#uranium rush

[geoledgy]

Whoa I just found some old promotional art of Uranium Rush! They might be radioactive though.

[wishing4nuclearwinter]

Yeehawgust Day 24: Uranium Fever

A Fallout redraw of the 1950s board game Uranium Rush

[smbhax]

From "Captain Marvel Battles the Underground Mystery Menace" in Whiz Comics #145, May 1952. Otto Binder script, Kurt Schaffenberger pencils & inks.

[greenteabtch]

me after playing fallout somehow ending up vacationing in the uranium mines towns: huh. so its real.

[sassyfishesandscorpios]

The Simpsons predicted Go Rush.

[sillybillychilly]

I just found out that there was a uranium rush in the 1950’s what the fuck are you kidding that was just a thing?! that was allowed? You could just mine up some uranium and give it to the government and they would pay you?

[crishayle]

Uranus in the houses

Disclaimer.Here I describe only one specific placement, always take into account all your other placements when reading your natal chart, because they can have a greater influence on you than Uranus (in this case)

Uranus in the 1st house:

1.There may be rebel traits in a person's character. He can be straightforward, honest, and sharp-tongued. He will say what others are afraid to say. They are cardinal and categorical in their thoughts.

2.They are really kind. These are people who can help not only their loved ones, but also strangers. They do not tolerate injustice, rudeness and arrogance.

3.Most often they are of medium height, less often tall. Their eyes stand out very much in their appearance, there may be unruly or curly hair (or wavy)

4.They are brave. I will not say that they are not afraid of anything. They can talk about their fears and problems, but they can really pull themselves together and be courageous at the right moment

5.Personally, it seems to me that they are a little nervous and restless. It's just that they literally don't stand still during times of stress. They twitch their legs, bite their nails or pencils, bite their lips or cheeks. If something has offended them, then this thought will torment them for a long time

Uranus in the 2nd house:

1.It's hard for such people to save money. It's as if their money should always move (be spent or invested). At the same time, they damn always find money! They don't have a rainy day stash, but they manage without it

2.A person has a strong, rather restless energy. I wouldn't say it's crazy energy, but people feel this rush when they communicate with you

3.I noticed that such people can see beauty in chaos. For example, they may like disheveled hair, wrinkled or faded clothes. I'm not saying that they are dirty, but negligence plays the role of charm for them. They may have chaos in their bag, makeup bag, closet, etc. They are used to chaos, for them this is the most convenient storage system :)

4.He takes care of the equipment, it can be stored in good condition longer than other people

5.Most often they choose an unusual job. For example, it requires great endurance, dexterity or patience. They don't really like the 5/2 schedule (but consider your 6th house and Mercury)

Uranus in the 3rd house:

1.Personally, it seems to me that they have strange but funny jokes. I can't say that all people laugh at their jokes, but people with placements in Sagittarius/Gemini/Aquarius will be on the same vibe with them

2.They can make long pauses in their speech or quickly change the topic of conversation. They are good conversationalists, because they can discuss anything

3.They don't like big texts, lectures, or a huge amount of information. They prefer concise and more specific texts. I noticed that they choose books and movies very carefully so that watching or reading is really interesting.They may also dislike long films. My friends with Uranium in the 3rd house recently fell asleep on a 3-hour movie. Well, sleep is useful

4.Most often there are problems with concentration. Such people can solve very difficult tasks, but blunt on the easiest ones

5.They are quite independent in terms of learning. Their brains are practical, creative, and NON-STANDARD. Sometimes I'm really shocked by what they can come up with. Scary and cool lol

Uranus in the 4th house:

1.They may not look like their parents, or they may look like distant relatives (but you need to consider whether you have aspects of the sun/moon to the ascendant)

2.Strange relationship with parents. They're not bad, but they're not that close either. Or it can be like a roller coaster, from love to hate(but I would recommend considering your moon as well)

3.Independent and matured early. Their minds are much older than their bodies. A person is not used to listening to advice, likes to make decisions on his own and does not tolerate control

4.Not always, but this is one of the signs of a single-parent family or a person's childhood could have been spent with grandparents

5.There is one caveat. Such a person may be inclined to take too much responsibility and control. Literally bring himself to panic and a state of emptiness when he is not able to help even himself

Uranus in the 5th house:

1.One of the indicators of attractive appearance. You may feel the stares and attention of strangers. There is something memorable about their appearance

2.With tense aspects, it may indicate an unwillingness to have children, or a late pregnancy. Sometimes it also indicates problems with the reproductive system (but you need to take into account the 8th house)

3.This is a person around whom there is always some kind of drama and adventure. I do not know how it happens, but there is always something interesting going on around them, even if they do not want to

4.Girls, if you see a man with Uranus in the 5th house with a bunch of squares/oppositions (ESPECIALLY TO THE MOON), run and don't look back. It's not worth it. They are not suitable for serious relationships, especially for family ones

5.A person who has his own style of clothing or image. They like to focus on details and accessories. They try not to wear the same look every day

Uranus in the 6th house:

1.An unpunctual person. He may often be late or not come to work/study/meeting. A flexible work schedule is more suitable for him

2.If they have inspiration and motivation, then they can complete 1000 tasks in a day, but if they are not in the mood, then they will not do anything. They are literally mood people. I wouldn't say it's always a bad thing. This situation is often found among writers and creative people.

3.Their main advantage is physical endurance. I will not say that they are jocks, but their body can withstand a load that will break any other person. They may not sleep/eat/work/walk longer than ordinary people

4.Such a person may have special esoteric rituals, for example, to attract good luck or money. They also notice the signs of fate well

5.They also don't like talking to someone not on the same level. Status, salary, gender, etc. are not important to them, they will communicate with you like with everyone else

Uranus in the 7th house:

1.Well, there is 100,000% something unusual in the sphere of human love. There are long-distance relationships and a long 10-year relationship without marriage and a relationship with a friend and a divorce and a strange acquaintance with the second half and an annoying ex. It can be anything but a normal relationship

2.A person may avoid romance and love (but consider your Venus). A person prefers to be loved rather than loving someone

3.Such people like emotionally sensitive people. Only people with stressful aspects of Uranus can choose people with mental problems. They may think that their partner is a mysterious and interesting person, but he just has depression or social phobia

4.With the harmonious aspects of Uranus, such a person values his independence in relationships. He clearly defends personal boundaries, while respecting his soulmate. He can immediately break off a relationship if he understands that they are harmful to him

5.Such a person knows how to find an approach to anyone. His circle of friends may consist of completely different and dissimilar people

Uranus in the 8th house:

1.Such a person had a case when he had an accident/was severely electrocuted or burned/was in a fire, etc. Simply put, there was a case when he miraculously survived

2.He understands other people well. Literally can feel other people's emotions. He's good at spotting lies.This is from the indicators of a psychologist/tarologist/astrologer

3.VERY GOOD INTUITION!!!!!

4.Such a person has few close people. He may seem distrustful and cold from the outside. His friends are being tested by time

5.To be honest, people in this position always make an impression after a conversation. Their life experience and worldview are so interesting and unique that their advice can be really useful. I'm not joking or exaggerating.Imagine,even I(Capricorn)listen to their advice

Uranus in the 9th house:

1.This person is like an eternally half-empty vessel. No matter how much knowledge and experience he receives, it is always not enough for him. They are not stubborn in their opinion and can really look at the situation in 360 degrees

2.In combination with a strong Mercury, it may indicate moving to another country or learning another language to the level of a native speaker

3.These are the very people who jump from topic to topic in conversation and forget what they were talking about. Their attention is chaotic, so they can reread the same page a thousand times because they are thinking about something

4.Moral issues are often raised in conversation. They can often discuss justice, honesty and mercy. In general, they believe in humanity and they are really kind

5.They are very harsh and rude when they notice disrespect or lies in their direction. Even if they are silent, they will make such a face that you will blush with shame. They clearly set their personal boundaries

Uranus in the 10th house:

1.Good logical thinking and imagination. It is often found among workers in the field of IT, engineering,design

2.Such people almost always rise rapidly through the career ladder and professional development. They really strive to be a master of their craft, they are considered an authority and are asked to teach beginners

3.By the way, good teaching skills. Such a person can explain very complex things in understandable language.

4.They try to live by the principle of let everything go as it should. They strive to make the most of what they can and try not to worry about problems that are beyond their control. They are quite stress-resistant

5.Most often, they do not work in their specialty. They could change a lot of jobs, and in each they developed quite successfully. They like to try and learn something new

Uranus in the 11th house:

1.Most of the time, his friends are creative and unusual. I would even say crazy a little bit. Such a person is attracted to cheerful, energetic and fervent people

2.With tense aspects, it may indicate dependence on other people's opinions and low self-esteem

3.Good leadership and organizational skills. Such a person is energetic and creative, knows how to communicate with a crowd of people and hear everyone's opinion. Many of them are activists at school or university

4.Such people rarely lose their virginity before the age of 18. They prefer to carefully look for the very person with whom they will feel not only a physical, but also a spiritual connection (for them this is a mandatory point)

5.With tense aspects, it may indicate social phobia or fear of loneliness. A person literally cannot be in silence or alone with his thoughts

Uranus in the 12th house:

1.Very good intuition, but there may be neurological problems (sleep problems, seizures, nervous tics, etc.)

2.Very kind and even too kind. They tend to put their own needs below those of others. They do not like to quarrel and will rather keep silent so as not to create unnecessary noise (but also consider the Sun and Mercury)

3.From the outside, such a person gives the impression of an educated and calm person. They are like your beloved grandfather, to whom you can always come for hugs and interesting stories.They are very comfortable!

4.On the other hand, people with this placement claim that because of their social flexibility, it is difficult for them to understand who they really are. The influence of other people is so strong that it is difficult for them to hear their inner voice

5.They prefer oversize clothes in calm tones(but also consider your Venus). Loose or wavy hair suits them very well. Sweaters or cardigans fit them best!

[sometimesanalice]

Up the Ante

Summary: Rooster had heard the whispers. He knew what the stories were about- the ones that had followed him and Hangman around for years. You, however, are more than happy to find out for yourself if all the rumors were true.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Length: 9K+

Warnings: Smut. So. Much. Smut. (MINORS DNI)

(author's note: I regret nothing. Enjoy!)

Leave it to Jake Seresin to fuck up his plans.

Rooster had been in a really great mood when he’d arrived to the Hard Deck earlier that night. He’d beat most of the team there and had been on his way to go claim the pool table before the Friday night rush when he’d seen you out of the corner of his eye sitting at the bar.

He’d nearly given himself whiplash trying to get a better look at you. And then the next thing he knew, he’d found his feet taking him up to the stool right next to you. The mission to get the pool table completely forgotten.

And he still didn’t know how it was possible, but you were even prettier up close.

Even with the low dip of your creamy silky looking tank top, with all your skin taunting and teasing him, his eyes had stayed on yours the whole time as the two of you talked. That smile of yours was a bit too knowing. He could sense you were waiting, daring him to slip up.

Just for fun, just to see.

Yeah, you had his number alright. There was no question about it.

And fuck, if he wasn’t already down to let you toy with him whichever way you wanted. His cock twitching in his already slightly too snug jeans when he’d caught you checking him out after he’d ordered a fresh round of drinks from Jimmy.

The busier the bar got, the closer the two of you were pushed together as the other patrons clamored around waiting to place their orders. His forearm grazing against your exposed back from where he had it braced on your stool to keep you from getting jostled by thirsty sailors.

He’d stepped away for a moment when Natasha had called him over to back her up in a game with Reuben and Mickey. He he’d left you with a promise to be back, not wanting to come on too over bearing by not giving you any time to yourself. The groundwork was laid and he didn’t mind the wait.

He could be patient, he knew a good thing when he saw it.

And of course, when he’d looked back over his shoulder. There was Hangman with his elbow leaning on the bar, standing in the spot he’d just vacated. And looking at you like the cat who’d caught the canary with that fucking toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth.

Rooster really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d felt the other aviator’s gaze on him as he’d talked to you, could sense him waiting in the wings ready to make his move.

After the Uranium Mission, their tentative truce had grown into a casual camaraderie. But that didn’t mean they still didn’t enjoy riling each other up.

Jake had a tendency to steal his beer when he wasn’t looking, swapping it out with his empties behind his back. Not to mention, the way he liked to rack up a bill of Bradley’ tab.

And Bradley had no problem unplugging Penny’s jukebox approximately two minutes after watching Jake feed the machine his quarters before taking over on the piano. Playing whatever songs made the other man grimace the most.

But it had been years since they’d done this.

When the two of them had first met, their competition to be the best and one-up the other had spilled over from the skies into pretty much everything else. If one had flight simulation scores were topping the chart, then the other was figuring out how beating it. If one was benching a personal record, the other was already tacking on extra weight to their own.

So then, if one was talking to a pretty girl at the bar, the other was usually waiting for his moment to try and out charm, out talk, or out smile the other behind his back.

Or in front of his face.

Neither of them had cared to play fair back then. The bragging rights plastered across the winners face the next morning on base.

Rooster thought he’d made his intentions very clear. For all intents and purposes, he had claimed dibs. Well, as much as he could on a woman who was fully entitled and capable making her own decisions.

Now he was half way across the bar, watching as Hangman threw his cowboy hat into the ring.

“Jesus, Rooster. Stare any harder and you’re going to strain something, man,” Payback teased as he lined up his shot, before sending the freshly racked balls scattering on the pool table.

Bradley doesn’t respond, just brings the lukewarm beer to his mouth and downs the remaining few swigs. His hand tightening around the bottle as you throw your head back to laugh at something that Hangman has said, the sight of your exposed throat makes his mouth go dry.

“You know what they say, the more the merrier. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time, right?” Fanboy says with a laugh that gets cut off with a wheezy, breathy oof.

Looking over his shoulder, Bradley sees Phoenix looking down at Fanboy shaking her head at him as she dropped a couple there-there pats on the doubled over man’s back.

“Please that rumor has been around for years,” Nat stated, “Before we got called back, those two could barely be in the same airspace, let alone in the same bedroom.”

“I don’t know, I bet there’s more to that story. I heard-” Payback starts.

This time, Bradley turns around and raises an eyebrow. The conversation quickly finds a new subject, and he goes back to glaring at the back of Hangman’s head.

He wasn’t unaware of the pointed looks and whispers that had followed him and Seresin around.

Everyone seemed to have their own opinions on the topic. They did. They didn’t. A friend of a friend had seen them leave with a girl. A buddy said they saw them fighting in the parking lot over who got to take her home.

He didn’t care about the speculation, he’d even heard some pretty interesting drunken theories along the way. Any tips to sneak a girl in the barracks for a hookup in the laundry room? How can three people even fuck in the back of a Bronco? Or his favorite, I heard y’all did the Eiffel Tower in the ATC tower.

But he wasn’t one to feed the fire. He didn’t know the other man’s reasons for not indulging the curious questions, but Hangman must have felt the same way, since neither one of them had yet to confirm or deny the story.

It was easier to just grin and shrug and leave them guessing.

From his spot stationed at the pool table he could see there was interest in your eyes at you looked at Seresin. Just as he’d seen it when you had looked at him with that same keen perceptiveness, the heat that lingered behind the teasing. And fuck, if that didn’t make him want you even more.

He liked a woman who went after what she wanted.

That pull low in his stomach had been there since he’d first seen you and had only gotten worse as he watched Jake try and get under his skin.

It would be almost comical the way the asshole turns his head just enough in his direction to shoot him a wink before settling his hand on the top of your thigh, if it didn’t make his blood thrum hot in his veins.

“Bradshaw, it’s your turn.” He hears one of them try and get his attention, but 8-Ball wasn’t what he wanted to play right now.

He had a stake in a different game going on.

If you wanted Hangman over him, he would respect that. But he sure as shit wasn’t going to fold, not when he still had a hand worth playing.

“And there’s the cock walk…” he hears Nat mutter as pushes off the pool table to make his way across the bar.

He knew how to turn heads and how to work a room. But there was only one head he wanted to turn, only one person in the room he wanted to work. He was going to his damndest to ensure it was his bed you’re in tonight.

Bradley is downright shameless in the way he struts right up to the two of you. Letting his chest brush up against you as he claims the seat next to you. He murmurs your name low and raspy as he settles into the stool, catching the way your hips shift subtly in response. That pull behind his bellybutton only intensifying.

You don’t look surprised to see him, if anything you look intrigued. That full bottom lip pinned between your teeth, your cheek ticked up like you’re fighting back a satisfied smile.

“Well if it ain’t Rooster,” Hangman drawls, those dimples deepening with every passing moment, “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Bagman,” he grunts taking the whiskey from his hand. Feeling smug when your eyes latch on to his throat, watching as he swallows it down, savoring the warm burn of the free drink before he presses the empty glass back into the other man’s hand. “Looks like you’ve scored yourself another admirer, pretty girl. How’s he measure up? You can be brutally honest, it’d be good for him to keep his ego in check.”

You tilt your head at him, “So far I’ve got no complaints.”

“Damn straight you don’t,” Jake winks.

“How generous of you,” Rooster says, ignoring the other man completely, as he sets his hand on your leg.

He has always been a sucker for a pretty troublemaker.

Your tongue dips out to lick the rim of your glass, before taking another sip of the drink that he didn’t buy for you. “Oh, I can be very generous,” you all but purr.

“I bet,” Hangman cuts in, looking on entirely too pleased with himself.

Rooster leans in closer to you, “I thought I was the one buying your drinks tonight.” He can smell the faintest hint of your perfume, and he has to hold himself back from the urge to run his nose along the column of your neck to get a better whiff of it.

“I’m an equal opportunity drink receiver,” you say with a little shrug of your shoulder.

“Mhm, sounds good for the economy,” he allows.

“I do love to support small businesses.”

“There’s nothing small about it, baby,” Bradley says sliding his palm up higher on your thigh than would be considered decent. From the corner of his eye he can see Hangman clocking the movement. That shit eating grin going from teasing to knowing as he flips that stupid toothpick in his mouth.

“Was wondering how long it was going to take you to make a move,” Jake says reaching under your stool and pulling it out further from the way you’d been half tucked underneath the bartop. “Thought you were gonna just keep staring all night.”

“Nah, just thought I’d give you a fair shot. You know, since you usually rub people the wrong way,” Rooster smirks.

“Oh, now you and I both know I’d treat her just right,” Hangman says smoothly, not missing a beat. “You think you can keep up with a pretty thing like her, old man? Wouldn’t want to keep you from your Dan Brown novel or anything.”

“I’m sure I got a thing or two I could show you, son.”

The other pilot takes your chin between his thumb and finger turning your head to look at him, that grin bigger than ever, “You up for settling something between us, darlin’?”

Rooster is close enough to hear the hitch in your breathing and definitely close enough to see the way your thighs squeeze together.

“I guess that’s one way to up the ante,” you say as you reach up to pluck that toothpick from his mouth and popping it in yours instead. Grinning slyly around it as you uncross your legs to turn back towards him, your eyebrow cheekily cocked up and questioning.

Rooster’s eyes drift over to Seresin’s mouth. That cocky smirk plastered on his face takes him back to another time, on another night similar to this, when his lips had been slick-shined and that smile just as smug and self-satisfied.

He’s not sure how many bills he tossed on top of the bar before he grabbed your hand and tugged you off the stool, towing you with him as he strode to the door. Not bothering to check and see if the other man is following them, he already knows where he’ll be.

Bradley holds the door open for you to step through under his arm and the last thing he sees before he lets the door close behind him is Nat’s shocked face and Fanboy’s fist punching the air as Jake trails after them.

You felt too hot.

Your breathing was already coming out in ragged, breathy pants.  

The ride to Rooster’s house in his bright blue Bronco had been a blur of flashing lights and warm summer air and a hand heavy on your knee. Content in the passenger’s seat, even as he sped fifteen miles over the speed limit, in the surety of knowing whose headlights were bright and beaming in the rearview mirror.

But the feeling of two hot mouths working their way up and down your neck was definitely not a blur.

They’d had you pinned up against Bradley’s front door the moment it had shut behind the three of you. Barely waiting for the snick of the lock turning before making their move.

You weren’t sure whose thigh was pressed between your legs, but the solid width of it was dizzying as you rocked against it. You feel almost too aware of every part of your body. Your skin sensitive and responsive to every graze and touch of their strong, capable hands as they coast over your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps and raised hair with every pass.

Squeezing your hips. Tangling in your hair. Gripping your ass.

Their hard bodies were so tightly crowded against yours, that you weren’t even sure at this point if your own legs were the ones keeping you up as they took what they wanted and gave what they wanted.

Your puffy, swollen lips tingling as they took turns claiming your mouth with theirs.

It’s a lot, but in the best of ways, to hear their combined moans and groans over the thundering of your pulse in your ears. Their leather and wood smoke scents mixing together in the most deliciously heady way. All their solid angles and ridges pressed against your soft curves.

You’re vibrating with anticipation- with want- as your heart flutters in your chest like a caged bird, its wings beating against the too tight confines of your ribcage.

It’s already so good and no one is even naked yet.

One of them wraps their thought provokingly large hand around your throat as pulls you in to meet their mouth, gentle yet firm. The taste of whiskey and the brush of a mustache against your upper lip giving Bradley away. While another hungry mouth glides its way along your collarbone. The graze and nip of sharp teeth has you breaking your kiss to gasp at the sensation. Only to be met with a new set of demanding lips, you can feel Jake’s smirk against your mouth the moment right before he slips you his tongue.

Your own hands are greedy to get their fill of them. Running along thick forearms and broad chests and straining zippers. You want to map out every contour of their sculpted bodies. Every new muscle you find only makes you want to discover more.

There’s a moment when you think your knees might actually give this time out when Hangman bends down to take your peaked nipple in his mouth through your thin top with a mischievous gleam in his green eyes as he looks up at you and then hollows out his cheeks. The sight and sensation of it makes you suck in a shattered breath. If it weren’t for that thigh, Rooster’s you know now, keeping you upright you very much would have been a boneless puddle on the floor.

“You still think you can handle the two of us?” Jake challenges you with a dimpled grin before pulling you back into his mouth. Your nails dig into the back of his neck to keep him there, and he has the audacity to hum around you. The vibrations of it pulsing and spreading and settling over your craving clit.

“Well?” Bradley asks teasingly when you try and fail to reply, his warm hand sliding up your stomach under your top to palm at your other breast. And whatever you were going to say evaporates at the feel of his calloused thumb scraping over your taut nipple.

His curls are a mess and that look on his face promises the best kind of trouble.

“Fuck. Fuck. B-bedroom. Now,” you stutter and stumble over your words, overcome and overwhelmed. You hear one chuckle near your ear and the other moan into your throat at the neediness in your voice.

The three of you are gracefully uncoordinated in way you work your way to Rooster’s bedroom. You let them manhandle your pliant body around the furniture and corners of his home. What should have been a fairly straight shot turned into a meandering mess as your back is met with walls and doorframes and mouth is met with seeking and searing kisses.

Their shirts and belts and shoes lost somewhere along the way. A trail of items to be found later, laid out like points on a treasure map.

Inside Bradley’s room, your distracted eyes catch on some black and white landscape prints hung on a dove gray wall and a California King pressed another. Minimal, modern, manly. You’d be more nosey if it weren’t for the way you’re caught between them, as Hangman licked up your neck and Rooster ran his tongue along the backs of your teeth.

Your skin erupts in goosebumps as the cool air of Bradley’s air conditioning wafts over your arms. Not that your low-cut top with its open back and flimsy straps offered much for warmth to begin with, which was exactly why you’d worn it in the summer heatwave.

One set of demanding hands works on the button of the fitted jeans that made your ass look great, while the other insatiable pair grabs at the hem of your top pulling it up and off of your body with silky ease. They work together in quiet tandem with such swift efficiency that leaves you almost entirely nude, with the exception of your barely-there panties, before their greedy eyes in no time at all.

“Don’t know what a desperate little thing like you is thinking by wearing white and lookin’ like an angel,” Jake drawls low and taunting against your ear, his breath warm as it sails down the column of your throat, “But since you like the color so much, I think you’d look even prettier wearing our come.”

The flickering flame in your body that had been lit before you’d even left the Hard Deck finally roars to life at his coarse and crude words. You’d almost be offended by them if they weren’t the reason heat explodes like a fireball low in your stomach. Devastating and all consuming.

The noise that tears out of you in response isn’t one you think you’ve ever made before. Your head whips towards him so fast it makes you a little unsteady on your already wobbly legs, and you feel Rooster’s fingers flex on your hips before you pull away.

There’s a wide grin plastered on Jake’s face, only a couple impeccably white and straight teeth away of being down right self-satisfied.

Smug, he’s so damn smug.

He has been ever since he saddled up to you at the bar, like he already knew how the night was going to end. And you don’t know whether you want to wipe that look off of Hangman’s pretty face or to taste those dimples on his cheeks.

You do neither.

Instead, you push Jake onto the edge of the bed, your hands going straight to his zipper to pull out his cock, then watch as that perfectly-perfect and perfectly-infuriating smile falls from his face as you sink to your knees and take him in your mouth and down to the hilt.

“Jesus Christ.”

It’s your turn to be smug now as you watch his Adam’s apple dip as he swallows hard.

Jake’s smirk is long gone, replaced with intense look as you pull off of him to lick and lave along the long vein on the side of his length, looking up at him from beneath your mascara darkened lashes, before drawing him back in your open mouth. He’s so handsome like this and it makes your stomach tighten and seize.

“So damn eager,” you hear Rooster croon over the slippery sounds of you’re making.

You feel confident and totally at home in your own skin under the appreciative eyes of the two men, with Hangman in front of you and Bradley mere steps behind you. The buzz from your tequila had worn off long ago, and the thrill you are feeling is a different kind of high.

You were already wet before you left the bar, but now you are soaked. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on, at least not for a very long time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Bradley could see the evidence of your arousal glistening between your thighs from the way you’re kneeling in front of Jake.

From the corner of you eye, you can see Rooster taking his time as he shucks off the rest of his clothes haphazardly before fisting himself in his big hand as he takes in the sensual scene in front of him. You can feel all the places his eyes linger and trail over, those flames in your stomach spreading over your body like a wildfire.

Grateful for the work Bradley did getting your jeans off earlier, you slip a hand into your panties to get your fingers on your aching clit. You whimper at the instant relief that you feel as you touch yourself. Keening in pleasure around Hangman’s cock, which makes him widen his legs and throw his head back to moan in response.

This wasn’t going to be some hook up cloaked in the cover of a dark room. No, you were going to be on full display for them, just as they’d be for you. And the thought of it up makes you clench against nothing.

You were something brilliant and radiant to look at and you knew it. You wanted them to look, you wanted their eyes to take their fill.

“You going to join, Rooster? Or are you back to sittin’ on that perch?” the blonde goads him, with a sharp smile. His voice strained around the edges of his words as his fists clutch at the fabric of the duvet cover beneath them. “I’m sure you can find some way to keep yourself occupied even though her mouth busy at the moment.”

You reach up with your free hand and give that chain a little tug then dragging it down his chest, your nails digging slightly into his firm pecs before scraping down his abs. He surprises you with a light thrust of his hips that has you settling that tricky hand on his tense thigh for better balance as you continue to work him.

“Just watching how our girl is touching herself,” Bradley replies as he walks over. He is such a sight with all that sunkissed skin on display. “So needy, she can’t even bother waiting her turn.”

You hollow your cheeks around Jake for good measure before releasing him from your mouth, to grasp him in your hand, treating him to a twist of your wrist, “Got tired of waiting, had to take matters into my own hands.”

You wanted them to touch you, to feel them everywhere. You wanted to be taken apart and put back together. You wanted to be thoroughly wrecked by them.

“That so, huh?” The way that Bradley’s smile ticks up makes you suck in a sharp breath, your restless fingers making sloppy circles against that sensitive part of you at the sight of it. “Tell me, how wet are you?”

He looks so good standing next you from your position on your knees and if both of your hands weren’t already busy you’d be reaching out for his heavy cock.

“Why don’t you come find out for yourself?” you dare him, arching your back a little for his benefit.

“But you look so pretty taking care of yourself,” Rooster says cupping your cheek in his hand, then turning his head to the man seated on the bed, “Hey, Seresin, don’t you remember her saying something about her generosity?”

They grin at each other before looking back down at you, and it’s all you can to not squirm under their weighty, heated gaze.

“You know, that does seem to ring a bell, Bradshaw.” A wolf trussed up like the boy-next-door.

“Why don’t you show us just how generous you can be, pretty girl,” Rooster says reaching down pulling your hand out from your panties, his hand wrapped around your forearm, and offers up your shiny fingers to the man you’re kneeling in front of.

Hangman holds your gaze as his tongue reaches out to meet them. Your already erratic heartbeat sets a new rhythm as it slips and glides in a sensual show around them before curing around them to draw them into his cocksure mouth. A deep satisfied hum emanating from his chest as he tastes you.

Bradley releases his hold on you and skims his fingers up along your arm and up the side of your neck, massaging that tapered divot at base of your skull.

Your jaw falls open as you watch Jake bob his head on your fingers like you had been doing on his cock not even five minutes earlier. He shoots you a filthy wink was you watch the debauchery up close in personal, leaning in closer, mesmerized by the sheen of spit coating your fingers. He pulls them from your mouth with one more lewd lick, and then crooks his pointer finger under your chin and turns your head towards Rooster.

“Why don’t you be a sweet little thing and show Bradshaw what he’s missing out on, darlin’,” Jake says, its less of a suggestion and more of a command. One you are happy to oblige.

You hold your tongue out for Rooster in an open invitation and he rumbles his approval.

“Now that’s a pretty picture,” Bradley murmurs, but doesn’t move any closer. He waits for your dazed eyes to meet his heated ones, before nodding his head towards Hangman, who you’re still pumping him with long, smooth strokes, “Go on then, finish what you started. I can wait.” You make a noise of dissatisfaction at being denied the taste of him. He chuckles lightly, “I promise, we’ll take real good care of you soon.”

And with that promise you wrap your lips around Jake again. He spreads his legs wider to accommodate you as you reach to cup his balls in your hand, massaging them.

You feel Rooster settle his hand heavy on the crown of your head, his fingers threading in your hair, before pressing you forward, guiding the motion of your mouth on Jake’s cock. Encouraging you to take more, more, more before pulling you back, only to urge you forward once again.

It’s easy to lose yourself and relax into the push and pull of it as you let them take over. Letting them use you how they want, preening under their crooning praise. Hangman is looking down on you with half-lidded eyes and gives you a slow, wide smile when a thick thread of saliva drips on to your sternum and down your chest.

Your attention-seeking clit throbs in time with your rapid pulse, whimpering pitifully when you can’t get any relief no matter how you shift and squirm.

Then Bradley is tugging on your strands to get you on your feet and meets you for a heady kiss. He hooks his thumbs under the band of your panties and pulls them down your legs, a little lacy heap to decorate his floor.

“Get on the bed, baby.”

Yes, yes, oh yes.

Jake shoves his jeans down the rest of the way and kicks them off. The way he climbs on the bed is all easy grace as he props himself against the headboard. You’re quick to clamber up on your hands and knees between his legs, looking over your shoulder for Rooster’s nod of approval before you lean down to take him back in your mouth.

There has been so much build up. You know that they’ve been easing you into this in their own way, but you’re so desperate for more. You’re like balloon overfilled and taut, one right touch and you might burst.

“God, you’re already so wet.” You feel Bradley’s rough squeeze on the backs of both your thighs followed by the comforting caress of his thumbs, “C’mon, show me that pretty pussy. Let me see it.”

You tilt your hips up, up, up- you want, you need- offering yourself to him until you’re treated to his tongue on you. At last. His wide long licks have you canting your hips further searching for more. The feeling of his lips and mustache against that delicate part of you makes you cry out in satisfaction.

“So greedy,” Jake teases, as his thumb runs gently along your jawline.

He is hot and heavy on your tongue. There is a light sheen of sweat coating his chest, his abs flexing and contracting with every uneven breath. That chain around his neck winking at you from the lamp in the corner of the room. He called you an angel earlier, but he’s the one who looks like sweet sin, a heavenly hedonist.

The filthy sounds of your messy mouth and Rooster’s satisfied groans filling the room as you work one pilot and the other works you. You can feel your orgasm building swiftly, those flames from before being stoked by their grasping hands and teasing lips and dirty words.

The shock of the feeling two of Bradley’s thick fingers glide and curl into you without any resistance, of having something inside of you for the first time all night, sends your body jolting forward. Your hands clutching at the sheets as you sputter and gag around Jake.

“Holy shit,” he pulls you off of him with a pop, a line of spit stretching from your mouth to his glistening cock, “Don’t want to come in your mouth.” Hangman takes your head between his big hands, cradling you carefully. “Goddamn, look at you. You feelin’ good?” It’s all you can do to rapidly nod your head yes. “You should see her, Rooster, she’s real close.”

You hear Bradley chuckle huskily behind you, “And we’ve barely even gotten started.” He targets that spot in you with merciless precision as he scrapes his mustache along your spine dropping kiss after wet kiss. “Now, come on my fingers like a good girl.”

And with his raspy voice in your ear and Jake’s tongue in your mouth, you shatter.

It’s all white noise as one of the maneuvers you gently on to your back as you come down. The feeling of the cool sheets a welcomed sensation on your heated skin. Even though you’re still reeling, you can hear the warmth in their voices as your mind clings to a few select words.

Good. Perfect. Soft. Sweet. Pretty. Generous.

You feel a body shift above you, their sturdy weight only an echo of what it could be if they weren’t holding themselves aloft. Your eyes float open to see Rooster caging you on his bed within the shelter of his sculpted arms.

Next to you Jake is propped up his side, the graze of his fingertips is featherlight as they meander up and down the length of your arm. As if he is content to simply be touching your soft skin.

“You still having fun?” Bradley asks with a knowing smile on his face. Using his thumb, he wipes at some of the saliva smeared under your bottom lip.

“The most,” you grin, turning your head to capture it between your lips.

Rooster watches you in rapt as you suck, giving his thumb the same treatment as you’d given Hangman’s cock, all wet tongue and hollowed out cheeks. The pupils of his pretty brown eyes blown wide. His cock resting heavy on your stomach.

“We’re gonna make a mess out of you,” Bradley promises as he presses his thumb down on your tongue. You look up at him with your best doe-eyes, parting your mouth to give him a better view of the way it pillows around his thumbpad. He applies a bit more pressure with a smirk before removing it from your mouth completely.

“Yes, please.”

He leans in close and your eyes flutter shut at the anticipation of the brush of his lips on yours.

And then he spits right in your waiting mouth.

“Atta girl.”

His smile grows at the whine that comes out of you. He drops a kiss to your forehead and stands back up, towering over you. It’s a visual feast of abs and broad shoulders and tan skin and mischievous eyes. “Pretty sure you almost made Jake see God,” he says looking over, giving the other man a lazy smirk.

“Fuck off,” he says without heat and laughs. Leaning over from where he’s been lounging next to you, he wraps his hand around the nape of our neck and pulls you in, licking deep into your mouth wet with his pre-come and Rooster’s spit. “How’s about you finally show Bradshaw what that pretty mouth can do, while I settle up and repay the favor.”

You don’t know what to make of the look that passes between the two men as they switch spots. It’s a challenge, it’s a dare. You’re still loose-limbed from your orgasm, but you can feel the tension starting to coil low in your stomach again at the glint in their eyes as Bradley crowds up next to you on the bed while Jake stands at the end of it.

Rooster kisses up along your body, his tongue darting out to taste the beads of sweat that are collecting in the valley of your breasts. If you listen closely you can still hear the whir of the air conditioning, but it’s not of much use when you feel like an inferno.

You sigh out when his mouth meets yours. You grasp his face between your hands to keep him close, not wanting to be denied his lips again. Your thumb stroking at the cleft of his chin. Finally. Finally. Finally. You feel like spun sugar, the wet slide of his lips against yours makes you feel like you’re about to dissolve into sweet nothingness.

There’s no hesitation in the way that Hangman situates himself between your parted legs, easing one over his shoulder and then the other. He trails butterfly kisses from your knee and up the inside of your leg. You shiver at the sensation, luxuriating in his touch.

“Condoms?” Jake asks into the crease of your thigh.

You shake your head and let go of Bradley’s face to tap at the spot on your upper arm where that flexible piece of plastic is placed under the skin. They nod their understanding, their agreement.

At least someone still had their feet on the ground, because it feels like your head is in the clouds.

“Thought you said I’d look prettier covered in come?” you try to tease but it just comes out breathy, throwing Hangman’s own words from earlier back at him. Then turning your head to look at Rooster next to you, “Thought you were going to make a mess out of me?” 

You know you’re playing with fire. However, you also know that if at any point you couldn’t handle the heat that they would haul you out of the kitchen themselves.

But why stay out of the kitchen when you can just set it on fire yourself?

“Jesus,” Jake curses and nips at your hipbone.

“Fuck’s sake, you really can’t help yourself, can you?” Bradley huffs amused but strained, his eyes raking over you.

The nope and the ‘P’ you were planning to pop gets stuck in your throat as Hangman pins your legs open to the bed, holding you down so you can’t escape his tongue as he licks a hot stripe through the center of you. Your jaw drops open wordlessly.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” Hangman grunts and then dips his tongue into you again.

One of your hands flies into his sandy blonde hair, while the other reaches out for the sunkissed man next to you. The feeling of Rooster’s fingers lacing between your outstretched ones grounding you as the pressure starts building again.

Where Bradley had been all enthusiastic delving and relentless devouring, Jake is all honed accuracy as he flicks and circles and sucks your clit. There’s no slow build up, he’s not content to simply let you sail smoothly into your next orgasm, not with the way his fingers are working you. No, Jake is set on being the one to push you over that edge himself. And he’ll do it with a blinding white smile and a tip of his hat.

Bradley moves to kneel by your head, stroking his thick cock a few times before offering it to you. The groan that comes out of him when you lick the underside of him before taking him in your mouth is quite possibly one of the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. His large hand comes to cradle your jaw as you bob up and down on his length.

It doesn’t take long until you’re keening and moaning around him as you come alive under their eyes and touch.

“You look so pretty like this,” Rooster murmurs, his thumb alternating between gliding around your stretched lips and caressing your bulging cheek. “You’re taking my cock so well.”

You know you’re making a mess out of him, but if anything, you feel him grow even harder in your mouth as you take him further into your throat. The sounds coming from you obscene as you lick and suck and swallow around him. You’re trying to stay focused on taking care of him, but Hangman’s tongue and fingers are making it hard for you to concentrate.

Jake is relentless with the two fingers he has working inside of you. His other hand smooths up your torso, long fingers stretched wide, as if he is trying to touch as much of you as possible. And then he’s grabbing at your breasts, massaging one and then moving to the other.

It’s getting overwhelming with so many points of pleasure all vying for your undivided attention. You feel so good, too good. Your chest is tight with want it’s getting harder to take a full breath, the shallow shaky things you’ve been taking making you lightheaded.

You blindly mouth at Rooster’s cock and balls and thighs, whatever you can reach and latch onto as you let your hand take over stroking him. Just for a moment, just to catch your breath.

You whimper when Bradley pulls away from you, only to feel his big body slide down on the bed next to you, his warm hands soothing over your too tight skin.

“That mouth too much for you, Rooster?” Jake grins with shiny lips before slipping a third finger into you, curling them against your front wall, making you keen.

“I know, it’s a lot, but you’re keeping up with us like a champ,” Bradley says to you, pulling you in for a kiss. He reaches down for one of your thighs, pulling it off the other pilot’s shoulder and over his own hip, holding you open. His hand knocks Hangman’s thumb out of the way and his takes over making nonsensical patterns on your clit, making you moan at the contact. “And you should go back to making yours more useful,” he lobs back to the man between your legs. 

In your haze, you wonder how they can even share the skies if they’re this competitive in the bedroom.

“Yeah, and what’s yours doin’ up there?” Jake asks, giving it right back to him. You can hear how wet you are as his fingers slide in and out of you, as the Bradley picks up the pace of his movements against you.

“Someone’s got to tell her how good she’s doing,” you can hear the smile in Rooster’s voice as he kisses your neck. He gently runs his lips and mustache along the shell of your ear, “We know how much she like a compliment.”

“Bradley.” The admonishment is lost in your gasp as the faintest graze of his fingernail again your sensitive clit has your back arching off the mattress and your hips bucking against both sets of hands.

“You sound so wrecked, baby. I like how my name sounds in your mouth when you’re all fucked out like this.”

“And those whimpers? I swear, she making the sweetest sounds I’ve ever heard,” Hangman tacks on.

You want to give as good as you’re getting, but your hurtling towards that point again. Already teetering back and forth, almost but not quite there. Overwhelmed, oversensitive, but still needing, wanting...

“More, I need more, Jake,” you’re not quite begging but you’re close, your heel is digging into his shoulder blade, urging him closer. “Jake, I want to come.”

Your clit is aching under Rooster’s teasing touch, and you are squirming and shifting and rocking trying to get more of Jake’s fingers inside of you. You groan when Jake pulls them out of you completely, stopping your motions with a rough grip on your hips. Somewhere in the back of your mind you find yourself hoping that you’ll still be wearing his fingerprints tomorrow morning.

“Nu-uh, greedy girl, you’ll take what we give you,” Hangman says as he stands up and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, a streak of your wetness shining on his cheek.

And then his thick cock is pushes into you and all the air leaves your lungs.

His thrusts are measured and slow and sure. Filling you up and then leaving you empty, over and over and over again. His fingers are still digging into your hips leaving you at his mercy, to take what he gives you. Nothing more and nothing less than what he wants.

You didn’t know All-American Texan boys could pull of such a dirty look of pure debauchery, but he wore it so damn well.

There’s no holding back the noise of frustration that comes out of you when Rooster’s teeth graze over your breast, before he sucks your nipple into his hot mouth. He is hard and hot as he grinds himself against the curve of you.

It would be so, so good if didn’t felt like you were bobbing along in a wooden barrel waiting for a drop over Niagara Falls. The anticipation of that freefall thrumming in your veins, but one that never seems to get any closer as you dangle there.

“Stop teasing me,” you whine.

Jake pushes into you with that same devasting slowness and then stops, his hips pressed tightly against yours. “I’m inside you, aren’t I?” he challenges with a raise of his eyebrow.

You don’t want to agree, what you want is to come. With great effort on your part you reluctantly nod your head, hoping your cooperation will get him to speed up or go harder. You’d literally anything to stop feeling like a butterfly with its wings pinned open and preserved.

“Then I ain’t teasin’.”

Those dimples are on full display, as he pulls out leisurely, letting your feel every bit of him, and then pounds into you.

You’re thankful when he takes pity on you and the rolling of his hips picks up. Harder, faster, deeper. His chest is flushed pink, making that golden chain stand out even more. A bead of sweat works its way down his neck, between his defined pecs, and travels along the contours of his sculpted body.

“Jesus, did you talk this much last time, Seresin?” Rooster asks, pulling his mouth off of you to watch as his own fingers and Hangman’s cock work together in sync between your thighs.

“And he said I was the mouthy one,” you all but pant out.

You tug on his curls trying to get him to put his mouth back on your breast, his spit cooling on your nipple making it pebble more than you thought possible. Instead, he just smirks down at you, and applies more pressure on your clit. Those nonsensical patterns transforming into tight devastating circles.

“I need… I need-”

“Such a bossy thing,” Jake mutters, “Only thing you need to be focusing on, darlin’, is falling apart for me.” The edge in his voice and the strain of his thighs as he thrusts into you the only things giving him away that he’s just as desperate as you are. “Rooster wants to watch you come. Isn’t that right, Bradshaw?”

“Sure do,” he agrees against the pounding pulse point on your throat. You don’t need a mirror to know the delicate skin is agitated from the coarse hairs of his mustache. The heat rolling off of him in waves is a contrast to the draft of the air conditioning hitting your body just right from the way he has you spread open over his hip. “I wanna see that pretty face as you come around his cock.”

Your fingers scramble to find something, anything to hold on to. Feeling like the seams of your skin, those silken threads of the last of your resolve, fray and snap. Rooster’s eyes holding yours as you start to unravel.

The sound of skin on skin fills your ears, followed by Hangman’s ragged breathing as you flutter and clench against him. “You feel so fucking good around me,” he moans, “Such a perfect pussy.”

Lightening hot pleasure races along your spine before shooting out along your muscles and tendons and ligaments, all the things keeping your body together. And your mind whites out as you come for them.

You feel Jake’s rhythm falter and stutter as he works to get himself closer of that place of perfect devastation, as you shutter and quake from the aftershock. He fucks into you harder chasing his own climax before emptying himself inside of you.

His cock buried so deep in you as you take his come. The two of you both breathing hard.

Bradley slips his wet fingers into your mouth and you lave the taste of yourself off of his skin almost in a daze as you wait for the gravity to settle into your weightless limbs. His lips are gentle as he trails soft kisses along your hairline, his hardness pressed against you a reminder there’s still more in store for you.

You whimper when Jake pulls out of you.

“Knew you’d look good like this,” he says running his hands along the tops of your thighs and watching as his come trickles out of you onto Bradley’s duvet.

Rooster takes his fingers from your mouth and nudges his nose against your heated cheek, “You still got more in you?”

He pulls away, those brown eyes searching yours.

“Want your cock,” you whisper and lean in for a kiss. He meets you with tenderness, while you meet him with heat. Licking into him the moment he parts his lips for you.

Hangman gives your thighs one last squeeze and lets go.

“Come ‘ere,” Rooster grunts as he shifts and pulls you on top of him, lining himself up with your dripping cunt. You don’t dare look away as he slowly feeds you the generous length of him, inch by inch.

You drape yourself across him and burry your face in that spot between his neck and shoulder at the stretch of him as he fills the space between your legs. Feeling the muscles of his arms wrapped around you. His wood smoke scent filling your nose. The salt of him on your tongue as you lick at the sweat that’s collected along the line of his collarbone.

It is dizzying being this surrounded by Bradley, he’s everywhere.

“How are you still so tight? You literally just took his cock,” he rasps.

You feel a hand brush back some of the hair from your face and you turn your head into the warm touch. When you open your eyes, you see Jake crouching there by the bed next to you, his green eyes filled with affection, “You doing a good job for Rooster too?”

“Yes,” you sigh as Bradley hums his agreement. The deep, languid roll of hips as he thrusts into you, working you open for his cock, is so good that it makes fingers dig into his biceps.

“Good girl,” he says, nipping at you ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Keep doing her like that, Rooster, her legs are startin’ to shake.”

And then he lands an open-handed slap to your ass that makes you clench and Rooster groan as he laughs lightly to himself, entirely too pleased.

It’s a masterpiece of teeth and tongues, moans and gasps, and dirty praise rumbled into ears. When that telltale tightness in your stomach starts, you begin rocking back against him desperately. Meeting him thrust for thrust. You’re so coiled in knots that not even the most seasoned sailor could untangle you.

You can feel your orgasm rising up to meet you. So close, so close.

And then choking down a sob as you’re pulled upright to a sitting position astride Bradley, with Hangman’s forearm banded around your waist and supported by his dewy chest.

“‘s too big,” you whimper.

“Ah, ah. There you go, you can take it,” Jake coaches into your ear as he encourages you to take more of Rooster’s cock. “You’re almost there. Just a little bit more.”

Bradley licks his lips as he watches you writhe and squirm above him until there’s no space between your bodies. His fingertips digging into your hipbones. The stretch of him making you ache in the best of ways, your eyes fluttering at the sensation of sinking impossibly further on him. Both hands braced on his chest, thumbs seeking the little patch of chest hair.

You lean your head back and are met with Jake’s mouth. His kiss filthy as his teeth graze against your full bottom lip and his tongue sweeps against yours.

There are no words for how full you feel, for how good you feel.

Bradley’s face and neck are flushed and his waves are a mess from your handiwork. And you’re struck again by just how handsome he is. You give him a roll of your hips, anticipating a thrust that doesn’t come. Your eyebrows pinch together and you try again to get him to meet you half way. Waiting, waiting, waiting for more.

“I want-”

“I know what you want,” Rooster croons as he cuts you off, sliding a hand up your pulled too taut body to palm at your breast. You whine when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger and then tugs. “C’mon, want to see you ride me. That’s it, baby, use me to get yourself off.”

The wet, sticky sounds of your own arousal and Jake’s come are amplified in the quiet room as you fuck yourself on Bradley’s cock. The sweat is collecting behind your knees and along your hairline. You let your head lull back onto Jake’s shoulder, knowing he’ll keep you upright.

You want to be good for him. You want to be good for them.

Both men have been determined to wring every ounce of pleasure from your body and then asked for even more. The burn in your thighs so good as you rock and grind on the man beneath you, but you don’t know how much more you have left to give.

“Doing still alright, darlin’?”

You turn your head enough to mouth along Jake’s jawline and hope he takes it for the yes your tongue is too tired to say.

“Think our girl’s getting worn out,” Bradley says sympathetically, but is looking up at you with pride in his eyes.

 “You’ve been doing so well for us. How about you let Rooster and I take care of you now, huh?”

“Please.” It sounds pitiful even in your own ears, but you can’t be bothered to care too much at the moment.

You whimper quietly as Jake’s warm, heavy hand settles between your shoulder blades and presses you back down.

Bradley wraps his arms around you holding you close against his sweat-slicked chest. The tears prickle in the corner of your eyes as you tuck your head back into his neck, knowing that the two men are more than capable to get you there again. That they’ll take care of you.

That you can just feel, that you can just be, that you can just take.

“Hold her open for me, Bradshaw.”

You feel Bradley’s hands slide around you, grabbing rough handfuls of your ass. You’re exposed in a different way you’ve been all night, under Jake’s sharp, keen eyes that you can’t see but feel on you all the same, as the other man pumps in and out of you.

“You should see how she’s dripping down you, Rooster. That cunt is coating you real good.”

“I don’t need to see it, when I can feel it,” he pants against your ear. You want to remind them that it’s not just only your arousal alone that’s making a sure to be shiny mess along the length of him, but it’s all you can do to clutch at Bradley’s waves as he keeps building you up.

Of all the things you were experiencing in that moment, it’s no surprise that you miss the subtle ghosting of Jake’s warm breath over that pleated part of you, but it’s the feeling of his wet tongue skimming around the rim of it that send you reeling.

“Fuck me,” Rooster moans, his arms tightening around you, “Whatever you just did, do it again. She liked it. Didn’t you, baby?” You babble out something unintelligible as you fist his hair, but your vigorous nod can’t be interpreted for anything other than your enthusiastic consent. “Could feel that you did, gotta give our girl what she likes. She deserves it after being so good for us.”

His voice huskier, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. That slight accent that only sometimes made an appearance, finally out in full force.

You let out a strangled cry when Hangman does it again, your toes curling at the new feeling. You’ve never taken two men like that before, but even the idea of it makes you lightheaded.

From there you lose yourself in the dueling sensations. At Bradley’s ruinous, deep thrusts. Of his perfect cock hitting you just right, targeting that spot that has you quaking. Of Hangman’s tricky tongue circling, circling. And his thick finger pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing.

Circling, circling, pressing. Until-

“Ah!”

You bite down on that pretty scar on Rooster’s shoulder, needing something to keep you from feeling like you were going to fly away. From feeling like you could explode into nothingness. It’s a different kind of fullness, one that steals your breath even as it gives you life.

“That’s it, nice and easy, darlin’.”

There’s nothing nice or easy about the two men working you. The push and pull of them so in tune with each other, so set on making you see stars one last time.

“I can feel you’re there. Want you to come on this cock,” Bradley grits out, as he thrusts into you, his hands spreading you wider for his benefit and Jake’s. The tendon on is throat standing out in a way that makes your mouth water. “Come on, come for us.”

When you come with a cry, body shaking and back arching with devastating pleasure. It’s an orgasm that gives as much as it and takes and takes and takes.

Rooster is swift to follow after you with a couple more powerful thrusts, as he spills himself inside of you with a low, satisfied groan. You spasm and quiver and convulse around him, milking him with every tremor that dances through your thoroughly spent body.

When you come to, the first thing you’re aware of is how perfectly warm you are pressed between two hard bodies. The next is the delicious ache between your thighs and the mess there, as you grin to yourself with your eyes closed. Luxuriating in the endorphin rush as it washes over you.

A calloused thumb strokes your cheek.

“There she is,” you hear Jake say.

Someone’s long fingers thread between your own, squeezing your hand.

“Jesus, fuck,” you hear Bradley pant next to you, “How was that even better than last time?”

“More practice?” you offer, finally opening your eyes.

Both men look a sweaty mess, their hair a riot and their cheeks still pink from the exertion. And you know you probably aren’t faring much better, but it’s the warm affection and the easy smiles on their faces that sets your heart a racing again.

It’s been a little over four years since you had first met the two of them in Pensacola during a training contingent for a recon mission.

You were about to call it a night at the Navy bar near the base, mentally cursing whoever signed off on sending you to the state in the middle of a heat wave, when a broad man in a Hawaiian shirt had slid up to you at the bar. It would have been comical on anyone with less muscles, but he also had the smile to pull it off. You didn’t quite know what to make of it at first when the clean-cut blonde, the one with a mega-watt grin and a toothpick gripped between his teeth, had set a drink in front of you with a wink.

There wasn’t any way of missing the tension radiating between them, but you weren’t about to get caught in the middle of their petty pissing contest. You knew a rivalry when you saw one. And they were pilots after all, you knew their type.

It wasn’t until you held that chilled glass up to your overheated neck, catching the way they both tracked that bead of condensation as it traveled down your throat and disappearing between your cleavage, that you thought things could get interesting.

And well, it had escalated quickly from there.

“I haven’t even been here seventy-two hours yet, and I’ve already heard about your fabled hook up twice,” you say with a giggle, leaning your forehead on Jake’s shoulder.

“Mm, I’ve heard that rumor too,” Rooster chuckles.

“Who knew the Navy had so many damn gossips,” Hangman laughs, “I swear to god, they talk more shit than the little old ladies in my grandma’s knitting circle.”

Bradley picks up your entwined hands and brings them to his mouth, kissing your fingertips with a fond look in his eyes, “So how long are you here for?”

“Well, speaking of rumors,” you say conspiratorially, “Have you heard the one about a certain Chief Warrant Officer Bernie Coleman and the opening on his new strategic team for a permanent for a member?” The teasing smirk growing on your face as the realization dawns on them.

You had been treating yourself to a celebratory drink at the finalized paperwork and impending transfer when Rooster had spotted you sitting there earlier when the whole night truly began.

“Huh,” Bradley says with a sly smile, “Now that sure is one interesting rumor. The person who lands that gig must be very smart. Sounds like that certain someone would be the right person to settle a bet. ”

“Mhm and probably very full of good ideas,” you can’t help but preen.

“What do you say, Rooster, best two out of three?” Jake asks, with a cheeky gleam in his eyes, “You up for a little tiebreaker, darlin?”

You look from one to the other with a grin.

“I’m all in.”

In the immortal words of the Spice Girls "spice up your life" 💃🏼 Thanks for reading!

Many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse and @laracrofted for their help!

This was written as part of @sushiwriterhere Threesomissance 2023 event!

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You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

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[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Glowing Green

~

Everyone at some point has vaguely heard about the Uranium Fever, how it glowed green which became very popular, many people liked the aesthetic of it.

The people who worked in creating things with uranium were the ones who had the most contact with it and began to show side effects especially when in the beginning when they didn't really know just how bad it was to people.

Now lets switch the uranium to ectoplasm

The Fentons are always wearing those suits to protect themselves from the harm of ecto,

But what about the rest?

Jazz and Danny don't casually wear the suit anytime not even in the basement,

Where they have it everywhere not properly contained

The Portal is there

Always open

Always leaking ecto into their home

The food they grew up eating tend to be on some level always contaminated

They've been ingesting ecto

The only reason Danny survived having the portal open on top of him was because of his life long exposure to it

Nothing Else

Now the portal is new, before that there was only enough ecto to contaminate inside their house

But with the portal open with no precaution to just how much ecto it begins to leak outside of their home into Amity Park

The town begins to glow green

Ecto is not a natural thing on Earth for humans

Humans were never suppose to have been near so much ecto

This has consequences

Amity Park known for being 'The Most Haunted Place in America'

Will truly become a Ghost Town

~

If ya'll are a bit curious about the history behind it check this out (?・・)σ

~

Just an Idea

[bradshawsbitch]

best friend | bob floyd x f!reader

a second part

this fic is for @roosterforme 's Valentines Day challenge - #love is in the air tgm! for this fic I chose the song 'You're My Best Friend' by Queen - count on me to make the simpiest song on earth a smidge angsty!

disclaimer; as always with me - I set out to write fluff... and I have to go through the five stages of grief first apparently. this did not turn out quite like I first thought, but I hope you'll like it still! it does have a fluffy ending!

plot; bob has always known he needs you. but perhaps he needs you more than he himself knows?

warnings; fluff with a small preamble of angst, female!reader, no use of y/n, uranium mission, mentions of earlier overconsumption of alcohol, mentions of bloody nose, mentions of throwing up, cursing, cuddling naked (is this a warning? i don't know. it's in there), l-bombs, bob tying your shoes bc heart eyes.

word count; ~3.4K

tagging people who might like; @theharddeck @rhettabbotts @lt-bradshaw @roleycoleyreccenter @sebsxphia @laracrofted @gretagerwigsmuse @hangmanbrainrot @hangmanapologist

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‘you make me live’

Robert Floyd was a very clean-cut man. His glasses, the birth control ones, were neat and tidy on his face, rarely crooked, and rested (a little uncomfortably if he were allowed to complain) against the bridge of his nose. He much preferred his old ones, the ones that he had had as a teenager, horn rimmed and snug and comfortable against his nose. But those had broken during a stint he’d pulled just before he joined the Navy, and thus - birth control goggles it was for him. To be fair he figured it suited his new lifestyle better. Neat. Unassertive. 

As a teen, Robert, at that time most known as Robby, was not quite as tidy and neat as he was now. The Robert that you, his best friend, had come to know was definitely on the more rowdy side. He drank quite heavily, and had the occasional smoke as well - something he was fairly certain would shock Hangman’s smirk right off his face if Bob ever wished to shatter the illusion of naivety he’d shouldered. 

It would sometimes irk Bob when people at first construed him as meek. Sure, he’d never been the most social butterfly, and meeting new people always seemed a bit daunting no matter how much practice he had. He figured that might be why he had drank so heavily in his late teens. He’d wanted to be able to talk to people and not feel as if he wanted to sink through the floor because he stuttered once.

After every stutter he uttered, Bob cursed up a storm in his head at his own incompetence. He was far from upset though, he was fucking pissed. How was it that he knew exactly what he wanted to say, yet his tongue betrayed him so wholly? It hardly seemed fair that he actually had so much to say, yet didn’t possess the ability to voice it. If people only knew how eloquent he had sounded in his head.

He guessed that’s why he liked you so much. That first time that you met, and Robert’s tongue had done its best to trip him up at every turn, you’d just smiled warmly at him - eyes twinkling with genuine interest as he spoke. The more you gave him your undivided attention, without letting your gaze flicker away from his face, the more confident Bob had grown - as if his mouth and tongue suddenly remembered how to do their jobs properly when he felt more relaxed, and as if he wasn’t in a rush to say what he wished before the recipients focus had been drawn elsewhere. 

You had waited patiently, and you’d replied with such care that he felt taken aback that you’d actually remembered most of his monologue. Since then, Bob had barely gone a day without speaking to you. It didn’t matter much what time of day it was, or how long you spoke, or how. Through the phone, via FaceTime or in person, Bob just needed to hear your sweet voice. Needed you like the air he breathed.

It had been that way ever since you met, and you had helped him when he needed it the most. Just before he had managed to make his drinking an unsalvageable problem, you had reminded him that he was valuable without the confidence that beverages lended him.

With you he never felt the need to put on any bravado or show. He had barely touched a drop of alcohol since his nineteenth birthday, and he never felt the urge to start up again. Bob had figured out that people could find him interesting and worthwhile without having the aid of alcohol to loosen his tongue and inhibit his sagacity.

‘whatever this world can give to me, it’s you - you’re all i see’

The world had undoubtedly thrown a few wrenches in Bob’s path. Growing up he’d suffered a lot at the hands of his peers, not really knowing why they felt the need to pick on him in particular. In his mind he didn’t stand out much.

Sure, he might be a bit clumsy sometimes, and he had been a little thinner and ganglier than his fellow classmates - but as he grew that had changed. Now he had defined abs and biceps, and still he didn’t feel entirely comfortable flaunting them on the beach. He preferred to keep a shirt on on the rare occasion he’d make it to the beach, something he knew you didn’t like - but something you didn’t ever push.

Bob was fairly certain most of the people that used to make fun of him had no idea that he was quite sharp, and he was not entirely sure that if he were to explain the intricacies he attended to in the aft seat of the F/A-18F he was usually assigned to, they would most likely come up blank for a response.

Robert was fairly certain anyone could wake him up in the middle of the night and ask him to man the AESA or ATFLIR system and he’d do it half asleep. The only one he’d tried to explain what he did in detail to was you, and only because you had asked and seemed genuinely intrigued - not even his father seemed particularly interested in knowing the heavy weaponry his son was responsible for when Bob tried to talk about it to him when he’d just joined the Navy.

Through any of the hardships Bob went through though, he always had you. You were always just a phone call away, even though Bob preferred to see you in front of him. Robert would never really call himself a liar, he tried his best to always say what was on his mind, no matter the outcome, but he undoubtedly was a liar.

Horribly enough, he was lying to you. And for some time he had definitely lied to himself. He’d almost told you after his situation with Phoenix, that first time he’d have to eject out of a spiraling Super Hornet at such speeds it made him dizzy to think that he’d actually survived. 

He had called you from his hospital bed, voice shaking slightly as he reassured you that he was alright - having to bite the insides of his cheeks to keep from sniffling as he heard your teary voice blubbering how worried you’d been when you had gotten the call that his plane had gone down during a training exercise.

He had made you his emergency contact several years ago at that point. And perhaps your soft sobs was what made him keep his confession close to his chest for just a while longer. If you didn’t know, and he didn’t make it home during the upcoming mission - at least you might not suffer too much from the loss of him. Better to lose a best friend than a lover right? That’s what Bob reasoned. 

‘whenever this world is cruel to me… i got you to help me forgive’

As Phoenix put the Super Hornet down hard on the deck, Bob shook slightly as he swiftly went through his checklist. He was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, and wave after wave of nausea kept hitting him sporadically. He needed to get out of the jet. He needed to breathe fresh air, and most of all - he needed you. Hurrying down the steps, Bob ran as fast as his legs would carry him to the side of the huge ship, emptying the contents of his stomach into the vastness of the ocean below. They had lost Mav. They had lost Rooster. 

What if it had been him and Nat? It just as easily could’ve been. His legs were shaking as the adrenaline from the mission they had just gone through started waning. God, why had he gotten close to any of these people? He knew he had gotten too familiar with all of them after that god damned game day on the beach - he’d told you happily about being perched on Bradley’s shoulders, and you’d laughed and congratulated him on a good game. 

The memory sent another wave of nausea through him and he retched again as warm blood dripped down over his cupid's bow. Just as he was about to rush up to the nearest admiral around and get on his knees to beg them to let him call you, Phoenix showed up at his side, her dainty hand - that had just guided them to safety - landing on his shoulder. Not caring in the slightest, Bob quickly wiped his mouth and nose on his sleeve before roughly pulling her into a bone-crushing embrace, her soft words of reassurances falling on deaf ears. 

“Thank you, Nat. For getting me back.” Bob had, since he had met Natasha, known she would do everything in her power to make sure he made it back, with or without Maverick’s ‘funeral talks’. He watched his pilot clench her jaw, eyes turning misty as she looked up at him and nodded. 

“Likewise,” she said, patting his shoulder again before releasing him swiftly as they both noticed Hangman’s F/A-18E launch off the ship. Nat’s brows were furrowed, and Bob accompanied her as they made their way back towards the others. Fanboy took one look at Bob before offering him a pained look and a baby wipe - Bob knew that Mickey sometimes still threw up after flights, and had them on him at all times just in case. 

“You okay, man?” Fanboy spoke softly to the other wizzo, patting Bob’s back as the taller man thanked him and wiped at his nose and mouth. Bob shook his head somberly, wanting to be anywhere else than where he was right now. With a clarity he hadn’t known in a while, he realized that he craved you. Craved your voice, your touch, your embrace. He needed you.

‘you’re the first one when things turn out bad’

If he had been able to teleport himself to your doorstep right now he’d press you so close to his chest, he’d breathe in your scent, he’d let his lips descend upon yours only to let them never leave their new found home, securely against yours. He’d carry you to bed, and he’d use any excuse to keep you snuggled into his side for days and days. 

As it was, he had no choice but to stay where he was. Perhaps it was best that he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have known that both Mav and Rooster had made it back alive, if barely. Laying down to sleep that night as the waves rocked the ship, he had never felt so exhausted mentally and physically in his life. It felt as if his very essence had been changed through the emotions and experiences he had had during this day. He couldn’t wait to be home. Home with you.

Bob had decided the second the Super Hornet had landed that day that he would be selfish. He would tell you about the feelings he’d harbored for you for years now. It was better than dying and you never even knowing. Never knowing that you were the only one for him, that you were his sunshine, his very reason for breathing. 

‘i’m happy, happy at home’

What Bob hadn’t counted on as he finally was able to make his way towards where people were usually gathered to greet their loved ones, was that you were there. He never had anyone waiting for him, because you lived some ways away, and the rest of his family were all the way over in Montana. Perhaps that’s why he needed to be nudged in the side by Phoenix, the one whom he’d spent the most time showing pictures of you to, before he made out your calls of ‘Robby!’.

His mouth fell open in shock as he saw you sprinting towards him, dropping his duffel bag just in time to be able to catch you in his arms as you barreled into his tall frame. He only had to take a small step back to steady himself, before his arm squeezed hard at your waist and his other cradled the back of your head as he felt you nuzzle into his chest.

He could hardly make out your muffled words, but it did sound an awful lot like his name being repeated over and over again in relief. Relief flooded him too as he took in a shaky breath, overcome by the familiar scent you brought with you. Tears clouded his vision as he pulled you in closer, standing to his full height for a moment, letting your converse clad feet lift off of the pavement.

As the two of you pulled away from one another, he could see tears streaming down your cheeks, and his brows furrowed as he cradled your face between his large palms. 

“Sunshine…” Bob breathed out, a lopsided smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You offered him a teary smile in return. Thumbs soothed over your tear stained cheeks, and Bob took this moment of silence to look you over.

He noticed that in your haste to make it over to him, one of your shoelaces had fallen out of the neat bow you’d no doubt hastily thrown together before leaving to see him. How you’d gotten the information he wasn’t sure, he hadn’t been able to tell you before he left when he’d be back. He figured Phoenix might have something to do with it though. He wondered what she’d told you.

Releasing the hold he had of your face, Robert slowly fell down to kneel by your feet, slowly taking the laces between his nimble fingers, tugging softly to make sure they were tight enough before tying another knot, this time a double bow, to make sure they didn’t fall apart again.

He playfully tugged at the top of the shoe, before he gazed up at you. The expression on your face had his breath leaving his lungs suddenly, and his lips parted in surprise. That look of adoration on your face was so beautiful to him, and to have it directed at him… it was overwhelming. 

“Take me home?” you whispered once he had stood to his full height again, and he wasn’t entirely sure what you meant. He had rented a small flat whilst he was going to be stationed here, so he figured that was home for him right now. Maybe home was wherever you were. Maybe you felt the same. He hoped you did. Bob only nodded before confidently grasping your smaller hand in his, lacing his fingers with yours as you steered him towards your car. 

The ride back to Bob’s rented flat was mostly silent, except for his soft spoken directions. He had yet to let go of your hand, thankful for your automatic car. His thumb stroked over your knuckles, maybe more to soothe himself than you. He felt like he needed to feel your skin against his own, make sure you were real. Make sure he was real too. 

Getting out of the car, Bob swiftly moved to open your door, his hands on your waist the moment you stood up.

“Robby,” you whispered, emotions unknown lacing your tone. Bob couldn’t do this here. Not on the driveway. He ushered you to the door, unlocking it and steering you inside without uttering a word.

“You’re my best friend,”

Bob spoke slowly, letting his cerulean eyes map out your face, every single familiar feature a thing of beauty. Heaving a deep sigh, he again let his palm rest against your cheek as you gazed up at him, that look of adoration still present.

“I love you, sunny,” Bob confessed, his voice breaking at the end of his sentence, overcome by the fact that he might not have made it home to tell you that. You licked your lips as more tears fell from your eyes.

“Phoenix told me you almost didn’t make it home to me,” you replied shakily. He averted his gaze, but you stepped closer, your chest now resting against his own. It forced him to look down at you again, god, you were so close. 

“How could you have left me without telling me that beforehand? I’ve–” you trailed off, a sob shaking you softly. Bob furrowed his brows, letting his arms wound around you to hold you steady against him. 

“I’ve loved you my whole life… ever since I first heard you speak, I’ve loved you,” you cried “as more than a friend. I’ve wanted to be yours for so long, Robby,” Bob groaned, pulling you into a tight embrace, tucking your face into the crook of his neck as his lips found the top of your head.

“Sunny… you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And I’ve always been yours. I’m sorry–” his voice broke again “I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you. I never in a million years figured I’d be good enough for you,” his voice was raw with emotion, a raspy and deep quality to it that had you momentarily dizzy.

You thought you had heard every iteration of Robert’s voice that there was. Sleepy Robby, angry Robby, sweet Robby, sad Robby… nothing compared to this. Nothing. 

“You stupid, stupid man,” you chastised him, a teary laugh falling from your lips as you broke free from his embrace. Bob had the decency to look bashful as he chuckled, thumb stroking over your cheek again. Your own hand raised, fingertips ghosting over his cheeks, the harsh feel of his stubble unusual for you. Your exploration continued slowly, before your thumb graced Bob’s lower lip, hearing his breath stutter in his throat. 

“Kiss me, Robby,” you spoke softly, glancing up at those cerulean eyes you loved so much. The groan that left Bob was otherworldly to you as he cupped your face in between his palms, his warm lips descending upon yours as your eyes fluttered closed.

Bob could swear he’d never felt anything like it as his lips were met with your warm and plump ones, moving so slowly and deliciously against his own, small sighs making him a little crazy. He couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You felt like home. Hesitantly, Bob let his tongue wet your bottom lip, and the way you let him deepen the kiss had another groan leaving his lips as your tongue met his slowly. 

“I never want to leave you again,” Bob leaned his forehead against yours as his eyelids squeezed shut. 

“Then don’t,” you let a soft giggle escape from you. Bob only smiled, before he bent down, letting his hands rest on the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you into his arms. 

“I need snuggles and I need them now,” he simply said as he walked you into his bedroom, carefully helping remove your shoes before he planted you in the middle of the comfortable bed. Removing his own shoes, Bob stripped out of his khaki uniform, leaving him in only his boxers - something you had certainly seen before, but something beautiful nonetheless.

He moved to climb onto the bed with you, but you held up your palm, stopping him momentarily as you wiggled out of your jeans and your top - needing to feel Bob’s skin against yours. 

Bob offered you the softest of smiles before he laid down beside you, keeping a small distance between your bodies, not wanting to make the first move at touching you. Rolling your eyes, you muttered “silly man” before promptly draping your thigh over his, letting your stomach and chest snuggle close into his warm skin, your head resting against his neck. 

“Thank God,” Bob sighed, kissing your forehead as his strong arms wrapped around your midsection, his fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin. The same fingers that only hours ago had frantically manned the countermeasures and systems needed to get out safely. Bob squeezed his eyes shut before he took a shuddering deep breath.

“Hey, you’re here with me, Robby,” you spoke softly, resting your chin against his chest. “You’re here and you’re mine and I love you so much,” you continued, your fingers raking through his neat hair. He managed a smile, and his body relaxed against yours as he mirrored your movements.

“I’m here… and I’m yours, and I love you,” he repeated slowly, leaning against his forearm as he reached to kiss you again, one hand resting comfortably at the back of your head as his lips moved with yours. He felt your lips turn upwards into a soft smile against his own, and when you broke away from him, he let out a relieved sigh as he fell back against the pillows, eyes closed.

He smiled as he felt you climb on top of him, curling up on his chest, your head resting comfortably on his sternum, your thighs encompassing his hips. His palm softly stroked up and down your spine, and he swore he could almost hear you purring like a cat at his touch. 

Soft kisses were shared between whispered words of comfort and love, and Bob had never thought he could be this lucky, to have his best friend dozing off against his chest, her kisses and her love soothing his rattled soul.  

‘oh, you’re my best friend’

[call-sign-shark]

✨Angel in Distress✨

Summary: Hangman always takes care of you, but what happens when he discovers that you’re pregnant? Bonus: Bob AGAIIIIIN.

(Part 1: Angel in Disguise || Part 3: Angel in Panic)

Words: 1,5k

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, mention of unprotected sex, funny, extreme fluff

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════ ⋆★⋆ ════

A second red line appeared on the pregnancy test you held between your hands.

Your heart skipped a beat at such a sight. It all started with Phoenix and you sitting on the warm sand of the beach, discussing boys. While not mentioning Hangman, you told her you had a friend with benefits and that, caught in the middle of the heat,  both of you often forgot about condoms but you were taking the pill, so you never worried about getting pregnant. Even though Phoenix laughed and teased you, she still warned you: birth controls, especially low-dose ones, are not 100% effective. All it took was forgetting it a few times. Her words felt like a punch in the guts. Admittedly you had not been consistent with your birth control lately, for the Uranium mission and Mav’s difficult trainings occupied all your thoughts. By the end of the day, you frequently released the stress with Hangman through steamy intercourses, then you took your shower and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Natasha had barely left when you rushed to the local drugstore to buy two pregnancy tests coming from two different brands, which both turned out positive.

“I’m fucked.”  

These were the only words that came from your lips, carried by your shaky breathing.  You, a skilled and dauntless naval aviator who never thought about building a family, were pregnant. Even worse, the one whose seed belonged to was a cocky pilot who did not seem to want a serious and stable relationship. You pressed one of your cold palms against your forehead, eyes wide open in awe as you realized the whole situation. Your child’s father was Jake Hangman Seresin. Your heart pounded so hard in your chest that, at this point, you were pretty sure it was about to burst your ribcage open. Crippling anxiety crept through your body, weighting in your chest, and forming a ball of sobs in your throat. 

“Are you okay?” You heard Jake’s voice through the bathroom’s door.

Silence. 

The tall pilot frowned, a hint of worry glimmering in his beautiful green eyes. He waited one full minute before grabbing the handle and opening the door. His gaze caught sight of your trembling frame, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Back bent, teary eyes set on a pregnancy test you were holding between your hands, you remained petrified.

“Hey babe, what happens?” He asked, quietly. Jake did not see the pregnancy test yet, so for a moment he thought he did something bad. 

“This,” you answered in a calm yet cold voice, “This,” you repeated, showing him the positive pregnancy test. It did not take more than a few seconds for Jake to understand the whole situation. Millions of thoughts rushed to his brain, fogging his mind with fear, anxiety, surprise, and confusion. Paralyzed by the crushing news, all he could do was stand there, mouth open like an idiot. The confident and arrogant Hangman had been replaced by a stupid-looking scarecrow. To be true, you would have laughed your arse off if you were not the one pregnant. 

“You don’t want this, do you?” You said softly, your sweet voice candy-coated with undeniable sadness.  The pregnancy test fell from your hands, for you released it gently on the ground. Jake did not answer, he was unable to do so. The cocky pilot is still staring at you, his green emerald eyes observing each delicate feature of your face as if he expected to find a solution hidden in them. His silence broke your heart - what were you expecting? You were not officially together. Gosh, he did not even love you.

“Yeah, you’re totally ecstatic” You spat sarcasm as a snake spitting poison, “Nevermind, do what you do the best and leave me hanging.”  This time you had to turn your head to the side, unable to keep yourself from crying anymore. Crystal tears started to overflow from your eyes, forming wild rivers on your cheeks.

How could you be so beautiful, even when you were crying? Hangman shook his head, coming back to his senses.

“Listen-”

“Serves me right to love the adrenaline of fucking you! Now I’m fucking pregnant, you’re going to leave and I’ll have to stop flying in my jet  for at least 9 freaking months!” You started sobbing, hugging yourself in your cold arms. Usually, you made a point of honor not to show any weakness to Hangman, but it was all too much to handle. “I’m so scared…” You whispered to yourself, almost forgetting Jake’s presence. Somehow, your unconscious already did not rely on him to help you.

Jake gathered all his remaining strength, overcoming his own anxiety, and walked towards you. He placed himself between your legs and fell on his knees. His two large and warm hands gently laid on your thighs, massaging their inner parts with his thumbs. 

“Then we can be scared together.” 

You stopped crying, awestruck by what he just said. Yet, you probably misheard him. Confused, your glimmering eyes looked at him. Jake’s heart melt when your mesmerizing gaze met his: a faint but oh-so-sincere smile stretched his thin lips as he enjoyed the magnificent sight of your face.  Your eyes tearing, your sad pout, you looked like an angel someone just hurt. The pilot took a deep breath. From the moment he carried you to bed, kissing your lips in that dark corridor, Jake knew he was fucked. He, who had never fallen in love, was smitten. Smitten with the fearless yet vulnerable pilot you were. And this time, he did not want to fuck it all up.

“I know what you think about me, and I can’t blame you. Hell, I would have probably run away if it had not been you - and I’m not proud of that. But - “ He paused, taking another deep breath in an attempt to organize his thoughts and feelings “ I’ll hold your hand. No matter what happens to us in this life, I’ll be always there to hold your hand.” 

“But you don’t love me. You keep telling me we’re just having fun, no strings attached.” You shook your head. “Why would-”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Jake cut you in the middle of your sentence, only to gently cup your adorable face with his hands. His emerald eyes dove into yours, probing your very soul, “Did you ever wonder how you would wake up cozy in your bed after falling asleep in the meeting room?  Did you wonder why your fridge never runs out of your favorite drink?” His voice is a bit strict, even though his tone is still coated with tenderness, “Never wondered how there’s always a bucket, a bottle of water, and ibuprofen on your nightstand after you wasted yourself at the Hard Deck?” 

“Jake.” You blinked several times.

“I am anxious each time I lost sight of your plane during training and missions. I get fucking jealous every time a dude tries to hit on you” He laughed nervously, shaking his head. Jake’s thumbs gently rubbed your cheeks, “So don’t ever tell me I don’t love you,” 

Your heart sunk at his words and your mind gave up all anger at the mere sight of Hangman’s perfect smile. You sniffed, nose a bit runny because of your sobs, and Jake found you even more charming. Unable to proceed properly with what he just said, your tongue reacted quicker than your brain.

“All I want to do is punch you in the face but I love you so much so I don’t mean it.” You pouted, freeing your face from his hands like a sulking kid. Jake could not help but laugh. A hearty laugh, “Fuck, we’re going to have a baby… Got a baby Seresin in my belly…” You whispered, still not believing it, “ What are we going to do now, Jake?” 

“I’m going to tell you what we’re going to do.” Jake stood up, his soothing smile turning into his casual cocky, and flat-lipped grin, the kind of grin that made you want to slap his face but also made you want to spread your legs, “Come here!” Without the slightest warning, the blonde pilot carried you bride-style.

“Uh? What the hell Jake?!” You shout, surprised by being suddenly lifted from the edge of the bathtub you were sitting on.

“Well, I’m going to put you in your bed and cover you with warm, cozy blankets. Then, I’m going to buy a huge cup of ice cream we’re going to eat in front of your favorite movie. Disney included. The only exceptions are musicals.” He said, kicking the bathroom door open and laying your body on the comfortable mattress with indescribable tenderness, “Got it?”

“Got it.” You answered with a slight small, your heart beating hard.

Jake winked at you and left the bedroom. Admittedly, he was terrified. He had never thought about having a baby, and here he was, ready to buy ice cream for his pregnant girlfriend. Hell, he was afraid, but he could not deny the sparkle of joy he felt within. He had always been a family man.

As long as you were beside him, he knew everything would be fine. 

He closed the bedroom door, turned around, and jumped at the sudden apparition of Bob behind him.

“WHAT THE FUCK MAN! I’m really going to put a damn bell around your neck!” He grumbled, pressing one hand against his pounding heart. “How come you always appear in that damn dark hallway, out of no-fucking-where?” 

“Told ya, I snack at night.”  The tall WSO said, readjusting his glasses on his nose awkwardly. He stared at Jake for a while, silently.

“What’s your problem, Floyd?” Jake asked, slightly embarrassed. 

“You should buy strawberries alongside ice cream. And chocolate. A lot of chocolate. My Aunt would not stop eating chocolate when she was pregnant.” 

Jake opened his mouth, struck with surprise. He looked at Bob as if he was some kind of wizard. How the hell did he know that? Bob was starting to scare the hell out of him.

Witnessing the stupefied look on Hangman’s face, the WSO shrugged and opened his own bedroom door. Yet, he took a quick last glance at Jake.

“By the way… Don’t fuck it up, Bagman. She needs you.” He said, before disappearing into his room. 

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

2 prompts used from @marvelhead17's pregnancy prompts

[geoledgy]

Today is International Geologist Day! Go tell a geologist you appreciate their work! Also, here’s a series of geology themed illustrations I made of TB and Mona that I wanna share for today.

[fandomxpreferences]

Hush Little Baby

Pairing: Jake seresin x female!reader

TW:none that I can think of, maybe slight angst?

Summary: Jake comes home from the Uranium mission to a big surprise. (Based on this request)

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: This is short and not my best work, but I hope I did it justice. Also tell me this baby doesn’t have glens eyes I dare you.

Every second of the trip back from the mission feels like a single leg hair being plucked as Jake anxiously waits to get back to you. He's been gone for a month now with no contact. His leg bounces impatiently as the plane lands and he nearly tramples over people as he tries to get off the plane. 

He rushes down the stairs and onto the tarmac, scanning the large crowd of people for your face. You're 39 weeks pregnant now, ready to pop at any given second. He had cried for three days before leaving you, devastated he would be missing the last month of your pregnancy. 

He was so hands-on from the second he found out about his daughter, over the moon at becoming a father. He held your hair back when you got sick, rubbed your back and feet every night, and went out late at night to get you your most recent craving without a single complaint. 

His face falls when he doesn't see you, but figures you must be somewhere near the back. His heart drops with every moment that drags by as the tarmac clears out. He stays until Bradley is the only one left, and realizes that you're not here. 

"Where's Y/N?" Bradley asks and Jake glances over at him. "I don't know, she was supposed to pick me up." He answers, sadness and worry lacing his voice. 

Bradley frowns and claps Jake on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll take you home." He offers and Jake reluctantly agrees. The ride to your shared home is silent and Jake practically falls out of the bronco when it comes to a stop. 

He shoots Bradley a quick thank you and races toward the front door. It's unlocked and he bursts inside, scared that something is wrong. In almost ten years of being together, you have never once missed a homecoming. 

The house is silent and he frowns when he hears a soft humming floating from the back of the house. He kicks his boots off and puts them away before following the sound. It's coming from the nursery and he slowly peaks his head inside. 

The sight before him makes his heart stop and tears instantly prick his eyes. You're rocking a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. He sends up a silent prayer that somehow that's someone else's child and knocks softly. 

You look up at him and a soft smile graces your features. He's never seen you look so tender and he takes a deep breath. He watches as you stand slowly and make your way over to him. 

The second he sees the emerald green eyes peering back at him he knows. A single tear falls down his cheek and you adjust carefully to reach up and wipe it away. 

"Jake," You whisper, and his breathing halts. "Meet your daughter, Aurora. Rory for short." 

He shakes his head and tries to process what's happening. Not only did he not get to see his first child be born, but he didn't even know.

"When?" He breathes and you give him a sympathetic smile. "A week ago today."

His eyes are glued to the little girl, completely entranced. She has your nose and mouth, but his green eyes and blonde hair. She's a perfect picture of the two of you. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He cries and you shake your head. 

"It's okay, Jake. You came home to us, that's all that matters." You comfort him and he gives a small nod.

"Do you want to hold her?" You ask and he gulps. "More than anything." 

You gently hand her to him and he takes her in his arms, cradling her like she'll shatter if he breathes wrong. 

"Hi, little one. I'm your daddy." He sniffles quietly and your heart melts. He glances back up at you with a watery smile and you give him an encouraging nod. 

He bounces from side to side and traces a finger down her face, feeling her soft skin. "She's perfect." He declares and you smile down at your daughter. 

"She really is." You agree and Jake can't take his eyes off of her. 

She's staring right back at him, fascination swimming in her eyes, and Jake's entire world comes to a screeching halt. She coos and reaches a tiny hand up to grab his pinky, and his knees almost give out. 

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" He asks and you nod your head. 

"I'm fine. The labor and delivery were actually pretty short and I was only in the hospital for a day. All of the wives have been popping in and out to check on me, it's been nice." You explain but it doesn't do much to soothe the ache in his heart. 

"I hate that you went through that alone." He whimpers and you shake your head. 

"I wasn't alone. Penny was there for the entire thing. That woman is a saint." You tell him and that does help the sting of the situation a bit. 

"How big is she?" He asks and you grin. 

"She was 8 pounds 9 ounces and 21 inches long. Born at 3:05 am, perfectly healthy." You inform him and he nods. 

He notices Rory start to doze off and you nod toward the bassinet. He sets her down carefully, and the two of you sneak out of the room. 

The second you're in the hallway, Jake has you wrapped in his arms. 

"I love you so much. You did so good." He praises and you nuzzle into his neck. 

"I love you too. I'm sorry that you didn't know. We tried everything to notify your superiors but with Ice gone, it didn't do much good." You tell him sadly and he kisses the side of your head. 

"You don't need to apologize, sweets. The fact that you even tried when you were in pain like that means the world." He murmurs and you kiss the side of his neck. 

"Can you believe we're parents?" You ask quietly and he chuckles. "Well I just found out five minutes ago, so no not really." He teases and you slap his shoulder. You know he's using humor as a defense mechanism. 

He sniffles again and squeezes you tighter. "I'll make it up to you, I promise. Anything you want." He offers and you look up at him. 

"I already have everything I want right here." You whisper and he leans down to kiss you. 

"I love you." He murmurs and you peck him again. "I love you too."

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Fight Through the Pain (Part 1)

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader

Word Count: 1335

TW: Angst, Whump, Plane Crash, Burns, Injuries, Pain, Love Confession

Spoilers for Top Gun: Maverick

Part 1, Part 2

Top Gun Masterlist

Everything hurt. Your world was currently nothing more than pain on top of more pain as every bone, every muscle, every molecule in your body screamed out. Large sections of your skin felt as if it was on fire while other parts felt like it was frozen solid. As you tried shifting slightly, a low moan reverberated in your chest as the pain intensified. But the attempt did provide you with some information. It made you realize that the coldness seeping into you was from the snow you were laying on. But why were you laying in the snow?

And then it came rushing back to you. The team had been sent on their mission to blow up the uranium enrichment plant. At the last minute, it was decided one additional single-person plane should accompany the group, and much to Hangman’s chagrin, you had been selected. As everyone was saying their goodbyes and good lucks, Rooster had pulled you into a hug that was tighter and lasted longer than you expected. And when you finally pulled away, he had stared at you with such an intense look on his face that it sent shivers down your spine in the best way. It finally gave you the courage you had been needing to tell him how you felt about him, yet just as you opened your mouth, Maverick had interrupted you. So instead of telling him, you had hurried off to your plane.

The mission had gone perfectly…. Up until your planes escaped Coffin Corner and activated the SAMs. The Surface-to-Air Missiles had quickly filled the sky and as much as you all tried to react, there were just too many of them. As you had done your own evasive maneuvers to avoid disaster, you watched Rooster fire countermeasure after countermeasure from his position above you, narrowly escaping the missiles. But then his panicked voice cried out through your coms that he was out of flares, and you watched in horror as two more missiles trailed behind him.

You hadn’t thought, you had just acted. Instantly pulling up into a steep climb, you positioned your plane directly between Rooster’s and the missiles. Across the expanse between you, you had managed to catch Rooster’s eye for just a moment. His face drained of all color, and you saw him shouting at you to get out of the way. But you had just given him a sad smile as the missile slammed into the tail of your aircraft, sending a fireball roaring through the cockpit.

You screamed in pain as your hand had yanked the ejection lever, but it was too late. Even as your seat jettisoned into the sky, you could feel the burns scorching your skin in a dozen different places. Then as you drifted to the ground, your parachute had gotten snagged on a tree, slamming you into the trunk and causing you to plummet the other 50 ft to the ground. As you crashed into the snow below, you had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness.

But now, something stirred you from your sleep, something other than just the pain. Voices. Slowly, you realized that your helmet was still on, and you could still make out your teammates' voices as they tried to reach you on the coms.

“Bumblebee! Do you copy?” Phoenix’s frantic voice came into focus. “Bob, do you see anything?”

“That’s a negative,” her WSO replied, equally as panicked. “I can see the smoke from her plane where it crashed, but I lost sight of the parachute.”

“I saw it for a minute, but it was smoking pretty heavily.” Fanboy chimed in anxiously. “I don’t know…. I don’t know if it would have been able to remain intact until she reached the ground.”

“Bee! Answer me! Please!” Rooster. You struggled to open your eyes at the sound of his voice. Maybe it was the distortion from the coms or your pain-addled brain, but it almost sounded like he was crying. But that couldn’t be….

“Bumblebee!” he screamed again. “Damn it! Why did you do that! Why did you- I’m not worth it. You shouldn’t have done that. Not for me. Please, Bee. You have to be okay.”

“Rooster,” Phoenix said softly. “It’s not your fault. She was just protecting her wingman.”

“Well, she shouldn’t have! It should have been me down there instead of her. We need to find her!”

Maverick’s voice suddenly broke through the chatter. “There’s nothing we can do right now. Without her location beacon turned on, we have no way of finding her. We need to get back to the ship and we can try to figure out something after that. But for now…. I’m sorry.”

“No!” Rooster screamed again. “I’m not leaving her! Bee! Listen, you need to turn on your beacon. Please! I promise I’ll find you, but you have to give me something.”

“Rooster-” Maverick started but the younger pilot cut him off.

“No! She’s still out there, I know it! And she would never leave any of us behind! So, please, Bee. Come on, you can do this. Just turn on the beacon.”

Both of your hands were currently laying by your sides and the locator beacon was on your shoulder. The amount of pain that was shooting through your body just with every breath was almost unbearable, so the thought of trying to move, to cross that impossible distance to reach the beacon, was almost inconceivable! But you knew you had to try. If not for you, for Rooster. You might have saved his life, but if you died, you knew he would blame himself and it would haunt him for the rest of his days.

So, ever so slowly, inch by agonizing inch, your hand began its vast journey up towards your shoulder. Even the smallest of movements was torture, and you were fairly certain that your arm was broken in at least one place. But Rooster’s pleas and cries still sounding through the coms urged you on.

When your fingers miraculously brushed against the dial of your beacon, you realized you were in for a new level of pain. In order to turn the beacon on, you had to twist the dial. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem but because of the fire, your fingers were pretty badly burnt, and your joints were swollen. It was going to take everything in you to turn that dial and you just didn’t think you had the strength left to withstand that level of pain.

But then, Rooster’s voice called out to you one more time, calmer yet more tender than before, “Bumblebee…. Please. I know you’re there, I know you can hear me. Please, come back to me. I-I love you.”

He loves me? You had been in love with your wingman for years, starting back when you had first been at Top Gun together, but you never thought he could return your feelings. It was why you had chickened out on the tarmac from confessing how you felt. But if Rooster loved you back….

It was just the motivation you needed. Taking a few deep breaths (and ignoring the spikes of pain that were sent through your chest with each one), you screwed your eyes closed and twisted the dial.

The surge of pain that followed traveled down to your very bones. Every nerve ending and muscle in your fingers and up through your arm screamed out in agony, but you heard a faint beep as the beacon activated. At the sound of your success, you allowed yourself to drop your arm once more as the pain became too much for you to bear.

As your world started to grow dark around you, you could faintly hear a voice that sounded like it was coming from the end of a far-off tunnel, “Bee?! Guys, I have her signal! Bee, just hang on. I’m coming for you, baby.”

And just as you slipped back into unconsciousness, you managed to whisper a single word, “Rooster…..”

[ddejavvu]

For multiverse Monday

Doctor bradley Bradshaw dating single mom teacher reader andits being rooster first time meet her daughter being super shy and when she meets him " i wike your moustache " while hiding between readers legs maybe

sorry honey i couldn't really think of a good scenario where he would be a doctor and she would be a teacher and they'd connect while also meeting her daughter so i took out the doctor part! this isn't an au anymore, it's reader being an instructor at top gun and having a young daughter. i hope you're not too disappointed! also i know rooster would not have been in a class with the dagger squad during his time at top gun and that most of them only met for the uranium mission but fuck canon actually they're all school friends in a little group <3

--

"For the most part, I thought your simulations were done well. Many of you made rational decisions while considering both your safety and your plane's, and it showed. Some of you-" You try not to look at Hangman even though everyone else already is, "Were more... daring in your hypothetical plans. But that's something we'll discuss privately, when I come around to work through them with you."

Jake's smirk doesn't fall despite the relentless jabs he gets from everyone sitting within his range. You avoid speaking to him first, choosing to target Fanboy instead, who performed fantastically in his work.

There isn't much to go over with him, a play-by-play of his simulation that you agree with wholeheartedly. You only give him one pointer, and it's that he could be a little less cautious if he wanted to be. But you're moving onto his seatmate next, your back turned towards Rooster as you crouch over Payback's desk.

There's similarly minimal work to be done on Payback's simulation. He'd clearly done the assignment thoughtfully, and you're sure to give him a glowing review. When you step up to the side of Rooster's desk there's a lingering smile on your face, that he glances up at and returns with one of his own.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," You nod, your voice kind, "Your work was done well. I do have a few pointers, though, if you'd let me nitpick?"

"'Thought you would," He admits, chuckling sheepishly, "It's hard to simulate something so unpredictable."

"I know what you mean," You nod vigorously, missing the sound of the door creaking open, as well as the silence that falls around the classroom from your other students, "There weren't any major problems, I just wanted to offer you some advice. I think you could change the way that you operate here," You tap your pen against the printed frame of his simulation, showcasing a maneuver he could have taken, but didn't. The second time your pen hits the page you feel something thud against your legs, and your hands brace themselves urgently on Bradley's desk to stop yourself from falling forwards into him.

"Oh!" You crane your neck backwards to see what had rammed into you, seeing the wispy-haired, pigtailed-head of your daughter.

"Oh, Lizzie," You breathe, laughing bashfully as a few coos are heard around the room. You sneak your hands beneath her arms, hauling her up off of the ground and onto your hip, "You are not supposed to be here, you know that. What happened to your group?"

"We walked by your door." Elizabeth mumbles into your neck, her tiny voice muffled nearly silent, "And I heard you talking. And I heard Phoenix, and I wanted to say hi."

Natasha gives her a sneaky wave from her seat beside the door.

"Lizzie, you're supposed to stay with the group," You try not to chide her, keeping your voice sweet as she flops herself lifeless over your shoulder, "They're going to be worried when they can't find you."

"I'll catch 'em and let 'em know," Bob offers, rising from his seat cautiously, "Probably on their way to the rec room?"

You pinch Elizabeth's side to get her to answer; she nods once into your shoulder.

You flash Bob a thankful thumbs-up as he rushes to catch Liz's daycare group, and you make a silent promise to yourself to get her a backpack with a leash on it.

When you turn back to Rooster, he's staring at your little girl. He's got a sweet smile on his face, something that no one seems to be able to withhold when looking at her tiny face. She's peeking right back at him, and you can feel her smile against your neck when he waves.

"Lizzie," He tests her name on his tongue, then glances at you, "Short for Elizabeth?"

"No," Your little girl pipes up, ready with the joke she's been waiting on (courtesy of her wisecracking grandfather) for two years now, "Lizard."

Bradley blinks.

"Lizard?"

You can't help but laugh, stifling the sound by biting your lip. He looks bewilderedly between the two of you, two giggly girls, wondering if he's crazy for mishearing something, or if you're crazy for naming your daughter after a reptile.

"It's Elizabeth," You confirm, "Her grandpa has a flair for bad jokes."

"Oh," Rooster breathes, face crumpling into half mortification and half relief, "I see."

"She steals all of his favorite ones," You lament, setting her on the floor only for her to smush herself between your legs and keep her face hidden behind your left thigh, "I think one day she's going to tell me she's 'trying to quit' when I offer her a juice box."

He snorts, "That's a good one."

A moment of silence passes between you, but it's not awkward, it's fond. You're almost ready to get back to your review of his performance, but Lizzie ducks beneath the desk to crouch by Bradley's feet. He cranes his head down to look at her, eyes questioning but kind.

"You have a plane in your pocket," She observes, poking at his F-14 keychain, "I sawed those at the gift shop once."

His face quirks into a smile at her grammar, and he tugs the keys out of his pocket so that she can fiddle with the plane.

"My dad gave it to me when I was your age," He tells her, "That's what he flew in."

"Your dad was a pilot, too?" Lizzie squints up at him, face scrunched.

"No, he sat behind the pilot. He didn't feel like driving."

Bradley's jokes seem to go over well with Lizzie, something that makes your heart flutter. She giggles at, her toothy grin on display, "You don't drive a plane, you fly it."

He chuckles, but he doesn't have time to offer her a proper response before she speaks again, still squinting up at him.

"I like your mustache," She blurts, and you're just glad she doesn't reach up to poke it, "It looks like my grandpa's."

"Less grey, though," You reach down to ruffle her hair, giving Rooster an amused smile when he bites his tongue to stop from laughing.

"Wanna know something?" He raises his brows, leaning in like he's telling Lizzie the nuclear codes.

She leans forwards, just as eager.

"My dad gave that to me, too. He just-" Rooster reaches up to tug at one end of his mustache, "-ripped it off of his face and-" He slaps a hand over his mouth, "-put it on me."

Elizabeth roars with giggles, squealing at the image. Bradley digs in his pocket, the one that hadn't held his keys, and comes out with a creased, yellowed picture from his wallet.

"See?" He holds it out to Liz, showing off a man that's undeniably his father, and a bleach blonde child you can't believe is him, "There he is, that's before he took it off and gave it to me. Can you tell it's the same one?"

"No!" She shakes her head, wobbling to her feet and reaching out. He doesn't back away, but your stomach churns awkwardly at her naive forwardness when she pokes at his lip, "Yours is more higher."

"Lizzie," You rush to grab her arm, but Rooster shoots you a soft smile.

"It's okay," He assures you, voice calm, smooth, and adoring, something that only worsens your pounding heart, "She's fine. I think she's right," He sighs, looking back at the photo, "Maybe he shaved it down before he gave it to me."

Lizzie doesn't have time to ponder the possibilities of The Bradshaw Mustache Transfer before the door creaks open again, Bob's hand bracing it open as a caregiver peers inside cautiously.

Her shoulders slump when she sees Elizabeth and she looks equal parts horrified and delighted at the sight of the unscathed little girl, "Miss Y/L/N, I am so sorry, I didn't-"

"She's an escape artist." You wave away the woman's apologies, "Don't worry about it. Even I can't keep track of her. Go on, Lizzie," You steer her away from Rooster, and you only sigh a little bit when she skips over to hug Natasha first, "And no more running off!"

She's not the one that promises you, her caregiver is. It's not reassuring.

"Anyways, I'm sorry about that," You're not sure if you mean for the general disruption, or for your daughter sticking her fingers around Bradley's mouth, but it's curved into a grin when you turn back to him, so you're sure he doesn't mind.

"It's alright," He promises, "She's cute."

"You're good with kids," You muse offhandedly, ducking down once more to peer at his papers.

"I want a few someday," He admits, righting himself in his chair and tucking the photo of his father away, "I guess this is practice."

"You'll be a fantastic father," You gleam, trying to ignore the familiar heart-flutter when his hand brushes against yours reaching for his pen, "And I'm sure your son will love to carry on the tradition of the Mustache Transfer."

[topgun-imagines]

For My Daughter

Requested: yes

Summary: When Bradley rushes home from training, Maverick follows him and discovers something he never would have guessed. Bradley has a daughter.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Crying baby, mentions of death, mentions of abandonment by a parent.

Note: Based off the song ‘For My Daughter’ by Kane Brown. This is pretty different than any other story I’ve written. (Not really a reader insert)

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Daughter

The Dagger Squad had finally made their way back to the hangar after a long day of training. Maverick was trailing behind them slightly. The older man watched as Bradley fiddled anxiously with his sunglasses. The pilot was the first one to the hangar, quickly collecting all of his belongings before waiting for their instructor to return. None of the other aviators seemed to notice the way Bradley was about to sprint out of the hangar. He glanced at Maverick, almost pleading with the man to make things quick. He had somewhere that he really needed to be.

As if the older man could sense his desperation, Maverick made his final notes quick and bid the class goodbye. Rooster was quick to leave the room. He rushed to the locker room and changed quickly.

In mere minutes he was in his truck, pulling out of the parking lot and rushing to his house. He made the dive very quick, most likely breaking numerous laws in the process. He pulled into the driveway, jumped from his truck and ran up to the door. The door was already unlocked, meaning all he had to do was yank it open and rush inside. “Amelia?” He frantically called out. His wide eyes glanced around as he moved through the living room.

Moments later he could hear loud cries coming from the kitchen. “In here Rooster,” He entered the room seconds later, looking around until he found Amelia and his daughter. She was seated at the kitchen table, rocking the small baby back and forth to try and soothe her. Bradley cooed softly before moving to take her from the young girl's arms. The baby continued to cry even in her father's arms. “I’m not sure what’s wrong. I’ve tried everything.” Amelia spoke up, gesturing to all of the baby items littered across the table.

Bradley only nodded, gently swaying his daughter to try and get her cries to stop. When they only got louder Bradley sighed. Ever since her mother had walked out a few months ago, Bradley found that his daughter was only growing more and more restless. Some days it seemed that without her mother, his daughter was almost inconsolable. “It’s alright, Amelia. Thank you.” The girl only smiled at him. She moved to collect her belongings and pack them into her bag.

Just as she was finishing packing up, there was a knock on the door. Bradley’s daughter began crying louder. Amelia moved to open it, allowing Bradley to try and comfort his daughter. He could hear the door open and suddenly the house was quiet save for the cries of his daughter. Bradley waited for Amelia to return, half expecting it to be some random door-to-door salesman. However, when he saw Maverick walk into the kitchen with Amelia trailing behind him looking somewhat anxious, he realized he was extremely mistaken.

The young girl smiled at him as she grabbed her bag. Bradley mouthed a thank you one last time before she disappeared from the room. He could hear the door close behind her seconds later. His eyes moved to the man standing in the middle of his kitchen. Maverick’s eyes were focused on the small bundle in Bradley's arms. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted, a look of shock painted across his face.

Bradley cleared his throat, causing Maverick’s eyes to dart up to his. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.” The older man spoke, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the crying baby. The pilot nodded, bouncing his daughter in his arms. Ever since the uranium mission the two of them had been working toward rebuilding their relationship but his daughter was very important to him. He had decided that he was going to wait and tell Maverick when the time was right. It seemed as if the universe had decided that now was the time.

Still standing in the doorway, Maverick watched as Bradley struggled to calm his daughter. He was just about to move to reward when he hesitated. While he wanted to help Bradley calm his little girl, he didn’t want to overstep. “If you want,” The older man started, taking a small step forward. “I can help?” It ended up coming out as more of a question than a statement, Maverick’s hesitancy carrying through his voice. Bradley glanced up at Maverick before nodding slightly.

Maverick took that as his cue to move forward. With the younger pilot's permission, he scooped the little girl from his arms and started rocking her back and forth. Bradley watched as the older man adjusted his daughter in his arms, moving her so that she was in a position to burp her. Groaning, Bradley tipped his head back and stared at the roof. How could he have missed that? In only a few minutes the baby had burped, instantly ending her cries.

Bringing the baby back into a cradled position, Maverick began walking around the kitchen slowly. Bradley led him out of the kitchen and into his bedroom where her crib was set up. Once they were in the room, Maverick set the baby down into her crib and turned on the mobile above her. That instantly seemed to peak her attention, her wide eyes focusing on it as it spun. The both of them watched as her eyes slowly drifted shut, her small lips parting as she finally fell asleep.

They headed downstairs, Maverick trailing after the younger man as they headed back into their kitchen. “Want something to drink?” Bradley questioned. Mav nodded, mentioning something about a water as he sat at the table. The younger pilot returned a few seconds later with two glasses of water. “How did you know to do that?”

Chuckling quietly, Maverick sipped his water before answering. “That’s what we did for you when you were her age,” Bradley sat in stunned silence until Maverick spoke again. “Your dad showed me how to do it one day when you were being particularly fussy.” Mav laughed at the memory. That brought a smile onto Bradley’s face.

They both sat in silence for the next few minutes. That was until Bradley spoke up. “I’m sorry for not telling you about her,” Maverick could only shake his head. He understood why Bradley never said anything. He had seen the stress that Carole had when she was raising Bradley without a father. Now her son was raising his own daughter by himself at a much younger age. He couldn’t imagine how hard it must have been for him. “Really I was. It’s just hard without her mom around.’’

Nodding, Mav took a sip of his water before speaking. “You know kiddo,” He started, drawing Bradley’s attention with just those first few words. “If you need help I’ll always be here for you.” Bradley could only smile. He fought his hardest to not let himself cry, although he found it hard with all the emotions he was feeling. It was nice to hear that his father figure would be there for him and his daughter. He always had fears that he was going to end up just like his father. That he was going to end up dying while on duty, leaving his daughter to grow up without a father. Considering the fact that her mother had walked out on them, Bradley was all that his daughter had left. He had made a promise to her that she would never have to find out what it is like to grow up without a father. A promise that he intended on keeping.

“Thank you for your help today Mav,” Bradley smiled at the older man, finishing off his cup before setting it on the table. “And I’m glad that you’re gonna get to be a part of her life. I’m sure she’s gonna love having her grandpa around.” Now it was Maverick’s turn to try and hold off tears. He could only return the younger man's smile. Bradley was right. He was really looking forward to being a part of her life.

A/n: Thank you all for reading! Feel free to send in any requests.