#topgun maverick fanfiction

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: class A banter

words: 3.5k

Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...

a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.

Link to my masterlist

Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.

You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.

It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.

You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.

“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.

“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.

Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.

You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.

“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.

“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.

“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.

“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.

When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.

"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.

"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.

After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.

"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.

"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.

"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.

“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.

“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.

“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.

You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.

The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.

You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.

It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.

You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.

"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.

Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.

"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.

"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.

“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.

“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.

“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.

When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.

You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.

You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.

Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.

When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.

You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.

"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.

When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.

Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.

When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.

“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.

You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They’re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.

Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.

“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.

The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.

“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.

“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.

“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.

“Thank you, but just because they’re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.

Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?

“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.

“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.

“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.

You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.

“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.

“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.

“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.

“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.

You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.

next: Part 3

[indynerdgirl]

So you want to write a TopGun fanfic but know absolutely nothing about the US Navy and don't even know where to start looking. You're in luck!

Here are all of the links and notes I've acquired while researching for my own TopGun fanfics. I call this my TopGun Fanfic Writer's Reference Sheet/Info Dump. Hope this helps and happy writing! 😄

Differences Between Navy/Coast Guard Officer Ranks and Army/Air Force/Marine Officer Ranks

There are two other ranks between a Navy Lieutenant and a Navy Captain

A Navy Captain is NOT the same as an Army/Air Force/Marine Captain

A Navy Captain is equivalent to an Army/Air Force/Marine Colonel

Iceman is an Admiral and as such he would be addressed/referred to as 'Admiral Kazansky' or just 'Admiral' (like what Mav calls him when he goes to visit) and NOT 'Commander'.

Simpson (Cyclone) is a Vice Admiral

Bates (Warlock) is a Rear Admiral Upper Half

US Navy's Website - How To Become A Commissioned Naval Officer

Admissions Information/Steps for Applying for the USNA

Info about NROTC - Naval Reserve Officers Training Corps

Info about Naval Officer Candidate School

A Path To Professional Leadership - Becoming A Navy Officer

YouTube Playlist of 50+ Videos With Information Related To Both Top Gun Movies And The Navy In General

Cmdr. Elizabeth Malecha, a Naval Flight Officer, was the first female graduate of Topgun and that wasn’t until 2001.

Cmdr. Becky Calder was the first female pilot to graduate from Topgun and that wasn’t until 2004.

List of currently active United States naval aircraft

Boeing F/A-18E/F Super Hornet Wikipedia Page

How Do You Earn The Coveted Wings of Gold?

Fights On! Podcast - Ep. 1: Wings of Gold (1:47:51) Episode one chronicles the path of naval aviators from college graduate through winging and beyond. Fight’s On! is an eight-episode podcast series about combat aviation training, focusing on how the US takes newly minted Officers and Warrant Officers and molds them into combat aviators able to fight and win in today’s high-tech battlespace.

Told through the stories and experiences of US military aviators in their own voices. Fight’s On! will take the listener on the journey of combat aviators from Initial Flight Training through Advanced Tactical Training and multi-unit exercises, ultimately describing the current and near future systems and programs that will ensure American air dominance into the future. +Listen on Spotify +Listen on Apple Podcasts +Listen on iHeart Podcasts +Listen on PlayerFM United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor program aka TOPGUN

DoD - TOPGUN: Edge of Aviation

US Navy Stories - Patch Wearers: The Real TOPGUN Inside The Real TOPGUN Fighter School

The TOPGUN Legacy: Making Maverick with Capt. Brian Ferguson

Aviation Warfare - Overview of Fixed Wing Aircraft from the USNA website

Wikipedia page for the United States Pacific Fleet

Part of the larger Indo-Pacific Command

Garrison/HQ: Naval Station Pearl Harbor

Commander is appointed by the President with Senate advice and consent.

Commander reports to the Secretary of the Navy (administrative), the Chief of Naval Operations (administrative), and the Commander of US Indo-Pacific Command (operational).

Commander term length is approx. 2-3 years.

As of 2011, the Pacific Fleet has authority over: + Numbered Third and Seventh Fleets + Naval Air Force, Pacific + Commander, Naval Surface Forces Pacific + Naval Submarine Force, Pacific Naval shore commands over which USPACFLT has authority: + Commander Naval Forces Korea + Commander Naval Forces Japan + Commander Naval Forces Marianas

List of US Navy Bases - Both Within The US And Abroad

US Navy Careers - Fighter Pilot

Navy Fighter Pilot Lingo

The Fighter Pilot Podcast - Glossary List

The 100+ Most Creative Pilot Callsigns With Explanations

‘Sidewalk,’ ‘Terminally Stupid,’ and ‘Meatloaf’ — How military pilots get their call signs

DoD - Aviator Call Signs: The History & Naming Rituals

Pilot Callsigns - The web's largest collection of callsign stories

USNA - Naval Aviation

In Naval Aviation, captains with sea commands are Naval Aviators or Naval Flight Officers who are commanding officers of aircraft carriers, commanding officers of large-deck air-capable amphibious assault ships, commanders of carrier air wings (CAG), or commodores of functional or "type" air wings or air groups. A smaller cohort outside of sea and shore commands may also serve as astronauts on loan to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA). [X]

Navy captains who are line officers may also fill senior command and staff positions ashore as Chiefs of Staff/Executive Assistants or senior operations officers to flag officers, or they may hold shore command assignments such as commanding officers of naval bases, naval stations, naval air stations, naval air facilities, naval support activities, logistics groups, specialized centers or schools, or commanders of test wings or training air wings. They may also occupy senior leadership positions on fleet staffs, naval component commands staffs, the staffs of the joint Unified Combatant Commands, the staff of the Chief of Naval Operations (OPNAV), or the Joint Staff. [X]

Promotion to captain is governed by DoD policies derived from the Defense Officer Personnel Management Act (DOPMA) of 1980 or its companion Reserve Officer Personnel Management Act (ROPMA). DOPMA/ROPMA guidelines suggest that no more than 50% of eligible commanders should be promoted to captain after serving a minimum of three years at their present rank and after attaining 21–23 years of cumulative commissioned service, although this percentage may be appreciably less, contingent on force structure and the needs of the service. With very few exceptions, such as Naval Aviator Astronaut and Naval Flight Officer Astronaut, unrestricted line officer captains in the Navy will have successfully completed at least one commanding officer assignment at the commander (O-5) level (an aviation squadron for Naval Aviators and Naval Flight Officers) before being selected for promotion to captain. All those selected to the rank of captain by the U.S. Navy are confirmed by the United States Senate.  [X]

An Idiot’s Guide To What Service Members Are Called In Every Branch

...Or you can just keep calling all the Marines soldiers. They secretly love it. Have you ever accidentally called a Marine “Soldier?” The look they gave you probably had you fearing for your life.

We know that trying to remember what to call the members of each military branch can get kind of confusing. Never fear! We’re here to help. This video guide will assure that you’re never in danger of being beat up by a Marine again (at least not for this reason).

This is why Navy pilots prefer to be called ‘naval aviators’

At some time in our military careers, we come across pilots of all sorts, helicopter pilots, Air Force cargo pilots, Navy fighter pilots, etc. While the former two might allow you to refer to them as simply “pilots,” there’s a good chance the naval aviator will take the time to remind you that he or she is an “aviator,” not a pilot.

And there’s a very good, non-egotistical reason for that. We promise.

For hundreds of years before navies around the world were flying jet-powered aircraft off the decks of massive floating cities, “pilots” were operating in navies long before ships had engines that weren’t powered by wind or slaves. In those terms, a pilot is specially qualified to drive a ship in and out of a specific port or a specific area. For large ships, this pilot is someone from outside, who literally comes into your boat and drives it into the harbor because he or she knows the area better than anyone else.

The pilot will roll up next to your ship aboard a pilot boat, which carries the pilot in a boat, one marked “pilot boat.” And those poor guys have to climb up the side of your ship just to park it for you. Both naval aviators and maritime pilots have a hard job that allows for zero error – so call them whatever they want.

[mare-noctis-studios]

my other tribute for the night: The Song that Summer Sings aka the Notting Hill Macheresin AU written by @boasamishipper

[allylikethecat]

Chapters: 36/50 Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick (2020) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Penny Benjamin/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Characters: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Bradley Bradshaw, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Penny Benjamin Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD Summary:

They apparently weren’t taking advantage of the courtesy pre boarding for military personnel. That was fine, they were still in boarding group B. The gate agent had made the announcement and Rooster- Bradley, hadn’t moved, eyes downcast, studying the green and blue patterned carpet beneath his feet as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. That was fine, Jake didn’t need to constantly be thanked for his service. He just really fucking hoped they were able to get overhead bin space. Based on the crowd gathered at the gate, it was going to be a full flight and if he had to gate check his bag because Bradley didn’t want to pre board he was going to be pissed.

-

It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw had come back from the mission very much not okay.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin wanted to change that. Maverick had all but begged him to get Bradley out of California, and his family had been pestering him to visit...

[allbark-no-bite]

american boys hate to lose.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: you finally get a taste of Jake Seresin, but you may have bit off more than you can chew

warnings: 18+ smut, heavy sexual themes, lack of use of condoms

author’s note: part 2 of ‘don’t write check you can’t cash’ is here! i would highly recommend reading that before this but do with that what you will. dare i say there will be a part 3?

(you can read part 1 here!)

————————————————————————

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into the back of your head, daring you to turn around and meet his gaze. You haven't so much as looked back in his direction since the training meeting started but you know he's there and you know that he's looking at you.

If you were more reasonable, you'd write it off as the residual heat of the evening seeping in through the window of the ready room being cast upon the back of your neck, warming your skin with it's golden orange hue. Such a feeling would render you lazy and cat-like, content enough to slouch in your chair and soak up the rays until only the ending of the meeting would force you to move from your state of tranquility.

Instead you sit up right in your chair, rigid and uncomfortable as your skin buzzes feverishly.

It's the same scrutinizing feeling that you felt that day out on the tarmac and the same one that you felt as he stood back and watch you play pool at the Hard Deck.

It's ridiculous it what it really is, the fact that you're not grown up enough to just turn around and ask him what the fuck his problem is. He's the one who very clearly laid down the law. He has no right to test your strength to adhere to it.

And tested you he has.

Jake's been at your throat all week. It was almost as though he had decided that he couldn't have you and therefore he would hate you enough to make up for it.

"Had enough, Lieutenant?"

From your limited line of sight—face down in the position of a push-up—all you can see are the scuffed toes of his tan combat boots. He's crouched down on the pavement, balanced on the balls of his feet, leaning down beside you so that he's inches from your ear.

Not yet ready to answer him, all you can do is huff under the strain of your screaming muscles, which are about fifty push-ups past fatigued. You can hear the uncomfortable murmurs of the rest of the Dagger squad watching yours and Jake's show down from a distance.

He'd been a bitch all day. Nagging, nitpicking, critiquing every little thing you did both in and out of the air. Finally, you had had enough.

"I said, have you had enough, Lieutenant!?"

His voice was so familiar and yet utterly foreign in the moment. It caused that twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach to return, the one that you didn't know what to make of. As if you couldn't decided whether you were pleased at his attention or fed up with his attitude.

Gasping, you swallow a glob of spit in your throat, trying to pull yourself together. You're not sure how much longer you can hold this position before you physically collapse. A groan escapes you unwillingly.

"As soon as you say you've had enough, you can get up. Until then, I've got all day."

You could feel the tension in the air between the two of you. It had been building steadily for the entirety of the day and this altercation had appeared to be its breaking point.

You stare at the ground, hoping he will take your silence as an answer.

A part of you was glad that you couldn't see his face and he could't see yours. It's hard to look him in the eyes sometimes.

Bradley must notice your agitation because he cocks you a questioning a brow when you finally catch his eye, having been viciously chewing on your pen into order satiate your frustration whilst listening to Maverick give his brief. You wave off his concern with a dismissive flick of your hand, as if to indicate that it's nothing for him to worry about.

You doubt he's convinced but he doesn't push you any further. If he thought Jake was bothering you, he'd be out of his chair and across the room in a matter of seconds. You don't know how you would explain to him that you haven't been able to forget the press of Jake's body against yours at the pool table or the way his voice dripped down and seeped into your spine even as he yelled at you.

The sound of papers flipping and notebooks closing draw you back to the present.

"You're dismissed. Your report time is at o'six hundred tomorrow," Maverick states, bringing the meeting to a close.

Your eyes dart to the clock mounted on the wall, unaware that the time had eluded you so quickly. You're evidently so distracted that Rooster's already gone by the time you gather up your things. Something about a hot date, he'd said.

Glad to finally escape the tension that is this room, you can already feel the ease flooding back into your body, that prickling feeling of dread and restlessness finally leaving your skin as you reach for the door. Instantly the world feels a little brighter, like maybe you'll even brave the evening traffic just to take the scenic route home, roll your windows down so that you can hear the waves breaking on the beach and smell the salt air.

A voice jerks you from your day dream, and immediately you're reminded of just the reason for your foul mood.

"You know, you're a bigger thorn in my side than I thought you were going to be."

You stop just outside the doorframe and the door swings shut. There's no one but the two of you left in the room.

"Is that your way of saying that you're not used to people not letting you push them around?

"I'm saying most people don't enjoy being yelled at."

His green eyes twinkle and his mouth pulls into a smirk that dares you to challenge his statement.

You swallow the spit in your throat, biting your tongue because you know that your argument won't come out convincing enough.

"You were being a bitch," you say instead.

"You wanted me to be."

"That's all I can seem to get from you."

Rather than the snarky reply that you've already braced yourself for, Jake takes two steps towards you and immediately you shuffle backwards, meeting the wall in the process. With nowhere to go, you have no choice but to remain trapped between him and the wall of the room.

Now cornered, he is dangerously close.

A sharp but smokey musk stings your sinuses— one that will become synonymous to you with his presence. The stench of jet fuel makes you lightheaded for just a moment before you snap back to the present.

His sharp green eyes narrow down at you. Your face feels hot under his gaze. Eye contact is becoming a common theme for the two of you. You can't look away.

He is close. Very close. In retrospect, he has never had any concept of personal space. Since the day you met Jake, you have always been somewhat off-put if not startled by his forwardness. The way he had reached out to correct your posture at the pool table without prior warning nor consent had nearly killed you.

He was going to kill you.

Hardly breathing, you take him in with a certain clarity. You haven't been able to put your finger on it, but his face has a certain rawness to it — a natural ruddiness that you can't explain. The waterlines of his green eyes are invariably tinged a pale pink, likely permanently wind burnt, and his nose is always a touch red. Early traces of crows feet pull at the corners of his usually hooded green eyes. Speaking of, now you realize they're not even all that green. The soft golden tint becomes apparent looking into his eyes. If it weren't for their undeniable vibrance, maybe you would be able to breathe right now.

Your attention falls down to his plump pink lips. And maybe those. They shine with a particular wetness, and your cheeks burn with the thought.

His hand lifts from his side and immediately your eyes fly back up to meet his gaze, praying he hasn't caught you staring. Instead he curls his fingers into the side of your jaw and stares at you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. You wish that for just once in his life he'd express some sort of overt emotion. He doesn't speak, and all you can do is swallow against the press of his thumb.

Your mouth parts slightly, attempting to speak, to say something —anything to alleviate the silence— but nothing escapes besides a noiseless breath of air.

Jake dips his head down timidly, as though he's testing the waters.

Unable to comprehend what he's doing, your first reflex is to replenish the distance between you, and your head jerks backwards. However, it is forced to come to a stop when it hits the wall a millisecond later.

Jake pauses, mouth inches from yours.

Despite the panic that is threatening to take control of you, telling you to push him away, to tell him to stop because this is entirely wrong, you do nothing but stand frozen. Your heart is in your throat, pounding hard enough to stall your breath.

I want this if you want this, but not if you don't, you want to tell him. I will find a way to go on if you don't.

The muscles in his jaw clench, like he's trying hard to make up his mind.

And then without warning, his mouth captures your lips in a hard kiss, driving them open with the force of it. Gone is his previous hesitation. He is voracious; all tongue and teeth. You swear you feel the wall rattle against your back as he pushes you against it.

The thought that anyone could walk in at any moment hardly even flashes through your mind. All there is is the bruising force of his mouth on yours, pulling you further and further into the inescapable depths of desire.

Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair and fists into it, tugging roughly on the golden strands. It makes him grunt, the noise muffled by the press of his lips against yours. Jake's hands find your hips, his fingers tearing at the fabric of your flight suit to bring you closer to his body.

When your lips part to breathe, he licks into your mouth, tongue dragging along the slick of your teeth just so that he can taste you. Like he's been just as desperate to taste you as you've been. One of his hands finds the length of your throat and wraps around it, using his thumb to tip your jaw back up so that he can capture your lips in another bruising kiss.

Your need for air forces you to place a hand on his chest, pushing him away hard enough that he gets the hint. It takes more force than it should, and Jake pulls away, breathing hard.

As your senses come back to you, so does your common sense, and all you can think is: there's no way that just happened.

The sight of his flushed cheeks, blown pupils, and swollen, spit slick lips is what kicks you into gear. Anyone could walk in here at any moment. You can't even begin to explain how bad of a situation that could be.

"We should go," you breathe, heart still pounding in your chest.

Rather than pulling away, Jake lingers, hovering over you. "Go where?" he hums. "I've got you right where I want you." His mouth dips down to the barely exposed part of your collar. You swallow thickly as his mouth moves up to your neck, lip pressing to your exposed throat.

"Really," you stress, a bit desperately, your eyes darting to the closed door as he kisses up your neck. "We can't stay here."

To your immense relief, Jake finally pulls away.

"Okay," he agrees, a bit too easily. "I'll bring you home."

——

The car ride is strange but not uncomfortable. Strange because you keep looking over to your left and Jake is sitting there, one hand on the wheel, aviators perched on his nose as he watches the road. Strange because he doesn't ask you for directions, just drives in comfortable silence, the radio turned low enough that you can still hear the gulls squawking as you drive by the beach.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the truck to a stop and reaches for the keys to turn off the ignition. He's smiling and doing a poor job of concealing it.

"I didn't invite you in," you inform him, although your voice doesn't sound too firm in the statement. You'd been so sure that you wanted this back when he was kissing you, but now that the aftermath of your decision is playing out, you're nervous you're making a mistake.

You'd known that anything involving Jake was a risky game from day one. Between his looks and the all-American southern boy charm, it was a dangerous combination. There's a difference between wanting the idea of something and actually having it.

Jake just huffs, his smile still nonchalant as he looks over at you. "I can't walk you to the door?"

You can feel your stomach twisting again. "I suppose."

Your fingers feel numb and tingly as you push the key into the lock on the door and twist, your heart a bit in your throat because you're all to aware of Jake standing less than a foot behind you. It takes you a few shaky tries but the door finally cracks open.

Realizing that you can't avoid the inevitable any longer, you turn back around to face Jake. He's leant against the side of the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest and looking not at all like he isn't supposed to be here.

You stare and him and he stares back at you.

Without a word, he steps forward, into your space, and leans down with the intention to kiss you. Your stomach twists tighter than it was before. You turn your head before he can kiss you, and you feel his lips brush your cheek. 

"You can come inside. I- I just need a moment," you confess. "Maybe a glass of wine or two."

Jake chuckles as he draws away, giving you the space that you silently asked for, and for that you're grateful. 

"Okay," he concedes. "Lead the way, then."Once inside, you set your things down and escape for the moment of space that you need to clear your head under the pretense of needing a shower. It's not totally untrue. The day had been busy, more so than usual, and you were still sticky with sweat. You leave Jake in the kitchen to find the wine on his own.

While the tub fills, you're finally able to rid yourself of the clothes that you have been donning since the day began at roughly 6 am. Though you're usually a shower person, you've learned a bath is the most effective way get rid of the stress of the day.

The scalding water welcomes you and a sigh escapes your mouth when you sink down to your shoulders. The basin is deep enough that it could fit two people comfortably. You unpleasantly note that that's a thought you've never had until now.

The steam releases the tension from your shoulders and eases your persistent headache. Although you are well aware that Jake is just a few rooms away in the kitchen, the urge to close your eyes and sink in is too much to resist.

He had leaned in first. Backed you against the wall of the ready room and hovered inches from your face. There had been an out. It was brief, but it had been there. And you just stood there, barely breathing, watching him. You had seen the gun in his hands and willed him to use it.

His mouth was just as hot and demanding as you had come to know him. You remember breathing in and all you could smell was him, feel his hand on your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin. He had been the one to pull away, although just barely, and hovered inches from your face once again.

Being so close to him, it was the first time you had noticed the gold in his jade green eyes. From a distance, they were a stark green, but your new found proximity told a different story. You have not been able to see them as anything other than that obscure green ever since.

You break the water's surface and draw in a deep breath, smoothing your wet hair away from your face.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come back up." Jake is leaning against the open door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You hum, blinking the dripping water away. "Sorry," you murmur, although you don't know what you're apologizing for. He could do that, draw apologies from your mouth even when you had done nothing worthy of forgiveness.

He sighs and moves across the bathroom with languid familiarity, and you have to remind yourself that this is real. It is a strange concept to grasp, seeing him here, in your house. It's surreal to you, the thought that he exists beyond the base and is so domestic.

"Wasn't looking for an apology, kid. Just came to bring you some wine." He produces a glass that you failed to notice originally and sets it on the ground next to him, crouching down beside the tub. One of his hands dips in to swirl the water with the tip of his finger.

Though he doesn't stare, you are keenly aware that he can surely see more than just your naked shoulders through the clear bath water. Strangely, you don't flush at the thought.

His chin comes to rest on the edge of the tub, and his green eyes watch you with a curious guile. It is a look that you have come to enjoy for its fleeting but ensuring familiarity.

You sink back into the tub, feeling the tickle of the water as it laps at the nape of your neck. "You just wanted an excuse to look."

The corner of his mouth quirks faintly upwards. "I'll take what I can get."

As you watch each other, you come to the realization that you could want this. This moment. This life. Him.

For a glimmer of a second, you see yourself making dinner, a green eyed toddler balanced on your hip. The dog he didn't want barks at the front door as his truck pulls into the driveway. He finally walks into the kitchen after a long day in the air and wraps himself around you from behind—

Jake wiggles his fingers in the water, disrupting the calm surface of it.

"Get in," you invite him. It's a well intended, genuine proposition, and one you see no problem with. After your breach of professionalism in the hangar, sharing a bath seemed to rank decently low on the scale of scandal.

"No," he huffs, dismissing the idea, but his eyes twinkle, at least humoring you in his refusal.

Not allowing yourself the be disappointed with his answer, you let your cheek rest against the rim of the tub with a wistful smile. "Should I get out then?"

His fingers brush the inside of your knee and ghost down your calf. "No," he says again. "I like you like this."

Naked. Exposed. Relenting.

You smile at each other with your lips pressed together to convey what the two of you won't say out loud. Something inside you knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with you, won't be this gentle or tangible again.

His hand curls around your ankle, his thumb working into a particularly tender spot. You wince, a hiss escaping through your teeth as you refrain from jerking your foot away from his digging fingers. It hurts at first, the rough massaging of his fingers into the muscle, but the discomfort dissipates when he draws your foot up and places a delicate kiss to the arch. You feel your cheeks warm. His green eyes linger on you.

"We should talk," you murmur softly.

"About?" he hums coyly, pressing another tender kiss to your ankle. The hot trail of his lips lingers on your skin.

Getting him to talk has been like pulling teeth, and it's obvious that's not about to change now.

As much as you want to remain here with his lips pressed to your skin for forever, you sit up in the water to face him, and he pliantly releases your ankle back into the bath. Without saying anything, you lean forward and search his eyes for any sort of sign of what all this is about, wondering if it's some sort of sick joke and he's just fucking around with you.

His green eyes do nothing but watch you keenly, his eyebrow quirking as he stares back at you. What exactly you're looking for, you don't know. You want to ask him what the hell you're doing here, sitting in your bathroom, too close to be considered professional, but all you can do is stare and listen to the sound of his breathing.

Your bodies have drifted closer to each other during the process, only separated by the rim of the bathtub. Your faces mere inches from each other, he tips his chin up and your noses brush. You can feel the hovering warmth of his lips over your own. The exhale that escapes you is shaky and surely he hears it. Jake's gaze dips to your parted lips and then flickers back up. With more care than you would have imagined him capable of, he presses his mouth to yours.

This kiss is more hesitant than the first, softer and more timid than anything. His lips are pillowy, and you have to shove down the urge to take the plump pout of his bottom lip between your teeth. A wanting ache pools into your stomach. It is the second time that you've known the hot pulse of his mouth and basked in the taste of him.

All too soon, he pulls away, but nevertheless, you're breathless, still trying to comprehend it all. There are a lot of conflicting emotions racing through you, and you're not sure of which ones to trust. A part of you knows this isn't right. He's both a coworker and a friend — not to mention nearly ten years your senior.

But he's smiling at you with those beguiling green eyes, and you're learning that very little matters when he looks at you like that.

The towel you wrap around yourself serves little purpose because as soon as you step out of the tub, Jake is crowding you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

He pays little heed to your insistence that he'll slip on the wet floor in his socks, instead choosing to kiss along your bare shoulder, mindless to where you're going. The two of you hit the wall before you make it anywhere else so he traps your body with his and connects your lips again.

He licks into your mouth, tasting you with an assured vigor. Using the leverage of your position against the wall, the next kiss is harder, trapping you between his body and the plaster. You have to remind yourself to keep hold of the towel around you. You free hand curls around his head to grasp onto what is left of his cropped hair. It is soft and downy between your fingers.

His teeth catch hold of your bottom lip, and he sucks on it gently, causing you to exhale shakily, dizzy with his taste. When he releases it, there is hardly enough time for you to breathe before his mouth captures yours again.

The lack of space between you creates an air that is suffocatingly hot and needy. Your lips feel swollen and slick with spit. He nips at the tender skin, and this time you whimper.

Jake pulls away when you lean forward to chase his lips again. His hands go to his shirt, pulling it over his head with one forceful tug. The flesh of his torso slides over muscle with the effort. His pants go next.

It is the first time that you see him naked. The first time you see him in anything other than a clean cut, military issued uniform, an image so conventionalized in your mind that it had become impossible to imagine him any other way. It is a type of unearthing for you, because you realize he's not unlike what you expected him to be.

Like his cheeks, his broad shoulders are tan and golden, even darker in comparison to his sun brazen complexion. The handles of his hips fade into large quads, tense with muscle. He's full, as one would think a man should be, his muscles swollen to the point that it looks skin splitting. It is foreign to you, his sturdiness, barren of boyhood.

Your towel goes next, and it falls to the ground at your feet, abandoned on the bedroom floor. Then he's kissing you again, your mouths raw and wet from tasting each other. The only breath you can suck in is his own.

As if he can sense your building headiness, Jake eases up a bit, connecting a few relatively tame pecks to your lips. Doing so, he grins against your mouth. Your eyes are closed but you can imagine the confident, all too relaxed look on his face as he says it.

"Just let go."

You have never been good at opening up, something past boyfriends have begged you — tears dripping down faces in college dorms — to do. You grew up alone, in a normal sized house with regular parents who fought enough to talk about divorce but never enough to do it. And so when you get scared, the nervous tendencies and self preservation that you learned as a child take over. Like a dog who learned not to trust a man's raised hand. Always ready to bite. Always on guard with your chest heaving wide and teeth bared.

He hovers, as if knowing not to push you. You are the same in that way, in your astuteness for each other. It was as if you knew each other without trying. His fingers smooth along the ridges of your spine. Pressed against his body, you linger indulgently at the hollow of his throat. His skin smells salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent.

The thought occurs your to again.

I could want this.

It feels good if nothing else.

You unclench your jaw and become nothing beneath him.

Jake pushes you back until you're laying flat against the bed, and you have almost completely reversed positions. He follows, taunt muscles moving fluidly under bronze skin as he crawls over you. Wanting him closer, your legs hook around his waist, pressing his hips into your own. You can feel him harden at the contact.

There's no teasing, no rough foreplay, no biting remarks. He explores your body at his own pace, his large calloused hands pawing at the swell of your breasts before sliding down to squeeze firmly at the muscle of your ass.

The drag of his thigh against your clit is enough to draw a gasp from you, and he grins against your skin. Jake kisses along your chest, tongue teasing up the valley of your breasts while you grind your hips up into him.

A desperate whine slips out of your throat when he lifts his head. He moves up on the bed and plants a chaste kiss to your lips to quiet you. Then he pulls away again, face hovering over yours. His green eyes are bright, returning a sort of youthful gleam to his face.

"What?" he inquires, asking in the manner of someone who already knew the answer before they spoke.

"Want to feel you."

He hums, hand slipping under your hips to press them up into his own. The hard—hot—outline of his cock twitches against your bare skin. "You can feel me plenty."

He waits for the answer that he wants.

"Want to feel you inside me."

Grinning, he mocks an 'ahh' of understanding before leaning back to dig in his dresser, supposedly for a condom. For a glimmer of a moment, you lay back and marvel at the sheer size of him—the thick build of his shoulders, the hulking mass of his thighs, the size of his hard cock.

Catching onto your staring, Jake pulls a smirk that says he's pleased with having caught you doing so. Humility has never been a characteristic that you would have attached to Jake, and perhaps it was his resulting confidence that made his lack of the virtue so forgivable.

You wave him off when he comes up from the dresser empty handed. You'd take a plan B in the morning if you had too. He raises a brow, mouth quirking at your disregard but doesn't comment on it.

Jake crawls back over you and teases the tip of his flushed cock at your entrance just to hear you whine before sliding in. His size is by no means deceiving. The stretch of him stings. Jake quiets your grunt of discomfort by pressing his mouth to yours, tongue entangling with your own.

Your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, nails leaving half moons in his skin. His breath fans over your face, nose brushing yours as he hovers, waiting.

"Relax," he murmurs, one of his large palms rubbing up the tense muscle of your side. He can feel the tension beneath your skin, quivering with anticipation.

"Move, Jake," you pant from between your clenched teeth.

"Relax," he repeats, sterner. The tone of his voice tells you that he's not going to move until you do.

Huffing, you will your spine to loosen, try to let go of the tension in your hips. It's hard to concentrate when all you can feel is the splitting stretch of his pulsing cock inside of you, but you manage to relax enough that the clench of your knees isn't so tight around his hips.

"Atta girl."

Gently, as not to move too suddenly, Jake rocks his body into yours, hips rolling against your own. You close your eyes and breathe him in. Like a match being struck, the movement ignites a spark in your abdomen. The tone of your whines change from discomfort to pleasure as he continues to rock his hips.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're tight. But takin' me so well."

Face tucked into his neck, mouth pressed to his ear, all that comes out is a moan in response.

Jake's hand glides down your side, blunt fingers bumping over the ridges of your ribs and across your hip. His palm smooths over the curve of your ass, hand cupping the underside of your thigh and hiking it up without warning. The change in angle allows him to sink deeper into your, hitting a spongey spot that has you mewling.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder, nails digging crescents that are sure to draw blood. The breath that escaped him is sharp. He grits his teeth, mouth pressed to your throat as he sponges kisses to your skin.

Something tells you he likes it, the pain. Not necessarily in a masochistic way, his psych exams would never let him get away with that. But you suspect it's more of a reminder that he's human. You know for you it is.

You know that your time is not unlimited and despite that fact that you're good at what you do, your role as a fighter pilot has an expiration date. The average time spent in the field is ten years, and even then most didn't stay in that long. These days, every mission you come back from is a miracle. Eventually you run out of those.

Jake's palm that isn't supporting your thigh slides back up your ribs until his fingers find yours link them, and bring them above your head. The position stretches the expanse of your body out across the bed, exposing you entirely to him. Jake abandons the crease of your neck to suck a bruise to the underside of your breast, a spot he knows will be hidden by your bra should anyone care to look. The laving of his tongue along your nipple sends a shiver down your spine.

Between the rocking of his cock inside you and the attention he's paying to your breasts, you reach your breaking point. You squirm beneath him, walls clenching around his cock as you come. The orgasm travels all the way down to your toes and has you curling them into the mattress.

Jake isn't far behind you. He comes without warning, without asking in or out. You feel it when he releases inside of you, hot and overwhelming. You close your eyes, your head falling back against the mattress as he pulls out. Your used cunt clenches around nothing, already missing his absence. With your heart beating fast inside of your chest, you're grateful that the fan had already been turned on in your bedroom. It helps to cool your flushed cheeks.

Somewhere to your side, you feel the mattress dip and Jake rolls off to lay beside you. He says something but the words are nothing but noise in the back of your fuzzy head. You know you need to clean yourself up, get up and brush your teeth, but you're suddenly more tired than you've ever been in your entire life. Five minutes just to close your eyes won't hurt.

——

You wake up with a start hours later. At first you're confused. The bedroom is oddly bright and your alarm hasn't yet gone off. The sight of Jake tangled in your sheets, snoring occasionally beside you brings it all back.

The soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table swallows his body in a golden brown hue. He's faced towards you on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other cupping the underside of your thigh, which is slung over his hip. Wide awake beside him, you use the opportunity to observe his face freely.

A faint smattering of freckles that look more like sun damage than anything hide behind his tanned complexion. They creep down the bridge of his nose and across his strong cheekbones, hardly noticeable unless you were to really look.

His fair hair and blonde lashes make you think that he was probably even blonder in his younger years. His lips match the flush of his cheeks, a dusty rose color with a plumpness that most girls usually spend good money trying to achieve.

But as the glorious post-sex haze fades away, so does your blissful negligence. You have a training meeting in an hour, and yet here you are, sleeping in the bed with a man that you barely even know.

You should go, get up before he does so that you're not leaving for the meeting at the same time.

Shifting across the mattress proves to be a relatively easy task. Jake barley moves an inch as you slip from his grasp, the mattress creaking just slightly beneath you. It's when your feet hit the cold floor that the latest problem presents itself.

Lukewarm liquid escapes down your thighs, creating a trail of creamy liquid down your bare legs. A recap of the night's events plays through your head. You didn't use a condom.

"Fuck me," you curse quietly, rushing toward the bathroom as best you can with semen dripping down you legs. You awkwardly step into the shower and rise yourself off, already making plans to buy a Plan B as soon as you can. Nothing will be open this early so you'll have to go after the meeting.

You creep back into the bedroom in search of your uniform. To your dismay, Jake turns over as you tiptoe across the room. After a moment, he sits up slightly, watching as you yank on your clothes from last night. They're rumpled from spending the night on the floor, but you've shown up for work in much worse condition. Jake hasn't said a word.

When you reach for the door, he's still watching you. For a second you panic, wondering if you're supposed to kiss him goodbye or at least say something as you leave.

If he's expecting you to and you don't, you set a clear boundary to whatever is going on between you. If he's not and you do, it could be the last time you see him inside your bedroom.

Before you can think twice, you mutter a goodbye and dart out the door.

[itneverendshere]

all that talk is killing me - rafe cameron

request here: Fighter!Pilot!Rafe AU x Sweet!Reader. word count: 6.5K (YIKES) warnings: tooth rooting fluff and rafe being too charming.

There was that god-awful distinct scent of jet fuel in the air, a reminder that you were in one of the Navy’s busiest air bases. The hum of roaring engines wasn’t anything new; it had become a part of your day-to-day existence. The bar you worked at, The Mirage, was a hotspot for pilots, flight crews, and pretty much anyone else who was stationed nearby. A quiet coastal town didn’t offer many options for a social life, and if you wanted to get a cold drink or unwind, The Mirage was the place to be.

You’d been working here for just over a year and a half, long enough to recognize the distinct swagger of a military man when he walked through the door. They were easy to spot – especially the pilots.

Sunglasses permanently glued to their faces, that stupid untouchable arrogance radiating from them, the knowledge that they were some of the best in the world at what they did. It was almost admirable, if it wasn’t so…predictable. 

You had sworn off pilots. No, you’d sworn off men in a uniform all together.

It wasn’t like a hard rule or anything, but after what happened with your last boyfriend—who, shocker, also wore a uniform—you weren’t about to make the same mistake twice. You’d learned the hard way that guys like that came with way too much baggage. 

Long deployments, their egos inflated to the size of fighter jets, and let’s be real, they weren’t exactly known for being faithful. Military men had a reputation, and in your experience, they earned it. You weren’t about to get your heart broken again.

You’d been there, done that, and had the emotional scars to prove it.

So yeah, working at a bar right next to a Navy air base wasn’t exactly ideal, but you weren’t here for the guys. The Mirage was just a job, a way to pay the bills while you figured your life out. It was a decent gig. Good tips, a steady flow of regulars, and every now and then, you’d get to watch a squadron of cocky, ego-driven fighter pilots try to charm their way into someone’s pants. 

Fun to watch, but that was about it.

The first time Rafe walked into The Mirage, you felt it immediately—the shift in the air. 

You had your back turned, trying to keep busy wiping down the bar, but you could practically feel his presence as he swaggered up, like the whole place had just taken notice of him at once. Lean and built like he was carved from the side of a mountain, with shoulders that filled out his flight suit just right, and a chest broad enough to make any woman’s heart skip a beat.

And when you finally turned around? He was standing there with that stupid, lopsided grin, a couple of dog tags peeking out from beneath his half-zipped flight suit, the sleeves pushed up like he had zero intention of playing by any rules but his own. He had this ridiculously good-looking, disheveled kind of vibe going on, like he’d just gotten off a jet and didn’t care that his hair was all over the place.

You almost hated how good he looked.

He didn’t even hesitate when he caught your eye. He walked right up to the bar and leaned on it like he owned the place.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a panty-dropping smile that probably worked on most girls. “Can I get a beer?”

Sweetheart? Oh God, one of those guys. His voice had that low, southern drawl, smooth as Tennessee whiskey, dripping with charm. It was the kind of voice that could make anything sound like a compliment, even when he was teasing. And the way he leaned on the bar, just a little too close, just a little too familiar, like he’d been doing it his whole life and knew exactly what effect it had—it was almost criminal.

“Sure,” you said, not bothering to match his energy. You grabbed a bottle and slid it across the bar to him, intentionally keeping it short and sweet. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of a flirty smile or small talk. Guys like him lived for that.

“Thanks, darling.” He tipped the bottle to you, still grinning like he knew something you didn’t. You sighed, turning back to your work, already half-expecting him to hit on someone else.

But over the next few days, Rafe kept showing up.

Every night, like clockwork, he’d stroll in after his missions with that same laid-back swagger. You noticed how people gravitated toward him, like he had this magnetic pull. His squadron buddies? They idolized him. Girls? Yeah, they fell for him hard, like they didn’t see the giant walking red flag that he was.

But the worst part? He kept coming back to you. 

Every time he walked into The Mirage, he’d make a beeline straight for the bar, leaning in with that smirk that was starting to get under your skin.

“You’re not like the other girls around here,” he said one night, lounging across the bar like he was settling in for the night.

So typical it gave you chills. He was a natural-born flirt, and he knew it. He wasn’t subtle; he didn’t have to be.

You snorted. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“They all like a guy in uniform.” He motioned to his flight suit, like he was showing off. “But you? You don’t seem impressed.”

You met his gaze and deadpanned, “I’m not.”

That should’ve been the end of it. Usually, when you gave guys the cold shoulder, they got the hint. But Rafe? He wasn’t so easily shaken. If anything, your disinterest seemed to make him more determined.

“Gotta say, I like the challenge,” he said, watching you like you were some kind of game he was about to win.

You rolled your eyes, but part of you couldn’t help but laugh. The guy had confidence, that much was clear. But you had to remind yourself why you’d sworn off pilots. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You’d been with a guy like Rafe before. The type who’d make you feel like you were the center of his universe—until you weren’t.

“I don’t date pilots,” you told him flat-out one night after he tried to get cute, leaning closer than necessary over the bar. You were done playing games, and he needed to know it wasn’t happening.

He just raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a second before that grin returned. “That a hard rule?”

“Pretty solid, yeah.”

“And why’s that?”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical as hell, “You don’t even know my name.”

He leaned in slightly, that annoying grin never leaving his face as he took a sip of his beer, eyes never leaving yours. “You’re right,” he said casually, placing the bottle back down. “So, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

The audacity. Like his smooth confidence was supposed to melt away all your reservations like you were just another one of his conquests. You could see it so clearly now—the cocky smirk, the way his voice had that low, drawling quality that practically screamed “I get what I want.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you wiped down the counter. “I’m not giving you my name, Rafe.”

"But you know mine," He arched a brow, not even remotely phased. “Fair enough. Guess I’ll just have to earn it.”

“Not happening,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone firm. 

But you could feel a tiny sliver of amusement creep into your voice despite yourself. He was relentless, and for some stupid reason, it was kind of fun to watch him keep trying.

There was something about a man in uniform that made women lose all sense of reason, and you weren’t about to be that girl again.

And yet, Rafe Cameron kept coming back. 

Like a stray, relentless and impossible to ignore. And as much as you tried to play it cool, to not be another notch on his flight log, you couldn’t help but notice how his grin deepened every time you turned him down, like he was getting some kind of kick out of the challenge.

“You really don’t give up, do you?” you asked, throwing him a sideways glance as you refilled a couple of drinks for some regulars down the bar. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time.

He chuckled, that easy confidence still dripping from him. “Not when I see something I like.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, grabbing an empty glass and polishing it to distract yourself. “Well, you’re wasting your time,” you muttered, half-hoping that would be enough to shut him down for good.

But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel like the two of you were in on some kind of private conversation.

“Maybe. But something tells me you’re not as immune to my charm as you think.”

That did it. 

You turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest, giving him the most unimpressed look you could muster. “I’ve met guys like you before. You roll into town, flash that cocky smile, and think you can get anyone in bed because you’re a hotshot pilot. You’re probably great at what you do, and I’m sure girls throw themselves at you left and right. But I’m not one of them.”

His posture faltered just a little, and you almost—almost—felt bad for bursting his bubble. But then he just laughed, “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

You shrugged, nonchalant, but you could feel a small sense of satisfaction. “Why should I? Guys like you are all the same.”

Rafe leaned back, studying you with a look that was half amused, half intrigued, like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Nah, I don’t think we are,” he said, almost to himself. “But I guess you’ve got your reasons.”

That hit a little closer to home than you expected, and you felt your defenses kick back in full force. “Yeah, well, they’re good ones.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, his tone softer than before. He tapped his fingers against the bar, like he was considering his next move. “But just so you know, I’m not looking for an easy win here.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Oh really? Because everything about you screams ‘I always win.’”

He laughed—more like he was in on a joke that only he understood. “True. But this feels different.”

Different. Sure, like every smooth-talking pilot didn’t say the same thing when they were trying to get a girl to let her guard down. You’d heard it all before.

“Look,” you started, leaning on the bar now, “I’m sure you’re a nice guy when you’re not playing the whole ‘bad boy in uniform’ thing. I’m not about to go down that road again. Especially not with someone who spends more time in the sky than on the ground.”

His eyes stayed on yours, unwavering. “But you don’t know me. Not really.”

“And you don’t know me either,” you shot back, feeling a bit defensive.

“That’s true.” He nodded, but there was a spark in his eyes that made you feel like he was more than ready to change that. “But I’d like to.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope.” His grin was back, but this time, it felt less like a game and more like a challenge. Not in the annoying, overconfident way, but in a way that made you almost—almost—want to see how far he’d go. “And I’m willing to take it slow, if that’s what you need.”

You weren’t used to guys like him offering to go slow. In your experience, they wanted everything fast—fast cars, fast planes, fast relationships. The fact that he was even suggesting the idea caught you off guard.

“I don’t need anything from you,” you said, though your voice wasn’t as firm as you wanted it to be.

“I know,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But maybe you want to give me a shot. Maybe.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick. But all you saw was that stupid grin and those frustratingly blue eyes that were starting to chip away at your resolve.

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, not fully committing but not entirely rejecting him either.

Rafe’s grin widened like he’d just won a small victory. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the drinks you were supposed to be serving, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Damn it.

You weren’t ready to let him in, not yet, but maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind the idea of him trying.

Because, against your better judgment, you kind of liked the way he made you feel.

Over the next few months, Rafe didn’t just disappear like the others. 

He stuck around, but not in the way you expected. At first, you thought he was still working some angle—coming into The Mirage every night, sitting at the bar, chatting you up like he was trying to wear you down. But after a while, something changed. It wasn’t like he was chasing after you anymore. It was more…normal. Friendly, almost.

It started small. He’d ask you about your day, your shift, little things like that. He didn’t push for more. When he wasn’t in the bar, he’d still check in—he’d send these short, goofy texts from time to time. Just little updates, nothing deep.

“Heading out on a mission, don’t burn down the bar while I’m gone.”

Or, when he was away for a while:

“Bet the place is boring without me around, huh?”

It wasn’t anything serious. Just light, casual. And you liked it that way. It was enough to feel like he was there, but not so much that it freaked you out.

Sometimes he’d ask about your life outside of work—how your art classes were going or if you’d gotten your car fixed yet. He never let you walk home alone. You hadn’t expected that from him. Like, when you first met Rafe, you pegged him as the type of guy who only cared about himself. But he’d actually listened to you, remembered stuff you’d said, which was…surprising. And kind of nice.

Still, you kept your guard up. You weren’t about to let him in fully. Not after everything you’d been through before. But you couldn't deny that a part of you enjoyed his company.

One night, about six months in, he came into The Mirage after being away on a longer mission. He looked more exhausted than usual, but his grin was still there as he slid into his usual spot at the bar.

“Miss me?” he teased, tapping the counter as if he’d been gone for a year instead of a few weeks. That flight suit clung to him like a second skin, half-zipped just enough to reveal a sliver of tanned skin and a hint of a tattoo peeking out. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off forearms roped with muscle, veins running down like they were tracing a roadmap to all the trouble he’d been in. His dog tags swung carelessly against his chest, catching the dim light of the bar.

He looked good enough to eat.

“Not even a little,” you shot back with a smirk, pouring him his usual. But the truth was, things had felt kind of off when he wasn’t around.

He took a sip of his beer, watching you closely like he always did. “Sure about that?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

You expected him to throw some cocky line back, but instead, he just chuckled. “You been good?”

It was such a simple question, but there was something in his voice that made you pause for a second. “Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “Same old, same old.”

“Good.” He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention to the rest of the bar.

Everything felt kind of…easy with him now. You didn’t really know how or when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you’d started to see Rafe as more than just a cocky pilot. He was still all of that, sure, but there was more to him than you thought. He wasn’t just the guy who flirted relentlessly; he was the guy who checked in, who listened, who made you laugh when you didn’t even feel like smiling.

It was nice.

That night, The Mirage was packed. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and loud laughter. The usual suspects were there—pilots unwinding, a few locals mixing in, and the occasional sailor trying his luck. You’d been running around non-stop, the orders coming faster than you could keep up. Rafe had disappeared to the bathroom a few minutes ago, and you were focused on getting through the rest of your shift.

That’s when someone came up behind you. You didn’t even see him coming—just felt the sudden press of a hand on your waist, fingers gripping too tight, a body too close. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart picking up speed as you twisted around to see who the hell thought they could just grab you like that.

It was some guy you hadn’t seen before, a stranger with bleary eyes and a stench of cheap whiskey rolling off of him. He leaned in, way too close, his breath hot against your cheek. 

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he slurred, his hand sliding lower, and you felt your stomach twist.

“Get off me,” you snapped, trying to shove him away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he grinned, like he thought this was some kind of game.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he drawled, his other hand moving to grab at your arm, pulling you back toward him.

Panic flared fast in your chest. You tried to twist out of his grip, but he tightened his hold, pulling you closer.

“I said, let go!” you shouted, shoving him harder this time, your voice cutting through the noise of the bar. Your heart was racing now, pounding in your ears.

You glanced around, hoping someone would see what was happening, maybe step in, but everyone seemed too caught up in their own worlds, too fucking drunk to notice.

The guy just laughed, a low, sleazy sound that made your skin crawl. His hand slipped lower, fingers pressing into your hip, and you felt a cold rush of fear. “Just want to have a little fun,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough.

You opened your mouth to scream, to shout for someone, anyone, but before the words could come out, you heard it—the sound of glass shattering. You blinked, confused for a second, and then you saw Rafe.

He was back, and he was livid.

You’d never seen him like this before, eyes dark and wild, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles twitching. He shoved through the crowd like a storm, fists already balled at his sides, his whole body taut with rage.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, voice low and dangerous, like he was barely holding himself back.

The guy barely had time to turn around before Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him away from you with a force that sent him stumbling back into the bar. 

“Get your hands off her,” He spat, his voice like gravel, his eyes blazing.

The guy looked stunned, confused for a moment, before his face twisted into a sneer. “Hey, man, relax—”

But Rafe didn’t let him finish.

“Don’t ‘hey man’ me,” he growled, stepping closer, his hands still clenched into fists. “You touch her again, and I’ll break every bone in your fuckin' hand.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, your pulse racing, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You’d seen him mad before, but this was something else entirely. His whole body was tense, like he was ready to pounce, and there was a look in his eyes that was almost… feral.

The guy seemed to sober up real quick, his eyes flicking nervously between you and Rafe. “Alright, alright, I’m going,” he muttered, hands up in surrender as he backed away, disappearing into the crowd.

Rafe watched him go, his chest heaving, his fists still clenched like he wasn’t quite done yet. He turned to you, his eyes softening a little, but his face still hard, still angry. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, breathless.

You nodded, swallowing hard, trying to steady your breathing. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you managed, but your voice was shaky, betraying the fear still thrumming through you.

Rafe stepped closer, his hands reaching out to gently touch your arms, his fingers light against your skin. 

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, his face so close you could see the worry etched into his features.

You nodded again, feeling a little steadier now, your heart still racing but slowing down, your breath coming easier. “Yeah,” you whispered, “Thanks to you.”

“You don’t have to worry,” he said quietly, “Not with me around. I got you.”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest, and you realized—maybe, just maybe, you were really starting to trust him. And that thought, more than anything, scared you to death.

It's why it felt so hard to be around him from that day on. You were trying to balance between wanting to keep things normal with him and avoiding getting too close. After what happened that night, you were more on edge than ever, and it didn’t help that Rafe was still making his usual appearances, his cute texts and late night calls. His protective streak had only made things more complicated.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his tone casual like he was trying to read between the lines.

You shrugged, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

He didn’t buy it. “You seem off. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” you said, a little too quickly. “Just a long night.”

Rafe didn’t push. Instead, he grabbed a drink and started chatting with you about mundane things—the kind of small talk that was meant to fill the space without digging too deep. 

He casually mentioned his plans for the weekend, how he was heading out with some friends, making it clear that he was open to other social opportunities.

“Gonna be out of town for a bit,” he said with a shrug, almost as if he was testing the waters. “Thought I’d let you know.”

You looked at him, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Okay.”

He paused, a smirk playing at his lips as if he was waiting for a reaction. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tightness in your voice gave you away.

Rafe’s smirk widened, clearly satisfied with the effect he was having. “Just checking. Didn’t know if you were going to miss me or somethin''.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to find plenty of people who will,” you shot back, grimacing.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, you’re more complicated than I thought.”

“That’s what makes life interesting,”

You finally let yourself admit it—his casual flirtation and the way he seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of you was starting to mess with your head. And that was exactly what he wanted.

So maybe, your petty self, doesn't answer to a single one of his texts while he's away. You figured if he wanted to play the game, you could play it too. It wasn’t like you were avoiding him or anything; you just wanted to make a point.

The first day, you didn’t think much of it. The second day, you told yourself it was no big deal. By the third day, you were trying not to obsess over the fact that your phone hadn’t buzzed with a message from him in the past twenty four hours. Like he'd given up. You kept yourself busy with shifts at The Mirage, catching up on sleep, and even dabbling in a new painting project.

When he finally came back, you were trying to act like it was just another day. You were behind the bar, pouring drinks and chatting away when he walked in.

Rafe’s usual swagger was in full force, but today, there was a hint of weariness in his eyes, like he’d been through the wringer. He slid onto his usual stool and flashed you that same charming grin, but this time, it felt a little more… tentative.

“Hey, stranger."

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, like you hadn’t been avoiding him. You set a beer in front of him and went back to wiping down the bar, giving yourself something to do so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.

Rafe took a sip of his beer, “So, you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alrigh'?”

“Just been busy, I guess.”

“Busy or just avoiding me?” 

“Why would I be avoiding you?” you chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been working and catching up on things.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

Uh, duh. He was making you fall for him. Recklessly. 

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ with a little too much force. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything was not fine, especially not when a girl you'd never seen before decided to eagerly join him on the stool next to his. 

You didn’t mean to be staring at them. You really didn’t. 

But there she was, practically hanging off Rafe’s arm like some kind of human accessory, her giggle obnoxiously loud over the music in The Mirage. She had this glossy, perfect hair, one of those flirty little dresses that clung to all the right places, and legs for days. And she was touching him. All over. Laughing way too hard at whatever stupid joke he’d just made.

You could feel your stomach twist into a knot, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why it bothered you so much. It’s not like you hadn’t seen this before—girls throwing themselves at him like he was the last guy on Earth. You’d watched it happen a dozen times. Maybe a hundred.

But today? Today it felt different. Today, it felt like there was a boulder lodged in your chest, and you could barely breathe around it.

God, this was so stupid. You didn’t even like him like that. He was just…a friend. A hot, annoyingly charming friend who maybe made your heart race a little bit every time he walked into the bar. Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were not—repeat, not—catching feelings. You couldn’t be.

Still, your hands were gripping the bar a little tighter than necessary, your smile plastered on your face as you poured drinks for some regulars, trying to pretend you weren’t glancing over at them every five seconds.

But then she had the audacity to look right at you, her big doe eyes blinking innocently, and ask, “Hey, could you get me another drink?”

Your fingers tightened around the beer tap, and you felt a jolt of irritation shoot through you. The girl was practically hanging off his arm, and here she was, smiling at you like you were her personal waitress. 

You forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes, and nodded. “Sure, what do you want?”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, leaning in even closer to Rafe as if she needed to be attached to his hip. “A tequila sunrise, please,” she chirped.

You had to grit your teeth to keep from rolling your eyes. “Coming right up,” you muttered through clenched teeth, turning your back to them as you reached for the tequila.

You could feel Rafe’s gaze burning into the back of your head, could practically hear the smirk in his voice without even looking. He was loving this. Watching you squirm, seeing you get all pissy while he played the charming flirt. God, he was such an asshole.

“Here you go,” you said, managing to keep your voice steady.

She beamed up at you, completely oblivious, and took a sip. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

He looked like he was having the time of his life. That stupid grin plastered on his face, his blue eyes sparkling as he leaned in close to hear whatever the girl was saying. And she was soaking it all up, practically melting into him, flipping her hair like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.

You felt this weird, hot sting in the back of your eyes and immediately blinked it away. Oh, hell no. You were not going to cry over this. Over him. No way.

But it was getting harder to hold it all together. You turned away, busied yourself with wiping down the counter, anything to stop looking at them.

And then it happened.

He looked over at you.

Just a quick glance, but enough to catch your eye. Enough to let you know that he knew you were watching. And damn it if he didn’t look like he was enjoying every second of it.

That did it. You felt the flush of heat creep up your neck, the anger boiling under your skin. You slammed a glass down a little harder than you meant to and mumbled something about taking a break.

“Hey, you okay?” one of your coworkers called after you, but you were already pushing through the back door, needing some fresh air, some space to get your head straight.

You ended up in the alleyway behind The Mirage, your back against the cool brick wall, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to keep it together. You felt so stupid, so ridiculous for even letting this get to you. He wasn’t yours. He was just…Rafe. And you were just you, the girl who’d sworn off guys like him a million times.

But it hurt. Way more than you wanted to admit. And before you knew it, a tear slipped down your cheek. You quickly swiped it away, cursing under your breath.

And that’s when you heard it—the creak of the door swinging open, footsteps on the gravel.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Of course he followed you. Of course he did.

“What’s this?” Rafe’s voice was teasing, that familiar low drawl that usually made your heart flutter, but right now it just grated on your nerves. “Are you crying?”

You scoffed, keeping your back turned, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. “No. Just…got something in my eye.”

“Sure you did.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, that stupid, smug grin that he always wore like some kind of armor. “You jealous or something, sweetheart?”

God, he was such an ass. “No,” you snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why would I be jealous? You can flirt with whoever you want. I don’t care.”

He stepped closer, still grinning like he’d won something. “Really? ‘Cause you looked pretty pissed back there.”

You felt another tear threatening to fall, and you bit down hard on your lip, willing it to stop. “I’m not pissed,” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Just…busy. And you’re distracting.”

Rafe laughed softly, and you wanted to smack that grin off his face. “Distracting, huh?”

He was closer now, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, and it just made everything worse.

“I’m serious,” you said, your voice shaking just a little. “Just…leave me alone."

But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he took another step closer, reaching out to tilt your chin up so you had to look at him. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and you hated how good it felt, how much you wanted to lean into his touch even though you were mad as hell.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, all teasing gone. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You sniffed, trying to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you. His grip was gentle but firm, and for some stupid reason, that only made the tears come faster.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, hating how weak you sounded. “Just…go back to your fan club, okay?”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw something there, something that wasn’t just amusement. “Fan club?” he echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. 

“You mean that girl?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. That girl. You seemed pretty into her.”

He let out a low chuckle, but it wasn’t mocking. It was almost…gentle. “Sweetheart, you think I’m interested in her?”

You blinked, not trusting yourself to speak, so you just shrugged.

Rafe shook his head, his thumb still brushing your cheek. “Nah. I’m not. I was just…” He paused, a grin tugging at his lips. “I was just waiting to see how long it’d take you to get jealous.”

Your mouth dropped open. “You—what?”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Oh, C'mon. You think I didn’t notice the way you were glaring at her? You looked like you wanted to rip her hair out.”

 “I did not,” you protested, but the redness in your cheeks betrayed you.

Rafe’s grin widened. “Yeah, you did. And I gotta admit…kinda hot seeing ya all riled up over me, sugar.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, but there was no heat in your voice now. It was hard to stay mad when he was looking at you like that, like you were the only person in the world.

He laughed softly, but then his expression softened, and he cupped your face with both hands, pulling you closer. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and serious now. “For the record, there’s no one else. Just you, okay?”

Your heart did a stupid little flip at his words, and you wanted to be mad, you really did. But instead, you just felt relief flood through you.

“Okay,” you whispered, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead, his hands wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t care, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “I kind of like that you do.”

You sighed, finally letting yourself lean into him, burying your face in his chest. “I hate you,” you mumbled, but your arms were wrapping around him all the same.

He chuckled, pulling you even closer. “Nah, you don’t.”

And damn it, he was right.

Then, you shifted back a little, looking up at him. His face was closer than you’d realized, his breath warm against your skin. You could see every fleck of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved slightly like he was trying not to smile too much.

"You’re an asshole, y'know that?" you whispered, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to.

He laughed, a low rumble that you felt in your chest more than heard. "Yeah. But you kinda like that about me, don't ya?"

There was no hiding the grin tugging at your lips. "You think you’re so charming."

"That's 'cause I am," he shot back, but his voice had this low, husky tone to it now. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there a beat too long. You could feel your heart speeding up. It was like everything slowed down in that moment.

Before you could overthink it, he leaned in. Slowly, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, his eyes locked on yours, searching, waiting for any sign that you didn’t want this. But you did. More than anything, you wanted this.

So, you didn’t move. You let him come closer, closer until you could feel the warmth of his lips brushing against yours, so light at first it was barely there. A soft, testing touch, like he was still making sure this was okay. And then, when you didn’t pull back, he pressed his lips fully to yours.

It was gentle at first, careful, his hands still cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks like he was memorizing every inch of you. You could taste the faint hint of beer on his lips, feel the scratch of his stubble against your skin, you felt something sweet, something that was just him.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, but then something in you snapped. You sighed against his mouth, a soft, involuntary sound, and that was all it took for him to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking for permission, and you granted it without thinking, opening to him, meeting him halfway.

All the tension, all the months of pretending you didn’t feel anything, it all spilled out at once. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your fingers threading through his hair, deepening the kiss.

Rafe groaned softly, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. And you kissed him back just as fiercely, letting yourself feel every bit of it. When you broke apart for just a second, gasping for air, but he didn’t go far. His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm, his eyes dark and intense, like he was seeing straight through you.

"God," he whispered, his voice ragged, "I’ve wanted to do that for so long."

You didn’t even have time to say something before he captured your mouth again, this time slower, deeper, like he wanted to savor every second. His hands were everywhere now—one in your hair, the other sliding down to the small of your back, holding you like he was never going to let go.

You broke apart again, both of you panting, his forehead pressed against yours. “Fuck,” he breathed out, a smile spreading across his face. "You sure you don't hate me?"

You laughed, breathless, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Maybe just a little," you teased, but there was no hiding the smile that was stretching across your face, the way your fingers still tangled in his hair, like you couldn’t let go.

He chuckled, leaning in to steal another quick kiss, softer this time, sweet and playful. "Well, I can live with that." he murmured against your lips.

And as he kissed you again, you realized that maybe you could, too.

[simplyundeniable98]

I need you now *Bradley Bradshaw*

Pairing - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!reader

Warnings - angst angst angst, arguing, explicit language, Reader has a hard time expressing her emotions, yearning, smutttttttt, mdni or so help me, makeup sex ofc, breeding kink 😏, Bradley LOVES his wife, lots of petnames, brief mention of pregnancy (rooster is so dad sue me), talk of death, mentions of the uranium mission, this timeline isn’t the most accurate, prob some incorrect navy talk, also bradley’s a captain in this instead of a lieutenant commander because captain just rolls off the tongue a little better yk.

Word Count - 5.2k

-This is LOOSELY based around the song "I need you now" by Lady Antebellum.

First Rooster fic, kinda nervous.

Mornings in the Bradshaw house when he was home were your favorite part of the day. Nothing beat waking up next to Bradley clinging to you like a koala. All six foot and then some clinging to every inch of skin that was left uncovered.

Usually, you were woken up to kisses being pressed to every surface he could reach. Your body was his canvas and he vowed to not let any of it stay untouched. The course hairs of his mustache raking across your soft skin rousing you from your slumber. Sleepy smiles and tender touches shared in the intimate moments of the morning before having to begrudgingly start the days activities.

This morning had been different. Bradley had gotten a call in the early spouts of the morning for an emergency briefing that had him rushing out of bed and onto base with nothing other then a note that read

"Be back later, love you sweetheart"- Roo

The bed was cold. That was the first thing you noticed as you blinked awake. Your human heater was nowhere to be found and tender kisses had yet to be given.

The note on the counter had etched a frown on your face the moment you picked it up. Bradley had gotten back from a three month deployment only four weeks ago and you missed him. God you missed him.

Although he had been home for four weeks your time with him still felt limited. He was so busy now that he had jumped rank and started as an instructor back at Top Gun. The added stress of making sure his pilots were safe in the air as well as himself had taken a toll on your husband.

Bradley loved you. You knew that. The picture of the two of you at your wedding had stayed put in the cockpit of his plane. The now frayed edges of the picture from being stashed in his helmet, clutched in nervous palms, and pinned to the instrument panel of his cockpit were a constant reminder that he had you to come home to.

You were his life. You were his sun. The force of gravity pulling him towards you had never faltered. His love for you ran deep in his bones and had since the first day he saw you.

But he is only human. And as expected, he makes mistakes. He forgets to kiss you before he leaves in a hurry. He forgets to do the sink of dishes that you had asked him to do two days ago. He is passionate and feels so much all at once. His determination and dedication to his career is a quality you love about Bradley. His commitment to the Navy was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

"Bradley you just got back, tell me you are joking" You say exasperated as you throw your head back.

Bradley had been ordered an emergency deployment for tomorrow morning. It was non-negotiable. Uncle Sam doesnt like to wait and you knew that. It didnt make things easier of course.

"Im sorry honey. Its an important mission and Warlock doesnt trust anyone else to do it." His voice was quiet yet so loud in the silence of your living room.

You could feel the tears start to burn your eyelids. The deep ache in your chest that always manifested when he had to leave like this. You just got him back.

"I never get to see you anymore Roo. I feel like im living on borrowed time." Your voice was starting to raise an octave. The emotions you were feeling were quickly transpiring into anger despite feeling the exact opposite.

" Im alone!" You threw your hand up in the air " I know its your career and I love you for how passionate you are about your career but this is ridiculous." You were yelling now.

Bradley shook his head and raised his palms to cover his eyes.

"Baby please not tonight." He sounded stressed. This was the last thing he wanted the night before he left. He was set to be gone for 3 weeks.

"Then when Bradley? Because its getting old. Im tired of having to love you from afar." You were crying now. A steady stream of tears now running down your face that set alarms off in Bradleys head. You were crying because of him. His girl.

"Sweetheart its three weeks, its not that big of a deal" He closed in on you grabbing your face between two calloused palms. The rough pads of his thumbs carelessly wiping away calculated tears in their path.

You scoffed and step out of his hold shrugging him off. You ignored the pang in your chest as his face dropped slightly.

"Babe seriously calm down" He was starting to get frustrated now. When he got the news earlier today he had expected the night to go a completely different direction.

He wanted to press you into the sheets and draw out those pretty noises he loves. He wanted to show you how much he loved you. Give you a proper goodbye before he was out on boat in the middle of the pacific.

"Calm down? Dont tell me to calm down Bradley. I cant do this" You were overreacting now. You could feel it. You were in too deep. The worry you felt in your chest had blossomed into something ugly and it was too late to back down now.

"Cant do what? This is ridiculous honey can we please just go to bed." His voice was raised now. The temper the two of you had shared was rearing its ugly head as you teeter on saying things you know you both dont mean.

"I need time Bradley." and that was the truth. You needed time to understand the emotions that were rushing through your body. You had finally got him back. Your Bradley. And now he was being shipped off again except this was another dangerous mission.The close call from the uranium mission had planted something ugly deep inside you. There was a chance you weren’t getting him back this time.Your Bradley. Just the thought had the blood rushing to your skull and your vision going blurry.

He was the love of your life. Losing him was out of the question. You had gotten so lucky when he came back in one piece on that F-14. How could you ever live peacefully knowing that the luck may not find him again?

"Time? You need time? I hate to break it to you but thats all your about to have." Bradley winced as soon as it left his mouth. He didnt mean to sound so mean. He knows exactly whats going on in that pretty little head of yours.

He knows you. His girl. He knows that the anger you’re feeling comes from a place of love and worry for him. Knowing it however doesn't ease the irritation thats starting to pool at the base of his spine.

You let out a sound thats halfway a laugh and halfway a sob as you tread towards your shared bedroom. How did the night end like this? How did you manage to let your emotions take over and ruin the last night you will have together in a month.

Bradley followed behind you as he leaned against the doorframe to watch you slam open his drawers in a haste. You may be mad at him but hes still your husband that you love endlessly, you had always helped him pack and nothing would change tonight.

He would give you your space. If thats what you needed then thats what youll get. If you asked Bradley to jump he would ask how high. Thats just how he was.

The two of you silently worked your way through the bedroom getting together everything he would need in his three weeks away. You were too stubborn to back down and Bradley knew you well enough to know to let you work it out on your own.

You had always been supportive of his career. There was never a moment where you thought that your husband being a naval aviator was anything less then a blessing. You were only human. You have human emotions and worries. It just so happens that you have a hard time regulating those emotions into words. Even though you hadnt comprehended it yet, this argument truly did stem from a place of love.

Bradley was your bestfriend. Being away from him on its own set your heart on fire and the added anxiety of knowing he could be in danger set your emotions into overdrive.

The two of you still had not said a word as you mindlessly got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. He said nothing as he pulled you to his chest and buried his face into your hair.

You said nothing as the tears you had been holding back finally fell as he handled you with so much tenderness. He was always so gentle with you. Even after you blew up on him about something you know he cannot help.

You fell in love with an aviator pilot. Deployments were part of the contract. In the six years that you had been with Bradley he had been deployed seven times. You were by no means a stranger to the game. It just felt different now. He had barely come back last time.

He pressed tender kisses to the top of your hair as you drifted off in his arms. Careful whispers of apologies and praise spoken into the silence of your shared bedroom because he would never understand what it would be like to be in your shoes. It would crush him if he knew you were in danger and away for weeks at a time.

Bradley had given you everything. He had given you every ounce of love he could possibly manage. He had given you every ounce of his attention that wasnt directed towards his career. But more importantly Bradley had given you grace. You were human. And it was times like these that he had learned to love the flaws you carried.

The hurt and fear that transpired into anger tonight was only an indication that you loved him. Your clipped words and hushed tears were only an indication that you worried for him. So yes, he would give you time. He would give you all the time in the world if that what you needed. His girl.

Bradley had slipped out that morning with a kiss on your head goodbye and a whisper of an I love you before he headed to the docks. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to turn around and crawl back into bed and kiss your worries away. His heart was heavy as he stood on the deck watching the boat pull farther away from the dock.

-

The days without Bradley home seemed to be even harder this go around. Maybe it was the fact that he had little to no service this time or maybe it was the disruption you had caused before you left.

You hadnt been able to call him. There wasnt much service in the middle of the ocean anyways but Bradley had been working almost every second that he was there.

Rooster was worked to the bone. When it wasn’t one thing it was another. Every second he was in the air his mind was on you. Every close call the only thing he saw was your face. Every time his fist slammed down on the red button to his left he heard your sweet voice telling him you loved him. He couldn’t wait until he could hear it again.

The photobook weighed heavy in your hands as you sat down on your bed. This had become routine now. Looking at photos and memories helped ease the ache of him not being home.

You smiled to yourself after turning the first page. It was a picture of you and Bradley not long after you had met. He had just finished his second year at topgun and the two of you were at another aviators new year’s eve party.

The pictured had captured you leaning your head back as Bradley held the shooter of tequila between his teeth to pour into your open mouth. His hand cradled the back of your head supporting you from falling.

You turned the page again and this time the picture was much sweeter. You sat perched on Roosters lap as he sat on the piano bench at the Hard Deck. The veins in his neck were prominent as he sang and your head was tilted back in a laugh.

You sucked in a deep breath closing the book. You turned to look at the clock that resided on Bradleys bedside table. A quarter after one. It was rounding about evening time for Rooster right now as you debated calling him. There was a chance he was too busy to answer. You wanted to hear his voice so bad. You chewed your thumbnail as you stared at the phone laying in front of you.

You huffed and reached for it unable to fight it any longer. You hastily pressed his contact and nervously brought the phone to your ear.

Every ring of the phone felt like a stab in the chest. What if he didnt want to talk to you? What if he finally decided that he had had enough?

"Hey sweetheart" His gravely voice rang through your speaker effectively causing all of your worries to cease.

"Bradley" You gasped in relief. Relief that he was okay. That he wanted to talk to you.

"Baby" He cooed. You could feel the adoration through the phone. You could cry.

"I need you Roo. Im all alone and I need you now" You were crying now. Rushed gasps of breath and choked sobs that you fought to keep down.

"Take a deep breath honey. I know, I know." Bradley fought to keep the hurt from showing through his voice but it was nearly impossible when you sound so desperate for him.

"Im so sorry Bradley. I was so mean. I didnt-" You fought for a breath as you try to calm yourself.

"I didnt mean it. I was just so worried about you and I miss you so much all the time." You cry to him. Hearing his voice opened the floodgates and this next week until he came home couldnt come faster.

"I know baby. Its okay, I know." He cleared his throat pushing back tears that were fighting to surface. "I love you. I love everything that comes with you. Im not mad honey, I miss you" He reassured you. Just like he always did. Your Bradley.

"Tell me about your week honey" He spoke softly. Bradley always had a way of making everything better. All of your worries and doubts simply melted away at the hands of your husband.

-

The west coast sun had done nothing to ease your nerves as it blared down onto the smooth stretch of concrete that held hundreds of families and spouses eagerly waiting for their loved one to return.

He was coming home today. After three weeks of waiting, today was the day. Realistically you knew that this deployment was one of the easier ones. You and Rooster had been separated for six months at a time, so what’s three weeks?

The pale blue sundress you were wearing (with the knowledge that it was Bradley’s favorite of course) helped to ease the feeling of being suffocated in the California heat. Your insides were practically buzzing. You couldn’t wait to get ahold of him. The past week was spent with limited phone calls and promises whispered into the other end of the phone.

The sound of clapping startled you out of your thoughts as you looked towards the water from inside the car. The carrier was barely in view as it inched toward the dock

At the sight of the carrier, you put Bradley’s bronco in park, locked it up and made your way closer. After all this time, Rooster always knew how to find you through the crowd.

It took awhile to find him in the sea of flight suits and reuniting families but when you did he was unmistakable. His long legs carried him quicker and he reached you in about 4 strides.

Wasting no time you threw yourself at him. His bag dropped to the ground to catch you and he didn’t even budge from the force of your weight. He inhaled a sharp breath now that he finally had you back in his arms.

Bradley had missed you. The argument the two of you left on weighed heavy on his mind. Countless nights spent on his navy issued mattress worried about you. What if you didn’t want to be with him anymore? What if the time away made you realize you deserve more?

You turned your head to press kisses against his warm cheek. Bradley was sunkissed before but after being against the pacific for weeks he was especially tan.

“I missed you so much” and you did. More than he could imagine.

Bradley could barely keep his hands off you as you walked to the bronco. They were everywhere he could reach. You were far from complaining though, you could barely keep your hands from lingering as well.

Rooster pressed a kiss to your lips before opening the passenger door for you before getting into the drivers seat himself.

He hummed and tapped the steering wheel before settling in with his hand on your thigh.

The ten minute drive to yours and Bradleys shared condo had never felt farther as his hand drug up and down your exposed thigh. Your skin felt like it was on fire as you drug your fingertips up and down his forearm that was reached out towards you.

Energy was buzzing through the both of you. Unsaid words and hushed promises were transpiring into so much more. The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Bradley said nothing as he pulled onto the street you lived on. He missed this. His neighbors tire swing hanging from the oak that hes pretty sure has been there since before he was born. Your throughly decorated porch covered in flowers and the porch swing he made you two summer's ago.

"Cmere" He mumbled after the car was in park. In seconds his strong hands were grabbing and pulling you onto his lap. His hands were on you immedietly. Both of them coming to rest on top of your thighs.

You immedietly feel at home on his lap. That peice of you that felt missing had found home when you wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring the two of you impossibly closer.

His lips were on yours in an instant and immediately you felt like you could breathe again. His kiss was gentle and unforgiving all at the same time. It was almost difficult to keep up.

Noticing your reaction he couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. He always knew exactly how to play his cards. Every spot and trick to make you putty in his hands. He grabbed at your thighs and pulled you towards him.

The rough bulge of his flight suit was rubbing you oh so deliciously and if he wasn’t careful the two of you were going to get a public indecency charge here soon if you didn’t move from the driveway.

Reluctantly, you pulled away. Still cautious of the steering wheel pressing against your spine you climbed off of him. The last thing you needed was to honk the horn and alert the neighbors of yours and Bradley’s less then decent escapades.

-

Fuck. You missed him.

He pushed you onto the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with that wide grin you love so much plastered to his face.

His lips began trailing down your abdomen sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he reached behind you to untie the bow that sat in the middle of your back, sitting up as he pulled it off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth finally found you. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed out on for the last three and a half weeks.

“God, I missed you so much honey. Fuck”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry left you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your husband’s thick fingers pushed inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay. He cooed at you pressing a kiss to your thigh before returning to the task at hand. The smirk on his face told you that his sympathy was anything but.

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Crying out, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled hard at the brown curls that resided on the top of his head. You were pulling so hard you could have swore it was hurting him. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers. Your ears were ringing and you could feel your heartbeat everywhere.

He kissed the skin of your stomach as he slowly fucked you through your high, breathy praises leaving his lips as he stared up at you. “Good girl,” he murmured, placing an open mouthed kiss to your ribcage before hovering back over you. “So pretty honey”.

You moan against his mouth when he kisses you hard, his mustache pricking the skin above your upper lip in the best way. “Bradley, please,” you beg against his lips. “Please, fuck me. I need it. I miss you.”

The groan he let out shot straight to your core as pulls away to unzip his flight suit. He practically throws it to the floor along with the rest of his clothes before he’s back on top of you pressing in between your spread thighs, his mouth is pressing open mouthed kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders leaving goosebumps in his wake. “I need it, too,” he confessed, settling in between your legs and pushing his tip to slide against your swollen clit. “I need you all the time. Think about you every second i’m gone baby”

Your lips were puffy as his met them in a searing kiss before slipping inside you with a sharp thrust. Moaning against his mouth, you wrap your legs tightly around him digging your heels into the base of his spine and grip either side of his ribcage to pull him impossible closer to you.

He wasn’t in a rush, wasn’t fucking you quick and hard like you usually liked it. He was taking his time,pushing into you with such passion it left you breathless, aching for more but feeling overwhelmed all at the same time. He was loving on you in all the ways he could have been , should have been the last three weeks. Hell, in the last four months. He had taken this for granted.

Your velvety walls noisily suck him in deeper with each deep thrust he gives you, your previous orgasm providing him with all he needed to fuck into you hard and slow. The noises the two of you had come together to make were border lining pornographic.

Bradley’s eyes make their way downwards so he can watch the way your pussy sucked in his cock every time his hips met yours. “Fuck, look at you,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Taking me so well baby, aren’t you?”

“I love you. Fuck Bradley I love you” You finally manage to gasp out. Bradley fucked you good every time but you were damn near speechless as you rocked into you. He wasn’t just fucking you this time. No he was making love to you. He was showing you just how much he loves you with every piston of his hips into yours. Every glide of his cock against your greedy walls was a promise.

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to hold back for him. You knew you were close already. It was dancing around the borders of your perception, melting in your blood, burning in your gut, and you could feel it, had been feeling it.

"God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much." Bradley was babbling now as he pressed his swollen lips to yours.

"Missed you too, Bradley. So much", you moaned against his lips, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, baby, you are", he groaned. "So good for me. Perfect. My girl."

“Bradley god-“ you gasped out. White was starting to flood your vision with each slow drag of his cock against your velvety walls. His cock grazed past that spongy part of you and he knew he found what he was looking for when you gasped and clenched down on him.

“I’m so close don’t stop” You whined high and breathy. There it was. Those pretty noises Bradley loved so much.

“Yeah? Me too baby.” He finished his sentence with another sharp thrust. “Gonna fill you up hmm?”

His pace never faltered “Gonna get you pregnant. Give you a baby to keep you company while i’m away. Is that what you want pretty girl?”

“Yes. God yes.” His words making you tip over the edge. You felt like you were on fire as a breathless pleasepleaseplease tumbled out of your gasping lips.

Bradley’s hips stuttered as you clenched down on him. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice. He was a vision with his head thrown back and mouth hung open in a guttural groan.

“Fuck” He rasped as he painted your insides keeping himself in the deepest part of you.

You winced as he slowly pulled out, not letting any of it go to waste. He was serious about his promise. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing you carry his baby. Bradley pressed chaste kisses along your neck before reaching your lips and pressing one there.

The slow drag of his tongue along yours had you whimpering before he got up to fetch a towel leaving you absolutely spent and tangled in the sheets.

He was gentle as he carefully wiped you down before pressing a kiss to the spot above your pubic bone. He quickly got comfortable and pulled you close tangling your legs together.

“I love you” He hummed into your hair pressing kisses to the top of your head. You smiled and pressed yourself closer to him.

“I love you Bradley” You replied before putting distance between the two of you to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted” You truly were. Your emotions got the best of you and instead of talking about it, you took it out on him. Your Bradley. He was the last person you should worry about not understanding. He always treated you with so much respect. So much tenderness.

“I think I just got overwhelmed. Usually it doesn’t bother me but this time with your deployments so close together and after what had happened to you…I didn’t know how to react” Your voice was quiet as you finally let him in. It’s what you should have done a long time ago.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley questioned. You were his girl. You were supposed to be able to tell him anything.

“I didn’t want you to be worried.” You glanced up at him shyly with a small smile on your face. “You’ve just got so much going on at work and the last thing I want is for you to think I don’t support you. Because I do. I really do” You place a kiss to his lips.

“I love that you are so passionate about your job and i trust your abilities as a pilot to come home to me. It’s just that sometimes I get worried you won’t come home from something that you can’t control.” There were tears streaming down your face now that Bradley was steadily wiping away.

“After that uranium mission, it’s just been different ya know?” You sniffled as Bradley nodded along.

“It made it so much more real. The thought of you not coming home…” You paused squeezing your eyes shut and inhaling sharply.

“Baby…” Bradley cooed. He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at you and brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

“I can’t promise you I’m gonna come home every time” He wiped away the tears that fell at his words.

“But I can promise you I’m gonna fight like hell to come back to you every time.” He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I can promise you that every time i’m in the air, I’m thinking of you.” You let out another choked sob at his confession and he silenced you with another kiss.

“I need you to tell me when you feel like this baby. So i can be there for you. I don’t know what it’s like to be you honey but I can sure as hell do my best to make it better.” God he was perfect. You truly believed Bradley Bradshaw was sent down from the angels himself. You silently thanked Carol in Heaven for her god sent parenting.

“I love you.” You finally spoke after some time. You pressed a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, and another one to the scar that went across his neck, making your way up to the one that adorned his cheek, and finally one to his kiss swollen lips.

“So you’re tryna knock me up huh?” You questioned with a laugh lightening the mood. You felt Bradley twitch against your thigh as he groaned and pressed his face in your neck.

“Yeah but i’m not sure this one stuck, I think I need to try again.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you making it hard to breathe as you support his weight.

“I think you’re right Captain, let’s try again for good measures”

[senawashere]

Carolina?

Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?

A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭

Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.

Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.

You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.

The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.

As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.

He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.

"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.

"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.

"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.

"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.

"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"

Wait a second, who is Carolina?

It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.

"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.

Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.

And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.

Or are they? No probably not.

Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.

But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.

Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.

Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.

But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?

You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.

No sign of another woman.

That’s good. Right?

Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.

Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.

"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.

You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.

"Who is Carolina?"

Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.

"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.

"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.

"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."

"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "

The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.

"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"

"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."

"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"

"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.

Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.

You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.

"A few days after that... I had a dream."

"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.

"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."

You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.

"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."

"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."

"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.

"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.

"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.

"About what?"

"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"

"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.

"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"

"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."

"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."

He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.

"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.

"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.

"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."

"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"

"It could be something else if it's a boy."

"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"

He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."

Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹

I'm tagging people who might be interested:@ohtobeleah @sebsxphia @callsigns-haze @sailor-aviator @sorchathered @greenorangevioletgrass @teacupsandtopgun @roosterforme @floydsglasses @lyn-js @bradshawssugarbaby @torchflies @its-dee-lovely @its-the-pilot @friedchips94 @bradshawsbaby @hardballoonlove @perfectprettypisces @topguncortez @hangmanapologist @bradshawsbaddie @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @themusingofagothicsoul @the-romanian-is-bae @mamachasesmayhem @jessicab1991 @iefitzgerald-blog @charcole-grey @waterriseslew @desert-fern @promisingyounglady

[onehoplessromantic]

B. Bradshaw | Masterlist

Top Gun - Maverick

Updated: 8/7/2024 [permanent state of oblivion]

!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily

Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.

peace!

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Series

☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor

13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍

Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming

12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...

☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank

3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.

☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04

4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.

☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor

8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds

1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️

Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)

☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank

2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?

☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls

13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!

☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls

10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️

A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement

☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor

3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Oneshots

☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose

wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️

teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end

Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.

☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28

wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing

Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far

☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 2.8k | 🌧️

swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme

The one where the deployments become too much.

☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank

wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍

angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader

Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.

☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28

wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst

You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.

☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley

wc: idk | 🌧️🤍

angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending

You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.

☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds

wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️

heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick

Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)

☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing

The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.

☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍

smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more

The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.

☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank

wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍

tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic

the title says all you need to know

☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank

wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍

accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader

It’s a drabble, I cant say much…

☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor

wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍

fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it

You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.

☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser

wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍

tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley

just read it goddamnit 🥹

☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines

wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍

drinking, arguments, angsty feelings

Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.

taglist sign up

ⓒ onehopelessromantic, August 2024

[hauntedrain]

This cutie deserved more time and appreciation

[lieutenantfloyd]

The Little things with Husband! Maverick ♡

Husband! Maverick who's your biggest partner in crime

Husband! Maverick who drags you to karaoke night at The Hard Deck every single week

Husband! Maverick who never stops talking whenever he's around you

Husband! Maverick who pulls out the film camera Goose got him for the first time in decades just to take candid pictures of you

Husband! Maverick who fights with himself every day to become the man he thinks you deserve

Husband! Maverick who makes you breakfast in bed at least once a month

Husband! Maverick who is so loud while making you breakfast in bed that you have to pretend to be asleep when he comes in to deliver it to you (he never notices)

Husband! Maverick who's favorite moments are the ones you spend together in the hangar

Husband! Maverick who never wanted to get married, until he realized he couldn’t picture a life without you

Husband! Maverick who's proposal was a spur of the moment action that surprised you both

Husband! Maverick who takes you on spontaneous trips as often as he can

Husband! Maverick who tells you endless stories about the Goose, Carole, and Rooster

Husband! Maverick who will never stop flirting with you, and blushes when you flirt back

Husband! Maverick who starts to question the safety of his stunts

Husband! Maverick who leaves you shocked as to how a man who has experienced so much loss and loneliness still practically radiates love

Husband! Maverick who learns about love languages and takes them very seriously

Husband! Maverick who, with your help, is able to begin healing from his trauma and fully reconciles with Bradley

Husband! Maverick who, with you and the dagger squad, finally has a family to call his own

[somethinginthewayiam]

The girl behind the bar (Part 3)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: banter, fluffy Jake (if you squint)

words: 3.3k

Summary: Jake brings a date to the bar and she is not, well, the nicest person alive. Which is kind of expected of him but still annoying. Thankfully, Maverick convices Penny to close the bar early to sneak off and you close up. You start singing along to your playlist while you cleaned up, thinking you're alone at the bar...

a/n: The songs used in this chapter are Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC and Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, if you want to listen to them while you read.

Link to my masterlist

"Can I play something for you, Darlin'?", Jimmy asked on his way to the storage room, passing the Jukebox. The bar had just opened and you and Jimmy were holding down the fort until Penny was supposed to come in later that evening.

"Could I have some Hall & Oates, please?", you mentioned with a smile. "I got you", the old man smiled and pressed some buttons on the old machine.

You make my dreams come true started playing.

"Oh Jimmy, you know me too well", you cooed at him, betting your eyelashes and shooting him a smile.

You started to sing along to yourself while you polished some glasses and put the beer from the box into the cooler. As you were crouched down, you didn't see a new patron approaching the bar.

"You make my dreams come true", you sang as you got up and suddenly found yourself face to face with a grinning Hangman.

"Only if you're a good girl", he said, accompanied with a cocky smile. "Barf", you said dryly and rolled your eyes.

You checked the big clock on the wall behind him. 5:10 PM. "It’s Tuesday, do you not have a job?", you simply asked.

"So, just anybody can give you a nickname but me?", he ignored your question and asked his own. For a second, you didn't know what he meant, but then you remembered that Jimmy had called you Darling just before. You were already so used to him calling you that.

"By god, she's got it! Good job, Eliza Doolittle", you mockingly cheered him on, booping his nose with your finger. He flicked your finger away like it was an annoying fly.

“What can I get you?”, you asked him. “The usual”, he simply stated and put his credit card on the counter, his typical sign to open his tab for the night. “So, a Tet-shot and the morning after pill for whoever fell for your bullshit?”, you suggested and gave him the sweetest smile. “What do you think of me?”, he asked playfully shocked, a hand on his chest.

“Only the worst”, you told him as you put the bottle of beer in front of him and the smile on your lips took the harshness out of your words. He shot you another wink as he grabbed his drink and left for the darts board.

You hated to admit it, even just to yourself, but your shift was always more fun when Hangman was around. Someone to look out for, someone to be excited to see. That this was all just one-sided wasn't even a question to you. Every time you felt that way about someone, as annoying as they might be, it was always one-sided. And even on the off chance it wasn't, you never dared to ask and nobody ever came forward. So, as always, you shot him another glance and kept on working.

Later that evening, the others arrived at the bar, too, as always gathering at the pool table. You brought over a trey of beers that the group had ordered.

"There you go. Phoenix, Fanboy, Bob, Coyote, and Eliza", you said as you placed the last beer in front of Hangman.

Fanboy almost did a spit-take as he had just taken a sip of his drink. "Excuse me, what?", Phoenix asked and she didn't do a great job at suppressing her laughter.

"Just a little inside joke we got, don't we, Lizzie?", you turned to Hangman. He chose to remain silent but the look he gave you let you know that you were gonna pay for that joke at some point.

But for now, you took the win of shutting him up.

For a Wednesday night it was surprisingly full at the bar and Jimmy was not in after requesting a sick-day. You and Penny had your hands fulfilling all the orders. Even though you had some practice by now, you were still lacking in speed compared to Penny.

You spotted your usual group at a table in the middle of the bar, letting other people play pool for once. But you noticed that Hangman was missing tonight. It was odd to you, but you didn’t think much of it.

Until he came in at around half past 9 with a tall blonde on his arm. She was dressed in an expensive-looking short dress and looked totally out of place between the khaki uniforms and informal clothing on all the other patrons. She looked like the type country club, my daddy bought me a horse for Christmas kind of girl. The Hard Deck was clearly Hangman’s idea, who was not wearing his khaki uniform for once but a black pair of jeans and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. If you didn’t already know him as part of the bar’s interior, you would also find his appearance here out of place.

Your eyes followed the pair to the table of Hangman’s colleagues, his date getting introduced to the others. They all exchanges polite smiles and hellos. When the woman sat down, she let her eyes wander over the place, looking a little disgusted. You could tell that this was not the place she thought the night would bring her to. She took off her cardigan and hung it over the back of her chair before she even attempted to lean back.

There was no use of prolonging the wait, you would have to get over there to take their order. Also, the glasses of the others looked rather empty as well. You took a deep breath and walked over to the full table.

“Welcome to the Hard Deck. What can I get you?”, you welcomed the woman and smiled at her politely. She looked up at you with an annoyed face. Her eyes let you know where your place in her world was. You were the help.

“Do you have anything here that costs more than 10 dollars?”, she asked and the tone in her voice could only be described as disgusted. “I can sell you everything for at a least twenty if you prefer it”, you commented, trying to knock her ego down a peg. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any practice with Hangman.

You heard some suppressed chuckles from the others but kept your eyes on Hangman’s date. “Excuse me? You better watch your tone or I’ll will have to talk to your manager”, she snapped at you. And she couldn’t take a joke. Great taste, Hangman.

You swallowed and took a moment to calm yourself before you spoke again. “I apologize. We have a very good Chardonay you might like, Karen”, you said to her instead but couldn’t help yourself at the end. Another round of chuckles behind you. “My name is not Karen, it’s Whitney”, she told you and her tone got more indignant. She looked over at Hangman, looking for support of her outrage.

“She will have the Chardonay and I’ll have a beer, please”, he said, ignoring his date. You nodded and then turned to the others. They ordered another round of drinks and you basically fled towards the bar.

Penny was overrun by a new group that had just entered the bar and you helped her out before you prepared the drinks for the table and brought them over there.

“Here’s your Chardonay”, you said and placed the glass of wine in front of the woman. “About time”, she only mumbled, no Thank you or even eye-contact. Lovely girl, you thought to yourself.

“Here’s your beer”, you placed the bottle in front of Hangman. “Thank you, Y/N”, he said and shot you a smile. You looked at him a little weirded out. The please before was already a little out of character for him.

“What?” he asked innocently. “Nothing, you’re just weirdly nice”, you simply said and kept placing the drinks in front of the guys. “I’m always nice”, he countered and a little mischievous glimpse was back in his eyes as he followed your round around the table. “Oh yeah, I’m always so touched by the empathy you display every time you’re here”, you said and put a hand over your heart, pouting your lips, holding the empty trey in your free hand and letting it hang down your side.

Whitney watched your exchange with a watchful eye and put her hand on his thigh, seemingly displaying some sort of ownership. “Do you come here often, Jakey?”, she asked the man to her left, a warning tone in her voice not to say the wrong thing. Whatever that may be. You and Phoenix exchanged a glance over the heads of the others, both of you biting down a smile.

“No, Darling, only when these knuckleheads drag me here. They can’t have fun without me”, Jake told her and she seemed satisfied with his answer. “We drag him here?”, Coyote whispered to Payback, who was sitting right in front of where you stood.

“It’s true, he’s not here often, but he certainly leaves an impression”, you chimed in before anyone could say something. Hangman looked up at you and you couldn’t tell if he was waiting for you to say something compromising or silently thanking you for having his back in this lie.

“Alright, just yell for me if you need anything else”, you said and finally left their table. It was getting uncomfortable and you were glad that you had a good reason to get out of there. After looking at some of the faces of the guys you could tell that they were just as uncomfortable.

“Come on, Penny. We’ll just sneak out of here”, you heard Maverick say as you came back to the bar circle. “I can’t just leave, not when it’s that packed”, you heard your boss answer but the tone of her voice let you know that she actually wanted to.

“I can finish the evening”, you just entered their conversation and they both shot up like they were planning some secret mission. “No, you can’t handle this many people on your own”, Penny said and took a look at the still pretty well filled bar. “No offense”, she quickly added. “None taken, you’re probably right”, you said and scanned the bar as well. “But you can close early”, you suggested.

“That’s right”, Maverick agreed and you both looked at Penny with raised eyebrows. Your boss looked at your faces and chewed her bottom lip. “It’s your place, you run the show”, Maverick added. You nodded agreeingly. You also wouldn’t mind to get off early. “I’ll clean up, I can definitely manage that”, you offered. “She’ll clean up”, Maverick repeated. Penny contemplated for a few more moments, then she sighed defeatedly.

“Okay, I’ll close early”, she gave in and you and Maverick high-fived. Penny walked over to the bell and rang it. “Last call!”, she shouted and a common groan erupted from the crowd. “Alright, settle down. It’s still my bar”, she added and waved off their protests.

While you were handing out the last drinks of the night, Penny asked repeatedly if you were okay to close up on your own and you waved it off. “I’m working here, aren’t I? And I have to learn sometime. You don’t always want to stay ‘til last call, don’t you?”, you said. She answered you with a smile and handled the register.

When everybody was finally out and Penny had left with Mav, you were suddenly alone. It was weirdly quiet compared to before when the room was filled with people. So, you took out your phone and put on your Spotify playlist while you started to clean up.

You collected glasses and bottles from all over the place. You even found a cardigan on the chair that Hangman’s date was sitting on. You grabbed it to put it behind the bar for when she came back for it. It was a warm night though, so she probably wouldn't notice right away. The urge to wipe the counter with it was almost overwhelming. Instead of following the urge, you placed it somewhere safe as it looked expensive and was probably worth more than your month’s salary.

You continued cleaning up and started to sing along to the song that was currently playing. It was Blue Eyes Forever by Charlotte OC, one of your favorites.

“But when we talk in the middle, in the middle of the night. Oh, we get closer every time. But when we meet in the middle, I feel the clarity rise. Oh, it moves over, straight from your eyes”, you sang as you put the glasses in the basket for the dishwasher. It wasn’t like singing Karaoke with friends or the impromptu concert with Rooster a couple of weeks ago. You got really into it since you were all alone and nobody could hear you.

“Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh. Blue eyes forever, oh oh oh”, you kept singing and grabbed the dishtowel to wipe down the counter

“I actually have green eyes”, you heard from the door and you jumped in surprise. You spun around to where the voice had come from only to find Jake Hangman Seresin of all people standing there.

Shit, did he hear you sing? He must have. Why else would he say that?

“Jesus Christ, you scared me”, you said as you put a hand over your heart that was racing like crazy. You turned away from him again, seemingly to finish wiping off the counter and putting the damp towel back in the small sink behind the bar. You mostly needed a moment to collect yourself. You felt so embarrassed that he had heard you sing. You thought you were all alone for the rest of the night, singing like you only did when you thought no one would hear you.

You heard his steps coming closer, resting his underarms on the bar top when he arrived across from where you were standing. You turned down the music on your phone.

“You have a beautiful voice”, he said and as much as you looked for it in his face, you couldn’t find any hint of mockery. Hangman and an honest compliment? Were you in the Upside Down?

“Thanks”, you said, still startled, and blushed a bit. “What are you doing here? We’re closed”, you asked, still in disbelief that he was nice to you. “My date forgot her cardigan”, he finally disclosed why he was back here so soon. “Ah, and she doesn’t put out if she doesn’t have her precious cardigan?”, you said and a smile creeped on your face, revealing the joke. “The chances are better with it”, he answered, also with a smile, indicating that he wasn’t here purely out of a gentlemanly gesture.

“I’ve got it here”, you said and walked the few steps over to where you put it for safe keeping. You handed him the garment and when he took it from you, his fingertips brushed along your fingers. You were sure he didn’t even notice it, but it sent an electric jolt up your arm.

As soon as he had it in his hand, you pulled your arm back, putting your other hand over the one Jake had just touched, folding it in front of you. Your fingers still tingled. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself for this stupid reaction.

“Thank you”, he said, glad that it hadn’t got lost somewhere else. “Now you can be her knight in shining armor when you bring back her precious cardigan”, you said with a chuckle and grabbed the broom from behind you. You came around the bar to sweep up the peanut shells that were scattered all over the floor. “And you’re Cinderella?”, he asked jokingly, nodding at the broom. “Yeah, well, there are other balls, I’ll dance another time”, you said with a shrug of your shoulders and a light smile.

Jake looked at you for a moment before he lifted his hand for a goodbye. “I’ll see you around, have a good night”, he said. “Yeah, you too”, you answered.

You didn’t wait for him to leave the room, you turned around and turned the music louder on your phone again. Your playlist had kept playing while you talked to Jake. Now it played Ceilings by Lizzie McAlpine, a slow song. The mood to sing along was gone anyway, you were too afraid someone else would show up again.

You started moving the broom over the floor but you only managed to get about three sweeps in before you felt a hand on your shoulder. When you looked up, it was Jake again. Without saying a word, he took the broom out of your hands and leaned it against the bar.

He grabbed your right hand with his left and put his right hand on your lower back. You looked at him with big eyes, too stunned to speak.

“You get your dance now, Cinderella”, he winked at you and started to sway you to the slow music. With his hand on your back, he pushed you closer to him and slowly moved both of you in a circle.

You were aware of every single spot where your bodies touched, beginning with his big, warm hand clasping yours. You were afraid he could hear how fast your heart was pounding.

He removed his hand from your back only to have you spin around which made you giggle lightly and then pull you back in, even closer this time. He put his hand which was holding yours against his chest, pulling your arm with his. He put his hand on top of yours which meant your hand was placed directly on his heart. You felt how hard his peck was beneath his shirt and swallowed. You looked up only to find those green eyes of his looking down at you. He held your gaze while he moved your bodies slowly from side to side. His hand on your back slid a little lower but you almost didn’t notice it because you were so hypnotized by his eyes. Almost.

“Bedsheets, no clothes. Touch me like nobody else does” came out of the speakers of your phone and you suddenly became very aware of the lyrics of the song. It made you swallow hard. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t. Did he notice the lyrics, too?

His fingertips felt like they were burning through your shirt, leaving permanent marks on your skin. Instinctively, you licked your lips. Jakes eyes darted down to your mouth and back up to your eyes. He seemed lost in thought for a moment.

You both got snapped out of your stare as the broom fell over and hit the floor with a loud bang.

As soon as the moment had come, it was over again. The song drained out as the two of you stopped moving. Like you were both snapping back to reality, you let go of each other.

You opened your mouth and inhaled to say something but you didn’t know what, so you closed it again. Was a Thank you appropriate? Did that mean anything? Did he just want to be nice? But Hangman wasn’t nice. Your head was spinning as all kinds of thoughts invaded your brain.

Hangman looked at you for a second longer, then turned around, grabbed his date’s cardigan off the bar top and left the bar for good this time.

With shaky hands you grabbed the broom off the floor and held on to it for dear life. Your heart was still pounding rapidly. You weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if it was just a day-dream of yours if it wasn’t for the hand you still felt on your back like an echo. That was something you couldn’t dream up.

Next chapter: Part 4.1

[multifan2022]

Used to be yours

Masterlist

You were never part of Bradley's plan. The plan consisted of two things, getting into the Navy, and being a pilot. But the day he met you was the day his list grew, grew to include you, the constantly forgotten best friend of his most hated classmate. Jake Seresin. He would never forget his Tapout ceremony, because that's where his real story starts. 

You had known Jake your whole life so it wasn't really a surprise when he asked you to come to the ceremony. His father had also hated you for at least your entire friendship with his son. You, in his eyes, were nowhere near good enough to be associating with the Seresin Heir. It didn't matter that you had money of your own, sitting away in a trust fund. In Jacob Sr's eyes you were just the kid from town who's daddy had died in the line of duty. 

It didn't matter that said daddy had died while on call as a firefighter.. 

So when you were told to buy your own ticket, get your own hotel room and rental car you really weren't surprised. What did surprise you though was Jake barely even saying hi to you before he was introducing some girl to the rest of his family. The snarky smile she gave you and the little finger wave of condescension turned your stomach. The little life that Jake had unknowingly left there the night before not yet protesting, but the action caused your heart to squeeze in pain. Without having to speak, since no one was listening anyways, you walked away and to the bathroom. 

Your heart broke slightly when you came back and the entire Seresin family was nowhere to be seen. They had left, off to some fancy dinner without you. Jake had left.. without you.. suddenly the receipts for this trip flashed in your mind. The money for the ticket, room, the car you rented. The pretty black dress and shoes you bought to wear. All money wasted.. 

At least it was wasted until you turned around and noticed a group of high ranking Military men standing looking sadly at something. Side stepping a little you looked past them to see another man, still standing at attention, clearly waiting for no one but waiting all the same. You didn't know what took you over but suddenly you couldn't look away. Your feet moved towards him without thinking as you took him in. 

He was beautiful. Beautiful in a broken kind of way, the same way you always saw in yourself when you looked in the mirror. Scars on his neck and face came into view the closer you got. And when his brown eyes locked onto yours it was like the entire world faded. Like you could see yourself introducing this man to your friends, to your grandma. Taking him to your dad's grave without him laughing or being awkward like Jake did the one time you took him there. 

Bradley was shocked to see someone walking towards him. He wanted to turn and see who you were really looking for but he knew he was the only one left out on the field. He had seen Natasha pause wanting to turn around and tap him out. He could see her now from the corner of the field watching as this beautiful girl walked towards him. You stopped just in front of him and whispered a small hi. Clearly you were embarrassed, he was too. But when you asked in a voice much stronger if it was okay for you to tap him out he almost sagged in relief. When your hand came up to tap him on the shoulder tears filled his eyes. 

Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down. 

The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition. 

Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story. 

Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake. 

You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot. 

The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better. 

And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw.  And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.  

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you. 

Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to. 

Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her. 

You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything. 

Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else. 

That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text. 

BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad? 

BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️

He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward. 

Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement.  He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of. 

Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night." 

Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco. 

~

~

~

PART 2

[midnightdevotion]

Hang in There

Request: Hi I saw you opened and requests and I can’t stop thinking about Rooster finding fem reader passed out somewhere after training because she’s pregnant with Hangman’s baby 👀 Maybe she’s been off a while and hangman is still ✈️

a/n: hi guys! it's been forever since i posted something- i will update all my fics soon just needed some inspo from requests to get my mojo back. Thanks for understanding loves.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female reader(Callsign Daisy)

Life has a way of kicking your ass in unexpected ways. After waking up sick for two weeks in a row you went to the doctors, only to find out you were pregnant. 8 weeks pregnant no less.

Now your approaching 10 weeks and you still don't know how to process that your pregnant, let alone tell your boyfriend. You know you want kids, but this is definitely not how you envisioned it happening.

The fear of telling Jake and losing him for this is something that has you up all night, every night. You can't help but thank you're lucky stars he's been on a mission for the last month because after waking up sick every day and hardly sleeping from the stress of it all, he would've figured you out. He should be getting home later today and you don't know what to do.

Logically, you know that while he plays the part of jackass cocky pilot, he worships you, and he would never be so low to leave you and your baby. His Texas roots would never let him. However, you're pregnant so your hormones don't let you settle the anxiety with logic.

Flinching as a door slams it knocks you out of the anxious spiral that has been your mind for the last few weeks.

"hey daisy you ready to kick some ass today?"

"when am I not" you send what you hope is a convincing smile towards rooster. You move around him grimacing as you walk into the sweltering southern California heat.

___

If there's one thing you can count on, flying is the one thing that gets you out of your head. It takes away all your fear and keeps you exactly in this moment. Nothing outside of being in the pilot seat matters. Not being pregnant, not every stress that comes with it being unplanned, and certainly no anxieties about what comes next.

There's no space for any of that. The second you climb that ladder, your life and everything about it falls away.

Today you are just running team trainings, and they are always your favorite. You have no upcoming mission scheduled so it's just to keep your skills refined and ready for when there is a mission.

"hey daisy, you know it's not fair when they team you up with Rooster, you should just let us win" coyote's voice crackles over the comms.

"Coyote how will you ever get better if I don't humble your ass every time i can?" your sarcastic reply echos back.

"C'mon just once! I've got a date tonight and I want to brag about being the winner"

"Tsk tsk you should know women don't want to hear you brag on the first date coyote. Maybe this is why you never get a second date."

"You can't seriously tell me the girl dating hangman told me not to brag right now."

Laughter crackles through from everyone, and you shake your head. Rooster gives you a signal and you move to his left ready to attack.

If there's one thing the dagger squad knows it's that when you and rooster fly together there is ultimately little to no chance for survival. Nobody expected the duo with callsigns rooster, and daisy to be such a lethal pair but you guys can read each others minds.

This is true on the ground too, which is why you've been avoiding rooster for two weeks. You know he can tell something is up, but if you avoid him, he can't figure out what.

"how quick do you think we can get them out today?" Roosters voice rasps.

"I reckon we will have them grounded in t-5 minutes"

"god not you too with the Texas talk" he groans.

"What you don't think it's charming?" he flips you off and you laugh.

Before you can respond you see coyote and payback flying. Dropping back to cover rooster you grin under the face mask. This is your favorite part of everyday.

Being up in the air with your best friends you feel invincible. Which is ironic considering this is actually a dangerous job.

"rooster, plan c"

"roger that" He goes shooting forward and you fall back. You laugh as you watch them chase rooster, it's symbolic in a way kids chase chickens and then get pecked.

You stay behind them until you move to get a shot. The sweet sound of missile lock rings out and payback drops off. Now that Coyote is onto you, the plan changes, and you become the bait.

You and Rooster know that he wants to air 'kill' you the most, which is why this plan will work. The temptation of you being right there will be too much for him to think about where rooster disappeared too.

So when rooster swoops in and gets the missile lock on coyote, you can't help but laugh. You and rooster devised this plan specifically for Coyote because he always complains when you two are teamed up together. So seeing it come to fruition and even better hearing Coyotes swearing, is the highlight of your day.

Grinning as you climb down from your jet, you search out rooster. You see him hopping onto the tarmac and walking over your way.

"roos we killed that!" you shout out at him. When you feet hit the tarmac, a rush swoops over you. Shaking it off you go to take a step and suddenly the world spins incredibly fast. Yet it feels like everything is going in slow motion, your vision goes spotty and you hear Rooster shout after you. The last thing you register before the world goes black is the sound of boots hitting the ground.

--

Rooster has never felt more scared to make a phone call in his life. How does he call Hangman and tell him that his girlfriend passed out, and is in the hospital bay when he has no idea why.

It's been four hours already, you haven't woken up and they won't give him any answers. His hair is a mess from stressing about his best friend not being okay while simultaneously worrying about how to tell the guy he knows would move heaven and earth for you.

His leg is bouncing up and down as he stares at the number dialed on his phone screen.

The fact of the matter is Hangman is probably still flying and won't be able to be contacted for a few more hours. The mission was a success, and then it was extended to have them run drills while at sea.

Bradley knows he has to make the call, but he's terrified that once he does it all feels more real. He's terrified to lose his best friend, He's lost enough already.

Sighing he rubs his hands down his face, picks back up his phone and hits the green call button. The ringing feels like the worst anticipation of his life. When it goes to voicemail his hands are shaking, and he doesn't know what to say so he just hangs up.

Next resort is to call the ship. A commander on board will contact hangman and deliver the bad news, and oh how he wanted to avoid it coming from anyone but him.

He feels a hand land on his shoulder, looking up and glancing at Mav he sighs.

"It's going to be okay Bradley"

"How could you possibly know that" Maverick sighs, and sits next to him.

"let me make the call." maverick opens his hand for him to hand him the phone.

"no- no I need to be the one.. just what do I say mav"

"you tell him the truth, you don't know yet what happened, she's stable but the doctors are finding out what happened and he needs to get back as soon as he can"

He swallows and it feels like steal is coating his throat. Nodding as he stands up he paces in front of mav.

"she's gonna be okay, she has to be okay. We take risks every day all day up in those jets, this can't be how she goes mav. She has to be okay."

"and she will be, but take a deep breathe and find yourself because when you get ahold of Seresin he needs you to be his rock, he doesn't need to hear you panic" Rooster sighs because Maverick is right. He grabs his phone and dials the ships emergency contact number.

It takes a few minutes, jumping through hoops, getting in contact with one person to be transferred to another. Rooster curses Jake for being so hard to get ahold of.

"This is warlock"

"Admiral, sir, this is Lieutenant Bradshaw. There's been an accident with Lieutenant y/l/n today and we need to get contact with Lieutenant Seresin."

"Jesus- is everything okay?"

"We're not really sure yet sir but Jake- he needs to know."

"He's in the air at the moment let me see if i can get him back on ship."

"thank you sir"

The minutes feel like hours as rooster is waiting. He hears chatter from his phone and he knows they are trying to get hangman back on the ship and available for the phone call but roosters not sure if he isn't ready to deliver the news or ready to get it over with.

What feels like an eternity later but is actually only twenty minutes he finally hears hangman in the background. He swallows hard.

"Rooster whats going on?" if there's one thing pilots know, they are never called down unless something bad happened.

"Jake. Something happened with daisy... she... she just passed out.."

"in the Air?!! Rooster tell me shes okay!"

"No no! not in the air.. we had just landed and i was walking over to her and she passed out. She's in the med bay now but we haven't heard anything about her condition yet."

"Fuck!..... Fuck!" in the background he hears jake asking how far from land they are. Ultimately needed to be there for you, needing to see you for himself. Bradley hears jake curse when the answer is still 3 hours out.

He hears a slam and then yelling before the line clicks dead. Rooster looks at maverick worried.

"what do you think he's gonna do"

"one way or another? getting a jet and flying here faster." is mavericks reply. Rooster can't help but agree, if he was 150 miles away from land on a boat that moves about 50 mph holding jets that move at 1,000 mph then he knows what option he would choose too.

----

It takes about 30 minutes for hangman to come rushing into the hospital bay.

"How is she, have we heard anything, what happened" He rapid fires off questions.

"the doctor came out and told us she passed out because she's sleep deprived and is showing signs of dehydration and that she hasn't eaten anything today."

"why- why hasn't, she knows she needs to eat- she's so good with drinking water... I don't understand." confusion crosses his fingers because none of that sounds like his girlfriend.

"when can i see her?"

"the doctor is going to come out soon and let us know what room she is in, they had to finish the tests to see if everything is okay."

Hangman nods and paces the floor where rooster paced about calling him. It only takes a couple minutes for a doctor to come out and call your name and everyone shoots up.

"Okay, well, I'm glad she has a support system but only one visitor at a time please, she does still need to rest and recover. She is in room 302"

Hangman takes off in a dead sprint towards the room.

---

Beeping is the next thing your mind registers, and it takes you a minute to open your eyes. Yawning you try to bring your hands up to rub your face but one is being held by something.

Looking over you see Jake studying your left hand.

"you know you scared the shit out of me today"

"Jake I-"

"why weren't you taking care of yourself?" this has you confused and furrowing your brows.

"I have been-"

"You were dehydrated, hadn't eaten and sleep deprived. It's why you passed out!"

"jake you've been gone! You don't know what I've been doing! I did eat breakfast and drink water this morning but I threw it up!"

"god darling daisy if your sick don't come to work!"

"I'm not sick!"

"some would say puking means your sick!"

"not when your pregnant!"

"you- you're pregnant?"

"Yes Jake! I've been throwing up for weeks because of stupid morning sickness and I haven't been sleeping well because oh my god I'm pregnant and that is the scariest thing, and I was worried to talk to you about it but I guess that's out now isn't it." Theres a silence that lingers on after your words, and it feels like ice pumping into your heart the longer it stretches on.

"oh- oh my god" your throat feels thick at his words, he's looking down at your still clasped hands and you watch him to gauge his reaction.

"we're having a baby?" he finally looks up at you and his eyes are welling with tears.

"yes- we're having a-" and your cut off by his lips crashing against yours. His laughter peels out of him as he pulls away.

"were having a baby!"

"wait... you're happy about it?"

"Of course I'm happy about it! You're the love of my life! I want everything with you. The house, the kids the marriage, the dogs the fights, and the stress"

His words make your eyes tear up.

"honey I hate that you were so stressed about telling me you weren't sleeping. I was sitting here, looking at your left hand thinking about how wrong it is that something happened and the doctors didn't immediately call me, that if something were to happen to one of us I never got the chance to put my ring on your finger." His words left you speechless.

"jake... what are you saying"

"I'm saying marry me."

"isn't that supposed to be a question?"

"No. Its a demand, marry me, make me the happiest man, have my babies and marry me and call me out on my shit and shoot me down in the sky I want it all. I know this is so not how i planned to ask you, but please, marry me." You laugh a wet laugh, because this makes sense, you two would get engaged in the weirdest way, and do it all out of order, but you love this man with your whole heart so you embrace the chaos.

"Of course I will marry you" and he kisses you with every emotion he's felt in the last few hours, but you both wouldn't change it. Even if he already has the ring at home in his sock drawer waiting for the perfect moment.

Tag list:

@alanadetigy 

@luckyladycreator2 

@multiplefandomsmess 

@tkmarvel-divergentbish

@ohh-to-be-a-frog

@roosterschanelslut

@americaarse

@malindacath

@atarmychick007 

@trikigirl271

@lustfulseonghwa

@smoothdogsgirl

@elenavampire21

@captainmarvelnerd

@averyhotchner

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[thedroneranger]

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you. 

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.  

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance. 

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh. 

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship. 

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise. 

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform. 

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit. 

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado. 

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited. 

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body. 

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand. 

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out. 

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen. 

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink. 

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends. 

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy. 

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck. 

“I have to admit my intentions aren��t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

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