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reaperintheroses · 2 years

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Kill The Engines

Phoenix x Pilot Reader Word Count: 3.1k Next Part Warnings: Explicit sexual content, swearing, drinking A/N: @clints-lucky-arrow is writing a top gun universe and I think it's time it went multiversal. Disclaimer: Because this is directly connected to two fics that Mack has written you have to read them to understand what I'm talking about. If you don't read heat you should be fine but you will be SO confused if you don't read wdne. And you should just read it anyway because it's amazing. Warning: do not engage heat

You knew from the moment Duchess bid you farewell to go and watch her movie that something was going to happen. The air felt like there was static electricity coursing through it, like someone had taken a lightning rod and drove it through your lungs. You made your way down to the mess hall, wanting to see if you could find something to eat before attempting to turn in for the night. Most people were out, doing their own thing. Payback and Fanboy were together, grabbing dinner before going to see a movie. Bob was off, God knows where, but you knew he wasn't on base, and Rooster was probably with his bartender lady friend who tilted his world on its axis and lit a fire under his ass. They all had one thing in common, though, they had somewhere to be, someone to be with. You weren't even paying attention as you crossed the threshold into the mess hall. You normally didn't have to; it was deader than a doorknob on this base. "Oof!" You looked up and your brain quickly short-circuited. You blinked rapidly, trying to will yourself to think cohesive thoughts as Phoenix's hands shot out to steady you. "Thumper, what are you doing out this late?" You sucked in a breath before your heart rate finally returned to normal and you smiled at her. "Just trying to find a snack before turning in for the night, what about you, what are you doing?"

She grinned back at you as you tracked your gaze up and down her body, taking in the steaming bag of popcorn in her left hand. "I'm going to go join Duchess for a movie in the common room, want to join us?" You shook your head softly, "She already invited me, I don't really like Star Wars so I'm going to try and make my own fun." She raised her eyebrows with an appalled expression painting her face. "You're a fighter pilot, how do you not like Star Wars?"You shrugged as she placed a hand over her chest in mock horror. You both continued to smile at each other; you knew that Duchess was expecting her, but you didn't want this moment to end. Her mouth parted softly as her tongue shot out to lick her lips, and you hung on to her every breath like a nun in church.

"Well I should let-" you started at the same time as she started "I should probably get-" You both broke off and began laughing. "I'll let you go," You side stepped from the door's threshold, and she moved past you. Right as your brain was about to begin the highlight reel of everything embarrassing you did or what you should have said, she turned around again to face you. "It was good to see you, have a good night Thumper." You nodded and waved, opening your mouth to reply, but she had already turned and made her way forward towards the common room.

You were half way through your Twilight Zone episode when you heard a loud knock at your door. You press pause before shutting your laptop down halfway. You hopped off your bed and made your way to the door, expecting someone wanting ask you a question about training or asking you to turn down the volume due to the cardboard thin walls. Instead you were greeted with a red-faced Natasha who had a look in her eyes that you would expect to see on a sailor who had sailed a thousand storms. "What? What's wrong, is everything okay?" You were prepared to call Maverick or the fire department, but instead you found it was much, much worse. "I went to go watch that movie with Duchess, right?" You nodded along to her words. "Right as I was about to open the door I heard Hangman," you cocked your head, sure you knew she couldn't stand the guy, but what about him elicited this kind of reaction? "He and Duchess were playing some sort of truth or dare game. Duchess dared him to fuck her." You blinked, allowing your brain a moment to process the information. "Duchess?" You ask, only growing more confused, "Our Duchess?" She nodded again. "Oh sweet shit," you leaned against the doorway as you heard her silky voice in your head, muttering the words to Hangman. "Okay, give me one second." She raised her eyebrows at you. "You definitely need a drink, well you need to bleach out your brain to forget that experience, but a drink is a start." She huffed out a small laugh, "Give me two seconds to get dressed and then we can go." You shut the door and quickly raced around your room, trying to find your most flattering pair of jeans and your good mascara. You looked in your mirror, nodding quickly before grabbing your phone and opening the door again. You felt your knees go slightly weak at the sight of Phoenix leaning against your doorway as if she didn't have a care in the world. She looked up at you as you tried to shove your hands in your pockets to hide the way they were trembling, cursing womens jeans when you found yourself unable to. "One thing, I don't have a car." You sighed slightly at the statement. "I don't either." You gripped your phone tighter in your hand as you watched Natasha deflate slightly. "Hey wait, Hangman does." She shook her head slightly in confusion. "I'm not following," you raised your eyebrows, grinning as you raised your hand that held your phone. "If he wants to ruin movie night I'm sure he won't mind. Besides, have you seen Duchess workout? He'll be occupied for a while." You lifted your phone and sent Hangman a quick text that you were taking his car and that he "better not get Duchess pregnant or break her heart or you would come for him with a bat" before shutting your door behind you and gesturing for Natasha to walk forward.

As you placed the keys in the ignition, you placed your arm over the back of Phoenix's seat and put the car in reverse. "You know he calls this thing the Hung-mobile right?" You heard her snort next to you as you moved your arm back onto the wheel and placed the car back into drive. "You're fucking joking, right?" You laughed along with her as you pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. "I wish, where too?" You smiled as she told you to go to The Hard Deck. You kept trying to sneak glances at her when you were checking the rearview mirror. She reached across the center console and you tensed for a moment before relaxing when you realized she was just turning on the radio. 'I just need closure at this point,' you thought to yourself as you turned the car into the bar parking lot, deflating slightly at the amount of cars. You pulled into the only empty parking spot you could find before turning the car off.

You grabbed your wallet from the cupholder where you had placed it and unbuckle your seatbelt. You looked up when you heard the car door slam, glancing around for Natasha. You jumped slightly when you saw her standing outside your door. She opened it and held out a hand to help you out. You felt your heart race as if someone had shocked you when you grabbed her hand. You didn't let go as she shut your door behind you and led you up to the front door of the bar.

You raised your eyebrows at the noise that greeted you as you shut the door behind you. You leaned in close, telling yourself it was because you didn't want to lose her in the chaos. Phoenix pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, pulling you behind her. You made your way up to the bar counter, letting her pull you in close to her side. You watched as the bartenders moved around like bees in a hive, trying to make sure everyone's needs were met. You leaned up and placed your hand on Phoenix's shoulder. "See the girl in the blue t-shirt?" You waited for her to nod before continuing, "That's Bradleys lady friend." She turned her head to look at you. You shrugged your shoulders, "Regardless of how much they clean, I wouldn't touch that bar top if I was you." You snickered as she shot out of her seat and backed a step away from the bar. "What has been in the water at this god damned base?" She seethed as she scrubbed at her forearms with her hands. You threw your head back and laughed to the ceiling as a different bartender walked over to grab your order. "I'll do a Coors Edge and whatever she wants." You gestured to Natasha with your head as she walked up to the bar, being conscious to not place her hands down on the wood top.

Drinks in hand, you both walked over to a secluded table in the corner, trying to avoid the noise to the best of your ability. You touch your bottles together before lifting them to your lips to drink. You placed your bottle down on the table after a small sip and watched in morbid curiosity as Phoenix continued to chug her bottle without making a face. She finally brought the bottle away from her face as she sucked in a deep breath. "Did you ever come here when you were at Top Gun the first time?" You cocked your head at the question. "Almost every weekend. Brought a lot of dates here." She nodded, playing with the rim of her bottle. "These dates, did they like it here?" You raised your eyebrows, confused at what she was getting at. "The guys were okay with it, kind of intimidated by the amount of uniforms. The girls however almost never liked it, wanting to go to some fancy place or another that served wine by the bottle." She nodded along. You lifted your bottle to your mouth, sipping on it and considering the woman in front of you. She didn't say anything as you continued to drink. You set your drink back down on the table, 'fuck it,' you thought. No time like the present. "Natasha, are you gay?"

She choked on her drink, struggling to get the liquid down her throat before placing hers down on the table as well. She lifted her hand to her face, using the back of her palm to wipe off her mouth. "Did you not know that?" You flipped your hands towards the ceiling in confusion. "Was I supposed to know that?" She began to laugh and you only grew more confused. "Everyone and their great aunt knows I'm a raging lesbian." You sighed before huffing out a laugh, "Well everyone but you apparently." You rolled your eyes playfully. "Wait," she starts, "you're gay too right?" You gaped at her. "I literally just confirmed that I date women Natasha, are you shitting me?" She threw her head back and laughed from deep in her body. "Natasha, the moment Duchess introduced me to you I was deeply into you." She stopped laughing and turned to look at you, "Don't fuck with me, are you serious?" You stuck your chin out as you nodded. She picked up her drink and quickly finished it, slamming it back down onto the table with a little more force than necessary. "Let's go." She stood up and held out her hand to you. "Phoenix, we literally just got here." She shook her head, "And now we're leaving, let's go." You grabbed your beer and quickly drained it, before placing your hand in hers. She held your hands above her head as she led you to the bar, paying for both of your drinks before leading you out.

You went to reach for your door but gasped as Phoenix grabbed your shoulder and spun you around, pinning you by your hips to the side of the car. She leaned in close, nudging your nose with hers. "Is this okay," she whispered to you. You nodded feverously, moaning as she brought her lips down to yours. You moved your hands from your sides to her neck, grasping your wrist behind her head. She moved and you chased her, not wanting this moment to end but wanting to continue on. She finally broke away and moved her lips down to your jaw, then your neck as you reached around blindly for the handle to the back. You finally managed to grip the handle, pulling it open as Phoenix continued her assault on your neck. You walked backwards, and she followed you, never breaking her contact with your skin. You giggled as your knees hit the back seat and buckled, causing you to fall across the back seat. You scooched backward and brought your body fully into the car, sitting up as Phoenix followed you and shut the door behind her.

She gripped the back of your head and continued to kiss down your neck, as you fumbled blindly with her pants. She straddled your lap as you managed to pull her pants down halfway before giving up. You brought your hands up to her chest and pressed them on her shoulders. "Wait, baby, stop." She sat up, looking at you, craning her neck in the cramped back seat. "Jake would be pissed if he found out that we fucked in the back seat of his car that we took without asking." She sighed in acknowledgement. "Let's go back to base, return the car, and do something fun." She shook her head in amusement before reaching back to pull her pants up and crawl backwards to open the door. She held her hand out for you again and you used it to pull yourself up as you crawled out. You opened the front door and got yourself situated, turning to make sure Natasha was doing okay before turning the car on and backing out of the parking lot. As you turned on to the main road you swear that out of the corner of your eye you saw a distinct shade of blue pull into your old parking spot.

You struggled to get Phoenix's jacket off as she grabbed your face in her hands, following your lips as you tried to draw back and get the stupid jacket off. She reached behind her and twisted open your doorknob; walking backwards, you trailed behind her, kicking the door shut behind you. You finally slipped off her jacket and threw it behind you as her hands reached up under your shirt. She continued to walk backwards until she hit your bed and fell backwards, taking you with her. You fell on top of her; you broke away from her lips, kissing down her neck as you lifted the hem of her shirt. She placed one strong hand on your back as she sat up. You continued to kiss and suck your mark into her neck, only stopping when her shirt got in the way as she pulled it up and off her head.

She reached down and popped open the button on your jeans. She pulled the zipper down before grabbing them by the sides and pulling them down your legs. She kneeled to the floor, following your pants as she dragged them down your legs. She kissed down your thighs as she wiggled your jeans off of your ankles and threw them somewhere on your floor. Your back arched slightly as she played with the hem of your underwear. "Can these come off too?" You nodded from your place on the bed. "Yes, Natasha, please!" You couldn't even bother to be embarrassed at the tone of your voice. She slid your underwear down your legs as well, spreading them when she dropped them on your floor. She placed her hands under your knees, pulling your legs up and over her shoulders. "You might want to hold onto something." You lift your head up from your place on the bed to question her, but don't get the chance as she places her mouth to your clit and any thought you had is replaced by moans and whimpers. You can tell that Natasha has definitely done this before because you'd never felt this good in your life. She sucks and bites and kisses like a god. She breaks away and you whine, your hips bucking up as you try to follow her mouth. "Could any of those fancy wine girls do this to you?" You shake your head rapidly, "No, no! Only you Natasha. Only you." She raises her eyebrows in content before whispering, "Good girl." She bites the inside of your thigh before continuing her assault on your core. You toss your head back in desperation as you feel your muscles contract and spasm when she doesn't stop. You can feel your entire body getting smaller, your center of gravity expanding as the feeling deep inside grows until it is all consuming. "Go ahead, baby, it's okay you can let go." You groan as you finally fall off the cliff. Your vision goes white and you swear that you've reached the peak of your life. It was only downhill from this point forward.

As your vision returns and the feeling begins to subside, you shudder at the feeling of a gentle massage on the sides of your thighs. "Hey, love, welcome back." You smile as Natasha kisses you, whining slightly as she breaks away. "Just taking off my clothes, sweetheart." You settle as you feel her come up next to you in your bed. "Wait, Natasha let me take care of you." You reach your hands across your body to feel hers, but stop as she grabs your wrist and returns it to your side. "There'll be plenty of time for that later, for now just let me hold you." You draw away from her, confused. She notes your expression. "I could've had you all this time and I wasted it because I couldn't work up the courage to ask you so just, just let my heart recuperate. Let me have this." You nod before tucking yourself back into her side. You let your eyes fall closed as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. You were more than happy to get used to this.

#F and F universe #Top Gun Maverick #Phoenix x reader #phoenix x you #phoneix x yn #natasha trace #top gun phoenix #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x female reader #natasha trace x you #natasha trace x yn

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pink-paw-14 · 2 years

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Three is Definitely Better than Two Rooster x f!Reader x Phoenix

A/N: this is for the darling @a-bolanos and I couldn't be more excited to write this! I hope anyone who reads this enjoys!

Based on this ask

WARNING 18+ MAKE SMART CHOICES

Your birthday was coming up and you had no idea what to ask for. Bradley, your wonderfully amazing boyfriend was desperate to find out what you wanted. He was determined to make it the best birthday you've ever had, but he didn't tell you that.

However, an idea came to you one night while you and Bradley were at The Hard Deck with the rest of Bradley's squadron. Phoenix, who you were great friends with, was standing next to Bradley while he tested out a new song on the piano. She rested her hand on Bradley's shoulder and jokingly took her cold beer bottle and placed it on the back of his neck, trying to get him to jump.

Watching those two poke and joke with each other almost like you and Bradley did, sent shivers down your spine and you immediately knew what you wanted for your birthday.

As soon as you and Bradley got home you sat him down on the couch. "Bradley, Baby?" you said as you straddled his lap, lightly pushing his shoulders so that he was leaning against the back of the couch.

"What's up, Sweetheart?"

"Remember how you were asking what I wanted for my birthday? Well, I think I figured it out." You told him with a smile, as you lightly rubbed his shoulders.

"Oh yeah? And what is it that you want?" he responded while moving his hands to rest on your waist.

"I saw how good you and Phoenix are together, and I couldn't help but think about how amazing it would be to have you and her both at my beck and call for one night." you leaned into him and gave small kisses along his neck.

"I haven't fucked you in a while, maybe she would be willing to help me out," you whisper into Bradley's ear and feel him shiver at the thought. "It would make for a fantastic birthday present."

"I-I could mention it to her and she what she has to say," Bradley explained, you could feel how hard he was.

You nibble a little on his ear, "Good Boy."

***

It was two days before your birthday when you got a call from Phoenix.

"Hello?" you answered as you picked up the call.

"Well hello, birthday girl. I've heard from a mutual friend that you have a specific birthday wish this year." Phoenix said, with a teasing voice.

Since Phoenix was your best friend, she knew the ins and outs of your sex life with Bradley. You weren't afraid to share exactly what you were thinking with the female pilot. And because Phoenix was so amazing she was on board with your idea in no time.

After the call ended you had no doubt in your mind that this was going to be the best birthday of your life.

***

You and Bradley were sitting on the couch the night of your birthday, Bradley had insisted on making dinner and then ordered take-out after he burned dinner. It was perfect.

Now, you both were just waiting for Natasha to get to your shared house and the grand finale would begin. However, Bradley's leg was bouncing up and down so fast you could feel the movement through the couch.

"Baby? Everything okay?" you ask, you knew now was the time to make sure that Bradley wanted to do this.

"Yeah, everything is fine. Why do you ask?" He could be such a doofus sometimes.

"Your leg is shaking the whole couch. It's okay if you don't want to do this, I understand, and it's certainly not too late to say no. Hell, you can say no anytime you want." You explain to him.

"No, no it's not that. I'm really excited, almost too excited if I'm being honest." He claimed with a blush across his cheeks to back him up.

You let out a laugh and lean in to kiss him. "You are so cute sometimes babe."

Soon enough there is a knock on the door and Phoenix is letting herself in. You bolt off the couch and meet her by the door.

"Hi," you say once she sees you.

"Hi," she says back.

You reach out your hand and say, "Come on, he's been squirming all night," with a laugh.

"Bradley, come," you command with ease as you lead Natasha to the bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, you tell them both to get undressed as you head towards the walk-in closet to grab a strap-on and lube. As soon as you step out of the closet with necessity in hand, Natasha has Bradley sitting on the bed and is kneeling behind him with her hands roaming his broad shoulders. You stop and admire the two sculptured people in front of you.

"Baby Boy, lay down for us won't you?" You say.

Bradley stiffens and then flops down on the bed like a good little boy. Natasha lets out a laugh at his eagerness.

You walk over to the bed so you are right next to Natasha. "Do me a favor and ride his face while I prep him?" you ask. She smiles at the idea and you give her a kiss. You can feel Bradley's eyes on you.

Natasha quickly has Bradley's head between her thighs and is getting to work.

You make your way between Bradley's legs which are still dangling over the edge of the bed. You kneel down on the floor and move his legs so that you can get to his hole.

Working Bradley open has become one of your favorite past times, your second favorite being fucking him with a strap on till he is in tears. One finger soon turns to two and two turns into three, and just like that Bradley is ready to be fucked.

"Nat, come here. He's ready for you."

She is off of Bradley and right next to you in seconds. You pull your fingers out of Bradley, and he lets out a whine of disapproval. You give Bradley's cock a harsh tap.

"Be patient, you'll be filled with Nat's cock in a minute," you tell him. Natasha is suddenly kissing you and working your pants off of your hips.

"I don't think it's very fair that you are still completely dressed," she explains pulling your shirt up, clearly trying to take it off of you. in your peripheral vision you can see Bradley's head snap up off the bed to look at the two of you.

"Are you sure? Or did you just want to see me naked? Because if that's the case all you had to do was ask baby," you tell her as your hand snakes from her waist to between her legs. you let your fingers run through her folds and then bring them to your mouth, the taste of her on your tongue has a moan leaving your mouth. "Fuck, you taste heavenly. Get the Strap on ready so you can fuck Bradley."

The Strap-on in question was a fancy one, there was a small vibrator that would sit on Natasha's clit and give her buzzes while she fucked Bradley.

You quickly finish getting the rest of your clothes off and you make your way onto the bed so you can take the place that Natasha had occupied. Right on Bradley's face.

"Natasha, you can cum as many times as you want but you won't stop until Bradley has cum, understand?"

"Yes, Ma'am." is your response, and you watch as she slowly enters Bradley's hole.

"Bradley, you don't get to cum until I've cum at least twice. Do you understand?"

You could feel Bradley nod between your thighs and he let out a quiet 'Yes, Ma'am.'

"Good, get to work."

Without any further pushing, Bradley started eating you out and Natasha quickly set a brutal pace, determined to fuck Bradley into the mattress.

The only noises in the bedroom were, your moaning, the vibrator that was on Natasha's clit, the sound of skin slapping and all the whines Bradley was making.

Soon enough you were being pushed into your first orgasm of the night. Bradley didn't stop tongue fucking you from his position under him, and you didn't tell him to stop.

You leaned forward and pulled Natasha close to you so that you could make out with her while she tried to get Bradley to orgasm. With her leaning so that she covered Bradley's lower half the vibrator had better access to her clit making her shiver and moan into your mouth as you kissed her.

"Fuck, Bradley, keep going. Just like that baby, I'm so close. Be a good boy and make me cum." You told Bradley as you broke the mini makeout session between you and Natasha.

You hit your second orgasm of the night not long after you encouraged Bradley. Once you stopped seeing stars, you leaned down and took Bradley's cock into your mouth. After one suck he was spilling down your throat with a shout of pleasure.

You let go of Bradley's cock with a pop and watched as Natasha finally tipped over the edge into an orgasm. Her hips slowed and she pulled the strap on out of Bradley.

All three of you were panting and tired from the experience you just shared. You helped Bradley move up the bed so his head was under some pillows and you flopped down next to him. Natasha quickly taking the strap on off and joining you both on the bed.

After a moment of silence, you smiled. "That was by far the best birthday gift I have ever received."

Natasha let out a laugh and Bradley wrapped an arm around you, pulled you close, and kissed your head.

"I say that three is definitely better than two."

#natasha phoenix trace #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #natasha trace #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x female reader #natasha trace x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #Bradley Bradshaw x you #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster bradshaw

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flor4de4amor · 19 days

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𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞!

you’re abby’s favorite bartender at her favorite dive bar. she doesn’t take to kindly to people disrespecting her best girl.

warnings: alcohol is mentioned + slight violence

click for palestine! read before engaging with my acc+work

Abby is a regular at your bar. Well, regular is a kind way to put it. At this point, she lives in the dive bar. She’s head over heels for you but has decided obnoxious flirting every happy hour, and a sliver of your attention will suffice.

Her routine is simple:

Order a beer. From her favorite bartender of course. If anyone offers to serve her it’s deny, deny, deny. She can only accept alcoholic content from her best girl.

Shoot some darts, play some pool, chugging contest. Blah, blah, blah. It’s only fun if she sees you sneaking glances from your station, shooting you a wink while she engages with her team. She likes seeing how flustered she can get you with a thin-lipped smile and wink alone. And the answer is very flustered.

Once she’s seen you steal enough glances, it’s time to go back to the bar and bother you. Sure, order another drink. But, also, flirt with the gorgeous girl serving her. Is that a new shirt? Your hair looks so pretty tonight. She loves the necklace you’re wearing, situated real well between your tits.

Then stay on the barstool, all night, up until she’s one of the last patrons in the bar. Even though, she’s gotta be up running drills quite soon after your shift ends. But it’s worth it. If she can make you laugh at least once.

Every time. Without fail. That’s Abby’s routine, and tonight was no different.

Well, except for the fact that there was some asshole bothering you while you worked. Doesn’t he know that’s her job? Only she can bother you, she’s the only one who does it right. Besides, you looked annoyed while he was talking to you. You never looked annoyed when Abby flirted. Always brushing your fingers on her bicep, giggling as she flexed, giving her a hard time for flinching after a shot. You relished in her attention even. You looked like you wanted to throw up while this guy was talking to you. Abby personally, wants to throw him a punch. Instead, she rolls her eyes and fiddles with the toothpick between her teeth, before calling you over to her. The night’s still early, maybe he’ll back off. She hasn't gotten her slice of your attention yet, so she refuses to let that be cut short.

“Hey, princess!” She uses a hand motion towards you. Your face lights up as you walk towards her freckled face. You hadn't spoken many words to her all night. It was a relief to see the pilot in her designated stool.

You throw your towel over your shoulder and place your hands on your hips. “How can I help you, Captain Anderson?” Your tongue pokes between your lips, a coy smile protruding.

Abby rolls her eyes. “I hate when you call me that.” She sighs playfully, “I only let my favorite bartenders call me Abby y’know.”

You place your hand over your heart, flinching, “Silly me thinking I was the only one.”

Abby whistles lowly at you. “None of them are half as pretty as you, baby.” She watches as you turn your head to the side shyly. She’s already got you flustered and the night’s just begun. She hasn’t even started throwing darts and flexing muscles with her squad yet.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now. “Promise?” you flirt shamelessly, curious as to what she’ll say.

“Scout’s honor princess,” she kisses three of her fingers and holds them up.

You laugh at her actions. Only Abby can have you laughing at work. In a sticky bar, tight shirt, and light hangover still cascading over you. “Okay, Abby,” You say her name sickeningly sweet. She almost bends over to her knees. “What can I get you tonight?” She smiles, tapping the paper coaster on the countertop, pretending to think. “I’m gonna go with the usual tonight babe.”

You smile, “Boring but expected.” You go to grab a glass and fill it up with ice as a deep baritone fills your ears. “Princess,” the man calls. This new customer was evidently, not privy to the unspoken rules of the bar. He winks at Abby expecting some comradery from a nickname alone. As if friendships are built off disrespecting women.

You cringe at the nickname and don’t reply. Your legs only move to that call when it’s your favorite captain calling you.

“Oh c’mon don’t be that way.” The man continues. “What? You want a different nickname?” Abby’s jaw is clenched so tightly, that she's sure her molars have cracked. She’s clenching her fist to the point that the white of her knuckles is apparent.

“She doesn’t respond to that,” Abby replies to the asshole. “She’s got a name.” This man is new sure, but definitely an idiot. He’s choosing to continue squaring off with the Abby Anderson. You know better. You wouldn't disrespect her even with all the alcohol in the world flooding your system. You’ve seen her in a bar fight. She’s never lost.

“What is this your girlfriend?” He laughs drunkenly. “I mean I’m into that sort of thing,” he snorts to himself. “Why don’t you give us all a little kiss?” He continues chuckling like he’s some world-class comedian. Though, Abby doesn’t seem to find him funny.

She runs her hand over her face. She looks at you for a moment. “Princess,” she leans in whispering, “How many bar fights in me until you said I was banned?”

You lean closer to her, whispering back, “I don’t think I’m allowed to ban the champ.” Smiling cheekily at her. She winks and clicks her tongue. That’s all she needs as reassurance to kick this guy’s ass.

She gets up from the stool, walking closer to him. Though Abby oozes dominance, when she’s standing over you it’s hard not to shit your pants. She places her hands square atop this guy’s shoulders. “I’m gonna give you just one chance to apologize to my pretty girl or else you’re gonna be banned.”

The man brandishes off a drunk grin that’s missing two front teeth. “Ban? Me? Ban me? Nah.”

Abby rolls her eyes, “So that’s a no?” She doesn’t even give the guy a chance to answer before punching him straight in the jaw. “See someone else has had the common sense to knock two teeth from that ugly mug of yours, what’s a few more?” She mutters to herself. There’s slight commotion, but it dies down quickly with the rest of Abby’s aviator squad coming quickly behind her. Beers still in hand, foam coating a few mustaches they ask her what happened. She wrings out her hand, “Go take his picture for the wall of shame and dump him outside.” She huffs, watching her lieutenants follow her orders.

Abby comes to sit by you in her same old worn-down barstool. She smiles as you give her a bag of ice for her hand. “What number fight is that?” You ask her softly and playfully.

“For you or in this bar?” She’s got that look in her eye, nothing but trouble.

You roll your eyes, “Don’t answer a question with a question.” You being to make the drink you never got to give the dirty blonde.

“You’re bossy tonight,” she muses, accepting the drink once you hand it to her, chugging quickly. “Fighting makes me thirsty she muses.”

You repress a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “So Captain,” you drag out the tightly slightly. Watching as Abby raises her eyebrow at you.

“Princess,” she replies with an edge to her voice.

“When’re you gonna bite the bullet and ask me out? Hasn’t total endless flirting with me gotten boring?” You lean against the bar top, cleavage spilling from your low-cut top.

“How about now?” Abby works hard to make sure her eyes don’t come to your spillage. She works overtime in doing so even. It’s torturous.

You hum, “Beating up drinkies doesn’t count as a date you know?” You smile at her, propping your face against your hand.

“Our first date wouldn’t be here,” she smiles toothily. “If that’s the case, we’ve had plenty of dates while I sat in this barstool. We’re married even.” She grins at you.

Your tongue licks your lips, “Moving fast, aren’t you? Focus on the first date, Anderson.”

“Yeah get used to saying that last name, ‘cause it’ll be yours,” she clicks her tongue and winks at you. “How about I come to grab you this weekend? A nice dinner, me you, and no drunks up your ass.”

“Does this mean I’ll finally be seeing you out of that old navy uniform Anderson?” Your smile captivates your face as you tease her. Only you would make fun of her while she’s trying to ask you out.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t go home on the first date.” She teases, laughing softly, ‘cause it’s far from true.

“Liar,” you call her out on her shit, carefully grasping the glinting dog tags that lay around her neck. You pull her in for a kiss, for a moment there’s cheering. You know it’s from her rowdy lieutenants. You smile against her lips and pull away. “I’ll see you this weekend?” You say looking at her loved face.

“Sure thing princess.” She’s stunned. “You know what? Put a round on my tab, for celebration.” She reaffirms.

“No doubt captain,” you smile mocking a salute.

divider by @aqualogia

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ereardon · 4 months

Text

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter One

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child?

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, alcohol

Chapter summary: Y/N meets Bob's squadron, and encounters someone she thought she'd never see again; the Daggers celebrate Jake's birthday where he and Y/N have their first conversation after the one night stand

Masterlist here

You were late. Bob was going to kill you. Your brother was a stickler when it came to being on time. It came as no surprise to anyone in your family that he had gone into the military.

You rushed through the door, purse strap getting caught on the handle and you tugged it free, chest rising as you spun around, searching for Bob. He stood in the corner of the coffee shop, pristine in a khaki uniform, eyes wide behind his wire glasses.

“Hi Ducky,” he said as you tossed yourself into his arms, breathing in his familiar scent. He felt like home, even though it had been years since you and Bob had lived under the same roof. You had been barely a teen when Bob left for the Naval Academy, and his stints on land were far and few between after. His assignment to Top Gun was the first time he had settled somewhere on a more permanent basis. It’s why you decided to move to San Diego after college. All of your friends had scattered around the country – grad school in New York, policy analysts in Washington, even one friend had taken an internship with an art dealer in Miami. But you had packed up and left Tennessee with one goal. Be closer to your brother.

“Bobby,” you grinned, stepping back to admire him. Every time you saw him it was months apart and so much had changed, but also so little. He was the same Bob who had thrown you over his shoulder to win the family flag football game on Thanksgiving. The same Bob who had carried your book bag for you when you were in elementary school and he was a middle schooler and went a mile out of his way every morning to make sure you got to your homeroom class safe and sound. The Bob who always picked up, day or night, when you called. The Bob who listened to you weep about your college boyfriend who broke your heart. The Bob who took care of you when you were seven and had the flu and your mom was working a double shift at the hospital and couldn’t stay home with you.

“Ducky,” he said, dropping your hands. The familiar nickname on his tongue brought forward a flood of memories: spring weekends flying kites in the nearby park, sitting on the back of a tandem bike with Bob on a trip to Florida to visit your grandparents, the fort the two of you made the one time it snowed two feet in Tennessee in under a day in March. “This is my squad. Guys, meet my sister, Y/N.”

You tore your gaze from Bob, looking over at the table he was gesturing to, a smile plastered on your face. A beautiful brunette with pearly white teeth and a tight bun was on the far left. That was Phoenix. You had received a handful of letters from Bob talking about her. Next to Phoenix was a handsome, bulky man with a mustache in a plain blue t-shirt. Wow, he was gorgeous.

Your eyes shifted over one more, breath halting in your throat as your gaze slowly crept up. First you spotted the dog tags. Eerily familiar, but then again, a lot of military guys wore dog tags, right?

Then the chin. Ridiculously cut jaw, slight bifurcated butt chin that you had found weirdly adorable two nights before. Plump, pink lips, puckered up in a grin. You felt your heart sink. There was only one thing left. You raised your eyes to his. Clear, seafoam green. An ocean in two small orbs. He smiled as you screamed internally.

Bob’s voice drew you out of your coma. “That’s Bradley.” The mustache man waved a hand. “And Jake Seresin. Hangman.”

Jake. Your stomach did a somersault.

Last time you had seen him, you had been teetering on the edge of drunk, standing outside of the bar with one hand on the railing, the salty ocean wind licking at the sweat on your collarbone, flicking the ends of your hair up against your chin.

The next moment, his tongue was on your throat, in your mouth, fingers in your hair, pressing your body against the railing of the deck as you whimpered into his lips.

You had crept out of bed before he woke up. Just a gorgeous, tan, muscular back sticking out beneath crisp white sheets as you tugged on your short dress and called an Uber. You had expected to never see him again.

And here he was, smirking at you as your brother’s gaze narrowed.

You had fucked up. Correction. You had fucked Jake Seresin. And that was a major fuck up.

***

Bob had never been the type to have a huge friend group, or any close friends really. So the first time he called from Top Gun, giddy with excitement, you had been elated for him. Your brother deserved a tightly knit friend group.

Before you had moved to San Diego, Bob had filled you in on the group’s antics. Their flights, their wild nights out, the dynamics. But he had centered mostly on Phoenix and Rooster.

Jake had conveniently been left out of the majority of the conversation.

“Well?” Bob asked as the two of you headed back to his house in your rental car. “What do you think of the group?”

“They’re nice,” you said.

“That’s it? Nice?”

You sighed. “I’m really happy for you, Bobby. You have a good group of friends. I know that’s what you always wanted.”

Bob leaned back against the seat. You were the one person that Bob confided in. He was an open book and you could read him with one glance. Looking over, you spotted his furrowed brow, the tense way he was squeezing his knuckles together.

“Are you OK?” you asked, turning your eyes back toward the road, slowing down to take a right turn.

“Tell me you didn’t move here for me.”

“Then I’d be lying.”

“Y/N,” Bob said. His voice had taken on Big Brother™ mode. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t you want me around?” you whispered.

“Of course I do,” Bob replied. “I just don’t want you to waste your life following me.”

“Living in California a waste?” you asked. “No way.”

“What’s the plan, Duck?”

“Not everyone was born potty trained and with a plan, Bobby.”

“You’re twenty-three,” he countered. “It’s time to be an adult and figure out what you’re doing with your life.”

“You sound like mom.”

“And we both know she’s never wrong.”

You sighed. “Just because you got your life together at seven doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Duck—”

You cut him off. “Bobby, please. It’s been a week. Give me a little time and I promise, I'll figure out what I’m doing. Just be my brother, OK, instead of acting like my dad.”

That silenced him. Bob had taken your father’s disappearance harder than you had. He put on a brave face. He stepped up. He became the man of the house. But that meant that he had taken it upon himself to be your brother and your dad. So even at twenty three he still saw you as a child.

The two of you drove the rest of the way back to Bob’s house in silence. Inside, you were just about to close the door to your guest bedroom when Bob’s voice floated down the hall.

“By the way,” he said, “I told the squad we’d go out for drinks with them tonight. It’s Jake’s birthday.”

You grimaced. “Sounds good.”

“Leave at nine?”

“Sure.” You closed the door, plopping down on the bed face first. You had moved to San Diego to figure your life out. And of course the first thing you had done was have a one night stand with one of Bob’s teammates. If he had been anyone else in the world you would have been able to avoid him.

What do you get someone for their birthday when you hoped you’d never see them again?

***

“Floyd!”

You turned at the same time as Bob. Bradley grinned. “Oh this is going to get confusing.”

“Here.” Natasha pointed to the bar stool next to her. “Have a seat. Boys will get you a drink. Bradshaw?”

Bradley tipped his head. “On it, ma’am.”

She rolled her eyes as you settled into the seat, crossing your legs beneath the short skirt. “So, Y/N. Bob’s told me all about his little sister. But he left out that you were coming to live here.”

“I’m not much of a planner.”

Phoenix laughed. “The anti-Bob. I like you already.”

“He’s told me a lot about you,” you replied. “And Bradley.”

“And nothing about Jake I’m guessing?” You nodded and Phoenix took a sip of her beer. “Trust me when I say, you don’t want to even go there.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

Phoenix craned her neck around, making sure the two of you were out of earshot before nodding. “Just steer clear of him. That’s my suggestion. Hangman is fun for a night. But things get messy quick. And he and Bob have a little bit of a history.”

You frowned. “What kind of history?”

Just as Phoenix opened her mouth to respond, Bradley pressed a beer into your open hand. “Ducky.”

You grimaced. “Bobby, you didn’t!”

He shrugged. “Sorry.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m so going to eat your last Pop-Tart tomorrow just to get you back for that.”

“Fill us in, will you?” Phoenix asked.

“When she was four, Y/N became obsessed with those little yellow rubber ducks that you put in your bath.” You groaned as your brother recounted the full story. How you had thrown a fit when your mother had tried to take you out of the bath and the only thing to calm you had been to fill your bed with the rubber ducks. And how the next morning that continued, one rubber duck gripped firmly in your chubby hand as you ate breakfast, went to the park, tagged along to the grocery store, went to daycare. This continued for weeks.

You didn’t want to admit to the team that you still had a rubber duck stuffed inside your suitcase back at Bob’s house. It was a safety net of sorts.

“Sorry, Duck,” Bob said, squeezing your shoulders and placing a small peck on the top of your head.

You looked up at him. His cheeks were flushed, he had a massive grin on his face. He was happy. All you had wanted in as long as you could remember was for Bob to be happy. He took your happiness more seriously than his own. It was time you returned the favor.

“Am I interrupting?” All eyes turned to Jake. He had on a tight black t-shirt and a pair of jeans with cowboy boots peeking out the bottom. He shot a grin your way and you did your best to avoid his eye contact.

“Happy birthday, Hangman.” There was a chill in Bob’s voice, or perhaps you were reading into it because of what Phoenix had said earlier.

Jake nodded. “Thanks, man. Anyone up for a game of darts?”

Bob dropped his hand from your shoulder, following Phoenix and Jake back toward the darts board on one end of the bar. You sat back in your seat, tipping the beer down your throat, watching as they played. There was an easy banter with all of them.

You finished your beer, the darts game still ongoing. Quietly, you slipped around the edge of the room, out the door that led to the back deck.

It was quiet outside, just the sound of the waves crashing against the hard sand and the soft hum of the music as it seeped through under the door and from behind the old windows. You laid your fingertips on the wooden railing, tipping your head back toward the moon that was slung low in the sky, feeling the cool breeze dry the sweat that had started to form on the base of your neck.

“Mind if I join?”

You turned. Jake stepped out onto the deck, a beer in one hand. He approached the railing, putting the green bottle down and smirking over at you. This time you were far less drunk. You shrugged. “It’s your birthday. Who am I to say what you can or can’t do?”

He frowned. “Don’t be like that.”

“Just because you’ve seen me naked doesn’t mean you know me.”

He looked bristled. “Y/N. I had no idea you were Bob’s sister when we met the other night. If I had known, I—”

“Wouldn’t have fucked me?”

He grimaced. “You’re the one that left without saying anything.”

You folded your arms over your chest. “It’s not like you were falling over yourself to drive me home. It was better that way and we both know it.” You allowed yourself to look up. God, he was stunning. Green, wide eyes. Tanned skin, the way his forearm flexed as he gripped the railing. You could remember the way his touch felt as he dragged his fingertips over your skin. You tried to shake the memory from your mind. “Just do me one favor.”

“Sure.”

“Don’t tell Bob,” you whispered. “Let’s just forget the other night ever happened.”

Jake’s gaze lingered. “If that’s what you want.”

You pushed up off of the railing. “It’ll be better, trust me.” You headed for the door, turning around at the last moment. Jake was still leaning against the railing, watching the waves in the dark. “Jake?”

He turned, green eyes wide. There was something almost sad about him, you thought. It was a fleeting glimpse, but you saw it.

“Happy birthday.”

He smiled. You turned, peering through the glass on the wood door. Bob had his head thrown back in a laugh as Bradley pounded against the piano keys and Phoenix danced. You smiled. Your brother was happy.

You weren’t going to ruin his perfectly crafted life by saying you had slept with one of his friends. It would be easier for everyone if you and Jake Seresin pretended you had never met before.

How would they ever catch you in your lie?

Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:

@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away

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topgun-imagines · 1 year

Text

Nothing to Lose

Requested: no

Summary: The real reason behind why Jake Seresin’s flying is so reckless.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mentions of car crashes, death, child loss.

Note: I apologize in advance.

Parings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Wife!reader

It was amazing how fast rumors could spread at Top Gun. People were constantly gossiping about who did what, who had a drink with who. A common one was who slept with who. That one seemed to be the topic of right now. Many pilots and WSO’s could be found in the Hard Deck discussing this particular topic, eyes darting around the room as they watched people leave. But, as usual, the pilots and WSO’s of Top Gun ran out of rumors to spread. When they were especially bored, they would turn to people’s flying, critiquing their skill and ability until they inevitably gave up on that too. There was still one incredible rumor floating around Top Gun. It had yet to be answered but there seemed to be new theories every day.

Why was Jake Seresin’s flying so reckless?

The answer was simple. While no one knew it, everyone speculated. He had a mission go sideways overseas, he was overly cocky, he was flying against the ghost of the man his father wanted him to be; the ideas seemed to get crazier with every passing day. Regardless of how many theories there were, no one would ever get it right. Jake kept that secret closely guarded. No one else knew about it. And if Jake had it his way, no one would ever find out.

He was sitting at the bar, listening to people gossip all around him. The pilot had been called to Top gun a few weeks ago. He practically jumped at the chance to escape his old town. Austin was full of too many bad memories. Jake had never been close to anyone, and coming to Top Gun as the only member of his squadron seemed to prove that to him.

Just as he was about to pay his tab, a man approached him. “Hangman,” The man started, staring down at the blond with a small smirk. “I’m Coyote. Nice to officially meet you,” Jake bit his tongue before forcing a smile. He had seen the man in class the day before; he seemed like the kind of man that was easy to make friends with. Which was exactly what Jake didn’t need right now. Jake slid his card over to Penny. He couldn’t wait to get back to his quarters. “Me and my friend have a little wager,” The taller man nodded back toward a black-haired woman that was sitting by the dart board. Jake raised a single eyebrow, not really caring where this conversation was going. “She says that you have a girlfriend. I said no way in hell.” The blond pilot sucked in a sharp breath.

Without responding to the man, Jake plucked his card out of Penny’s hand and turned around. He left the bar, leaving the man standing behind him. “What the hell man?” Coyote called out. With a shake of his head, he made his way back to the table. He wasn’t going to let some blond pilot ruin his night with Natasha.

The truck was silent as Jake drove to his quarters. He had shut off the radio the second he climbed into the beat-up truck. The window was rolled down, fresh air streaming into the truck as he sped down the highway. Honestly, he was shocked at the fact that the man’s statement had affected him as much as it did. Jake spent the rest of the ride with his head in the clouds, mind drifting back to a past that he thought he had left behind.

He pulled into the driveway of his temporary housing. To him, it was far from a home. The headlight flashed against dark windows, briefly displaying the emptiness inside of the house. Jake killed the engine. He sat in the truck for a few minutes, willing himself to forget everything that had just rushed back to the surface. Everything that he had tried so hard to push down. With a final shaky breath, he hopped out of the car and headed into the house.

Flicking the lights on, he slipped out of his shoes. The pilot moved through the house slowly, eventually winding up in the bathroom. The reflection that stared back at him was blank, barely showing any hint of emotion whatsoever. He pulled his T-shirt over his head quickly, discarding it into the growing pile of dirty laundry by the door. When his eyes landed on his dog tags his breath hitched. The rings that dangled from it taunted him, mocked him for why they were hanging there. His eyes drifted down to his own ring finger, finding the shiny gold band glinting back at him.

Jake cleared his throat and finished getting ready. He brushed his teeth quickly, attempting to ignore everything that he was feeling. Memories attached to those rings couldn’t help but rush to the surface. When he was done Jake climbed into bed and let his eyes slip shut, willing his mind to allow him one night of peaceful sleep. But after today’s events, he knew that that was unlikely.

Jake awoke with a start. For almost a year now his dreams had been plagued with memories from that day. He checked the time. 5am. That was longer than he usually lasted. Even though he hadn’t been there to witness it, the horrid image from the hospital was enough to fill his mind with pictures of what could have happened. With a sigh, the blond hopped out of bed. He flicked on the bedside lamp as he began to get ready for his day.

First, he made a coffee for himself. It had the perfect amount of creamer. Just how you used to make it. Then he practically chugged the drink, inhaling sharply as pictures of her flooded his mind. He pulled a random T-shirt over his head before slipping on his leggings. A quick run by the beach should do him some good. He didn’t bother locking the house as he exited. It’s not like there was much inside that he valued anyways.

The air was crisp as he began his run. At this time of the morning the sun was barely above the horizon, only a small sliver of light peaking up over the sea. The house that he had been given was right on the beach. Wind that blew in from the sea helped clear his head. He kept running, mind moving faster than he ever thought was possible. You were the light of his life. Until one faithful day that was all taken from him. Jake ran faster. Maybe if he focused on the pounding of his heart the pain would disappear.

Before he even realized it he was back in front of his door. The pilot heaved a sigh and headed inside. The house was still dark when he slipped into the shower. After a quick rinse he was pulling on his service khakis and hopping in the truck. The drive to base was around 20 minutes. Jake kept the radio off as he drove. When he finally pulled into the parking lot the sun had just begun to rise above the horizon. There was only one other car in the student section.

Jake walked through the long hallways before stepping into the classroom they were scheduled to be in today. Inside, he found the man and woman from the night before sitting next to each other. They were laughing quietly together, the woman’s hand resting on his arm. The second he walked into the room the pair quieted down. When Jake took his seat near the back of the room the man, Coyote, if he remembered correctly, approached him and slid into the chair next to him. He paid the man no mind, opening his journal and beginning to take down a few notes that he missed from the day before. “Hangman,” Coyote started, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Nice to see you again.” The blond pilot simply scoffed quietly.

This man seemed to love getting on Jake’s nerves. “What do you want?” Jake didn’t bother looking up at him. When the man beside him didn’t respond Jake’s eyes cut up to him. He raised a single eyebrow Jake sighed and leaned back in the chair. “Can I help you with something?” That seemed to snap the man out of his daydream. Jake’s breath caught when he saw that the man’s eyes were trained on his wedding band.

“About last night,” Jake could have punched his lights out over that sentence alone. Coyote could sense the man’s discomfort. “Look, I’m sorry,” He started. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed. He watched as the woman at the front of the classroom stood up from her seat. Checking the clock out of the corner of his eye he saw that they had around 30 minutes before class started. Why would she be leaving now? Before she left the room she leaned down next to Coyote and whispered something in his ear. He responded with a soft smile. He turned back to Jake before continuing. “I really didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

Jake watched him curiously. “It’s fine,” he dismissed. When the man didn’t move from his spot Jake came to realize something. Coyote wasn’t just apologizing, he was waiting for Jake to answer his question from last night. Instead of answering directly, he responded with one of his own. “How much did you put on this bet?” He could see Coyote’s mouth drop from the corner of his eye.

He stuttered slightly. Eventually, he cleared his throat and responded. There was a small smirk on his face as he spoke. “A significant sum.” Jake could hear the confidence oozing from his voice.

Nodding his head, Jake finished what he was writing before shutting his notebook. “You lost,” His voice was sharp and clipped. Coyote opened his mouth as if he was going to apologize when Jake cut him off. “You wanna know the truth?” He honestly didn’t know why he was going to tell this complete stranger one of his deepest secrets but something in his gut told him he could trust him. Coyote couldn’t help but nod softly. “I had a wife, and a child. And one day, just because some truck driver couldn’t keep his hands off his phone for 30 seconds I lost both of them.” Coyote instantly regretted ever asking in the first place. It was apparent to him now more than ever that this was not his place.

“She was on her way to the hospital,” Jake continued. “I was out of town, running a few errands and I was supposed to meet her there,” Jake’s eyes became watery. This was the first time that he had opened up about what happened to you. “She was going to have our baby,” A single tear trailed down his cheek. Jake wiped it away quickly. The man beside him continued to listen in silence. He could tell that Jake needed someone to talk to. “The truck came out of nowhere. It was speeding through the intersection and didn’t stop in time,” The blond's eyes drifted down to his wedding band. “I never got to see her or our baby again.”

Coyote could tell that Jake was finished with his story. All the teasing that he and Nat had been doing over the past few days suddenly made him want to vomit. He had made a game of a man’s personal life. He had made a game out of a man’s wife and child that had died in a horrible accident. Who does that? “I’m so sorry, man,” His voice was gentle, trying to soothe and not piss off the aviator in front of him. “I didn’t know.” Jake just nodded in response, wiping the remaining tears from his lashes.

That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. The pair had agreed to start over, Coyote deciding that maybe Jake wasn’t as bad as he seemed. Eventually Jake opened up more to Coyote, filling him in on personal details that no one else knew about him.

And now Coyote knew why Jake’s flying was so reckless. It wasn’t because he was cocky, or because he had a mission go sideways. It wasn’t even because he was flying against someone he would never be. Finally, someone had the real answer to the age-old rumour. And it wasn’t nearly close to anything that had been speculated. People would still gossip, but for now only one person knew the truth. The reason that Jake Seresin flew so recklessly, was because he had no reason not to. It was because, for nearly a year now, Jake Seresin had nothing to lose.

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

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notroosterbradshaw · 2 years

Text

The Relationship Experience - one

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

prologue

Nothing especially interesting happened between the hours of 4:45am to now, in fact, the whole day had been so slow since Rooster retrieved his dog tags. It was about 6:30pm and you hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t an entire surprise. He was at work; he didn’t have the luxury of the day off like you.

You were restless, so incredibly listless. After Rooster left, sleep didn’t come easily. Your brain couldn’t stop relaying the moments from the night before. By midday, you were buzzing on coffee and waning adrenaline. Tasks seemed impossible, all you managed was to remove your makeup and eat some bland toast. Everything felt out of flux and made you feel off-kilter, figuratively turned upside down.

You reckoned you had commenced and deleted at least 10 texts to Rooster to thank him again for yesterday, that you couldn’t stop thinking about his kiss, the way he touched you, that you were… absolutely infatuated with him.

What was most tragic was you couldn’t find the nerve to hit ‘send’ on absolutely any of them. In fact, you couldn't find the nerve to text anyone – not Natasha demanding how the night went; not your sister asking how you’d pulled up after such a big day; not the bride and groom thanking you and Bradley for your incredibly thoughtful wedding gift (how was it incredibly thoughtful if it was on a wedding registry, you’d never know but hey. They didn’t hate it) and that you must double date soon. Yeah, okay.

The most common thing you brought yourself back to while everything else spun around you?

What had Bradley Bradshaw done to you?

24 hours ago, you were fine, perfectly content with most aspects of your life with your strictly platonic friend, Rooster. And now? Not a single thing seemed to fit in its place.

At 7:01pm, your phone buzzed while you attempted the week’s lesson plans for yourself and your team, but little was coming to fruition. A little too eager, you knocked the phone directly off the bed and into the pile of yesterday’s still damp bridesmaid dress, rocketing you straight back to the dancefloor during the bridal waltz and the electricity of Rooster’s touch as he claimed your first dance together. God, he could move. The way he pulled your body to his, the gentle caress of his hands on your back. You could almost smell his cologne in the air –

Finding your phone, you saw another text from Natasha that simply said, ‘Please don’t make me call you. I hate talking on the phone. Just want to know Rooster didn’t murder you and leave you in a ditch x’

Confronting, you thought to yourself. It was time to give in.

You: I’m alive. Sorry, just working/planning the week’s lessons.

Natasha: Awesome, I’ll be there in 10. I have pizza, wine and I want every fucking detail from last night. Rooster is giving me absolutely nothing. Don’t be like Rooster. See you soon x

“Shit,” you muttered, still in your Lakers tee from this morning. You really should have made some kind of effort, realising if Rooster turned up unannounced – shit, you didn’t want to put that tragedy into the universe. Busting your ass, you ran for the shower and in record time, you’d washed your hair and ridded the rest of the last 36 hours off you as well.

Tossing on jeans and a tee over your bra and undies, you heard Natasha's relentless beating on the door. Dashing to it, you opened it to a very flustered, albeit adorable, Natasha Trace, pizza and wine in hand, as promised.

“You are the cutest delivery service ever,” you smiled, stepping out of the doorway and taking the pizza from her as she wandered in, rolling her deep brown eyes.

“I was about to smash a window in. You’ve been radio silent all goddamn day, I thought you were dead!” she huffed, casual and not dissimilar to yourself in blue jeans and a white tee, hair in a messy bun. “Respond. To. Texts,” she instructed. “Especially when I’m absolutely desperate to know what happened last night!” she added the last a little hysterically as you bit back a laugh.

"It was okay. My feet are still killing me. You know, I don't mind weddings," you told her, falling on the couch, tossing the pizza box on the coffee table as she went to the kitchen. You put some music on for some background noise. "I just don't like being in them,” you clarified.

“Imagining your wedding day...” Natasha teased.

“Don’t think we have much to worry about there,” you giggled.

Natasha smiled, wandering back with the glasses as you tuckered eagerly into a slice, not realising how hungry you were after forgoing most meals today. "I'm glad you had a good time; I've never seen anyone dread anything more. Rooster said he enjoyed himself."

His name off someone else’s tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your system.

"He seemed to," you shrugged, not wanting to talk too much about him for fear everything will come out. She took a seat beside you, unscrewing the wine and pouring a glass each.

“I’ll just take care of this too, huh?” she muttered as you apologised, a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

“Sow-ry,” you replied and swallowed, giving her a greasy smile. “I’m famished and this is so good.”

“I hope to find out myself,” she laughed quietly. “So, tell me everything. And don’t leave a fucking thing out because you are a terrible liar, and I will see right through it.”

Wide-eyed, you nodded, believing her. “Ask me anything, I guess?” you replied, frankly terrified of her for a moment.

"How was his suit? Details, immediately, if not sooner,” she asked calmly. Too calmly.

"Pretty good," you understated.

“Pix?”

“Uhh, no,” you replied. “There was some taken by the photographer, but it sincerely never crossed my mind to get any. Rooster and I didn’t pose for any.”

“You two are fuckin’ killing me!” she exclaimed as you shrugged, meekly.

From the moment Rooster had sauntered into the reception, you were both so wretchedly lost in each other to consider the small things like pix and you loathed how excited this conversation would be if you were just allowed to be honest. Natasha Trace was your friend, a really fucking good one, she knew you (and Rooster) well and read people even better. “Blue velvet jacket, dark slacks,” you frowned as she did too. “Cute bow tie.”

“Did you dance or, like, be wallflowers all night?” her voice trailed off.

“We danced a few times. He’s a good dancer,” you force-fed yourself more pizza while the wine breathed. How could you overstep the mark if you were stuffing your face? Couldn’t incriminate yourself if you simply couldn’t speak! Logic? Denial.

“Slow danced?” she wriggled her eyebrows as you laughed gently.

“Yes, we slow danced. He was very respectful, Carole raised him right.”

“Carole?”

“His mother,” you stood up and pointed to the photo on the wall that had Rooster so enamoured the night before.

“She’s really beautiful.”

“So beautiful.”

“Rooster looks nothing like her,” she studied the photo.

“No,” you grinned, plonking back down. “All his old man, even to the mo.”

“I honestly forgot how intrinsically linked you two are,” she said wistfully. “This whole thing of being friends for so long, then the classic fake relationship to save face at a wedding.”

And here it comes. “Nat…”

“You know the writing is clearly on the wall, right?” she told you, pulling at a string of mozzarella between her fingers. You felt completely transparent. She was daring you... and frankly, not having to try too hard.

“What do you mean?” you asked warily.

She plonked the cheese into her mouth and paused. “You know I’m a total romantic at heart.”

“Absolutely. What you’re doing with Bagman is baffling to me.”

“It’s only sex,” she rolled her eyes at you. “I’ve told you the rules.”

“And are you… following the rules?” you asked kindly. “Because initially, fucking Jake was a one-night thing… but now it’s like a weekly booty call on your whim. I cannot remember the last time he tried picking someone up in the bar. You wake up in each other’s beds - ” you reminded her thoughtfully.

“Bitch, you know I can dish it out, but I can’t take it,” she pretended to be sad, before blowing a raspberry and giving you the thumbs down.

“Have you said, ‘I love you’ yet?” you continued.

“We’re not talking about me, all right?” she cracked. “We’re talking about you and Bradshaw. You’re the goss tonight, not me and Bagman,” she scoffed at the mere mention of Jake’s name.

Giggling quietly, you nodded. “Okay, ask me. You know you want to…”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Natasha was so ready for this. You just gave her all the ammo she needed. "Did he... kiss you?" she leaned forward, elbows on knees, so eager. Pouting, you sighed, and her smile grew. "I fucking knew it!" she exclaimed. “He was far too quiet for his usual grandstanding.”

“But you can’t say anything!” you pleaded, pointing at her.

“Then tell me everything I need to know and I’ll make sure to – ” she zipped her lips. “Let’s start again. Suit?”

“It was really fuckin’ good,” you said, a little dreamy in memory, easing back lazily on the couch cushions. “I’ve never seen him sexier. I don’t think I even thought he was sexy before last night.”

“Oh, babe. Rooster is stupidly hot and I say this from a strictly platonic place,” she informed you. "He will lay you so good. How did you never see it?”

“I mean, yeah, he was always handsome. But his suit...”

“Had to be more than a suit.”

“You’re right. It was everything...”

Natasha’s smile was as dreamy as yours, so happy for you. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No,” you said, quickly. “Trust me when I say I tried. But he wasn’t having it.”

Frowning, maybe a little surprised, she asked, “Rooster? Rooster Bradshaw did not try to sleep with you?”

“No,” you said, subconsciously bringing back the embarrassment of earlier this morning. You still felt a little rejected and humiliated at how you threw yourself at Rooster, but Natasha didn’t seem to notice. Ew, you didn’t enjoy reliving it twice.

“You did bring the right guy home, right?”

You nodded, solemnly. “Yes. I completely threw myself at him,” you confided.

“And he still didn’t bone you?” she frowned.

“No,” you sipped the wine, barely tasting it. Fuck.

“Holy shit, that big oaf is in love with you,” she prophesied, thrusting her arms in the air in comprehension.

“What?” you shook your head. “Knock it off, Natasha.”

“Nah, he wants to wait, he is considering this,” she pondered aloud, clutching her wine glass to her heart. “He’s gonna take you to a romantic dinner in town, have fuckin’ rose petals strewn everywhere, candles. He’s gonna lay you down and make sweet, sweet love to you – ”

“When did my life turn into a 90’s music video?” you wondered as she laughed.

“Oh, my God, I’m so happy for you guys! I’m so happy for myself because I was right, but oh, wow. He’s in deep! Tell. Me. More,” she exchanged her glass for pizza, taking a satisfying bite. “Don’t leave anything out.”

“Natasha, Rooster was a new person to me last night. He was so charming and funny, and handsome. Oh, my word - so sexy. He took such good care of me. Whenever someone made me uncomfortable, he held my hand, rubbed my back, and played with my hair. Always something. He touched me all night."

“Tactile,” she nodded, impressed.

“So tactile, yes!" you said in revelation, the smell of the pizza calling to you as you chewed another bite. "His hands are amazing. Strong, comforting, you know?"

“I feel I knew Rooster was capable of these things," she admitted, slowly. "But actually hearing it, I still don't completely believe it. Is he a good kisser?" she shimmied, desperate for the answer.

“The best kisser,” you sighed, memories reverberating through your mind of his lips on yours, his tongue pressing against yours -

“And the moustache?” she gave a face that may or may not have said ‘ick’.

“Will take some time, but I didn’t hate it,” you confessed. “Natasha?”

She hummed. “Yes, my love?”

“It was the best night of my life,” you said quietly.

“Holy fuck, you’re in love with him too,” she realised, the pizza falling from her grasp back into the box.

“No, no,” you waved the notion away. You’d never fallen fast in your life, and this certainly wasn’t going to be one of those whimsical rom-com times. “I mean, I had a crush on him in high school, and this feels nothing like it.”

“You had a crush on him in high school?!” she screeched.

“I never mentioned that?” you asked meekly and for good reason - if anyone got a sniff of your teenage crush on Rooster Bradshaw, it would be on for young and old and your soul didn’t need that embarrassment in your life and he probably didn’t either.

“And I’m just learning this now?!.”

“The crush disappeared when he left for college. It’s no big thing,” you told her honestly.

And it really wasn’t.

“I didn’t see him for a few years, and then I went to college, and we didn’t see each other for a while until around the time I met you,” you shrugged. While you spent your childhood and teen years in similar circles, you really drifted after Rooster turned 18. Why wouldn’t you? He was growing up and following his dreams. You were too.

Grandpa encouraged you to study over East (Annie had mentioned he didn’t want either of you young, dumb and settled on some Navy dolt who managed to say the right things to you and keep you trapped when there was a whole world to see) and accept a swimming scholarship before you tried to figure your life out.

You’d swam all your life, competitively, you would teach as your summer job and after realising you weren’t the calibre required to swim professionally, passing your knowledge on seemed the next appropriate step. Swimming was a universal language, so you took a few courses and taught your way around th world for a while.

It wasn’t a big thing that Rooster fell out of your life.

“I remember the night I met you,” Natasha smiled fondly. “My God, you little cutie patootie. Was it Annie’s hen’s night? Bachelorette?”

“Same same.”

“And Rooster was definitely in town.”

“Yeah, I think he was,” you recalled faintly. “Wow, I haven’t been that drunk in a while,” you admitted. “Thank Christ.” Putting your head in your hands, you recalled only bits and pieces of that night. The rest was a blacked-out mystery. Probably for the best.

“Must be growing up,” she teased, raising her wine glass to you. “I’ve never seen you so happy in our entire friendship and I’m so, so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking her free hand and cuddling it to your cheek.

"You know, Rooster’s always been super into you, I can't believe I didn't set you two up earlier. I kind of regret it now."

"Nah,” you frowned, exchanging her cheek for your discarded pizza again.

"True story. I'd catch him watching you every once in a while, that way he immediately moves from his bar stool and ushers you in when you get to the bar. I'm not getting that treatment," she kind of huffed.

Holy shit, he did. Every time, he’d guide you with a gentle hand to your hip and you’d think absolutely nothing of it.

“He’ll always order you a beer and you’ll drink a mouthful to be polite because you hate it but he always finishes it.”

“It’s a beer bar,” you shrugged. “Wait, what? He finishes it?”

“He’s not going to waste perfectly good beer,” Natasha reasoned as your phone pinged. You pleaded it wasn’t him, this was not the time for Rooster to text. Not with Natasha here. You were already getting grilled, but a text from him would only make matters worse –

“‘Rooster’ and a Rooster, cute,” she smiled, holding up your phone. “‘Missed you today. Did you still wanna catch up or…’” she said verbatim. “And kiss you a little more. Maybe see what comes up,” she gyrated on the couch. “Do you want me to leave?”

“He said he was going to come over, but I haven’t heard from him all day. You were here first.”

“Aww,” she said, almost touched. “It’s okay, text him back. You get yourself laid.”

Rubbing your face, embarrassed, you replied, “Nat, I love you, but you need to calm down.”

She breathed. “You’re right, I do. My two best friends are totally in love and I need to be cool, calm and collected about it,” she smiled, putting the lid on the pizza. “I will go, but I’m taking the pizza with me.”

“Nooo,” you replied, grabby hands for at least another slice. Curious, now knowing Rooster had a few obvious tells about his feelings for you, you dared ask, “Nat, did I do anything?"

“For what?”

“Did I have any tells with Rooster?”

She shook her head with a gentle smile. "Nah, no one can get a read on you, baby," she winked. “But Rooster... He's quieter when you're around. When you're not there, he's one of the boys, a part of the pissing contest, you know?”

“Oh,” you tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. You didn't want him changing himself for you.

"Don't be offended," she continued. "I think it is just more respect, you know? You two have known each other for a long time. It’s sweet."

"Like Jake doesn't have for you?" you teased.

"Exactly. We're only fucking, we're not in a relationship. If he went soft on me, stopped challenging me, stopped trying to make me better, I'd dump his dumb ass."

“Kinda sounds like a relationship…” you dared as she put the cap back on the wine.

“And for that, I’m taking the wine too,” she huffed. “Bagman and I have ground rules,” she reiterated again.

“Of course, of course,” you nodded, playing along.

“The line won’t be crossed.”

“Who are you trying to convince?”

“And on that note, on a night that I was supposed to savage you, you’ve turned it onto me and now I’m just feeling attacked,” she huffed disappointment, her wine and pizza in her arms and heading towards the door.

“I really like him, Nat,” you said dismally as you both stopped at the door. “I don’t know him anymore and I need to know everything now,” you rambled.

Natasha gave a genuine smile, no more of that shit-eating, ‘I was right’ stuff. No more posturing. “I know. And I’m so happy for you. Because I think you and Rooster will be incredible together. You both deserve this,” she surprised you with a hug. “And if he hurts you, I can actually kill him. Goodnight, fuck safe,” she instructed.

“Jesus Christ,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Go fall a little more in love with Bagman,” you sighed, pushing her gently out of the apartment. “Pretend when you head to his room that the pizza and wine was for you guys the whole time.”

She cackled on the way back to her car. “Fuck him, this pizza and wine are mine!”

“Sure,” you called after her, waiting for her to get back to her car. She waved once and drove away. You closed the door, collecting your thoughts. Okay, so you and Rooster had absolutely no idea where you stood but you practically praised the ground he walked on to Natasha, so she knew. Good. You hated secrets. Not that you tried very hard to keep this one. She broke you incredibly quickly.

Wandering back to the couch, you found your phone and sat down, tucking your legs under you, anxious to respond to Rooster and potentially see him soon.

You: I thought you’d forgotten about me… come over anytime x

“No, you fucking loser,” you deleted the text you were about to send and tried again.

You: I’m home.

Hitting send, you added a quick “xx” to the next text to make it seem less cold than you intended. You groaned. “You are such a fucking idiot.”

Rooster 🐓: What about 8? I’m just getting in. Long day.

You: Anytime xx

two.

masterlist.

a/n: gotta say, party crew, with engagement way down, I’m unlikely to keep a schedule for this series. thank you to those who comment and reblogged, you’re the true mvp’s. know that I see every one of them, and you absolutely move me x

#notroosterbradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x oc #rooster x female reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster fanfic #rooster fluff #rooster imagine #top gun fanfiction #hannix #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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imawkwardlysoc · 1 year

Text

"only bought this dress so you could take it off"

Song: Dress by Taylor Swift

Pairing: bob floyd x reader (afab)

Warning(s): Allusions to smut (not written) & Aftercare

Word Count: 1,913

Summary: Y/N had just moved to Miramar and was invited to the Navy Ball in San Diego by her roommate. Soon when the both of them arrived, Y/N was met with a face she hasn't seen in a long time.

Backing away from the full length mirror, I admired the dress I picked out a few days ago. The muted gold beaded dress hugged my waist in all the right ways. With it being off the shoulder and a sweetheart neckline, it showed the right amount of chest without it being too scandalous.

“Wow, you look amazing.” I looked over to see my roommate, Natasha, entering my room.

“Are you sure? I mean is this appropriate for a naval ball?” I turned to face her.

“Yes, all heads will turn to you when you enter the ballroom,” she reassured me. “Who knows? Maybe a navy man will approach you and you end up going on a date with him, but if it’s Hangman, straight up reject him.”

I laughed at what she said. “Nat, I just moved here two weeks ago, I’m not looking for a relationship yet.”

Ever since I moved to San Diego two weeks ago, I’ve been more focused on my teaching job. I work at the local high school near a navy base as a science teacher. I was hired when the school year already started so I've been catching my students up since the substitute teacher they had barely got them learning.

“Well, the Lyft is almost here, you should finish getting ready,” she told me before leaving my room.

Slipping on a pair of gold heels, I grabbed my clutch and double checked the inside to see if I had all of the things I needed. Closing it, I walked out of my room and walked out of the house with Natasha after she locked the front door. Getting into the car, our driver started to drive us to the US Grant hotel.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine,” Natasha squeezed my hand. “All of the Dagger Squad is going to love you.”

We soon pulled up to the hotel and saw a bunch of naval higher ups in their uniforms with their plus ones. I’m pretty sure that I also saw some politicians entering the hotel. Natasha and I soon walked in and headed to the ballroom entrance where we showed our identifications along with invites.

When we walked in, I started to feel overwhelmed. Many members of the Navy and their plus ones filled the room while a live band played music.

“Oh, I see them!” Natasha started to drag me to where her friends were. “Guys, meet Y/N.”

I was soon met with two dark skinned men, one with a buzzcut, another one with a somewhat porno mustache, and one who looked like a real life Ken doll. She soon started to introduce me to them with their actual names and call signs. More of the members came and I was introduced to them along with her captain and his husband.

“Guess who finally showed up,” Jake announced. “How long does it take to get a soda?”

“Y/N, meet-” I looked over to see who came and I froze.

“Robbie?” His name fell out of my mouth.

“Y/N? Is that you?” He asked.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long.” I walked up and hugged him.

“It has.” He returned my hug.

“Wait, is this the Robbie you told me about?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah,” I nodded my head.

“Are we missing something here?” Mickey asked.

“Yeah, did you and Baby on Board used to have a thing or?” Jake asked.

“Baby on Board?” A confused look formed on my face when I heard the name he gave Robbie.

“No, we used to be childhood friends back in North Carolina,” Robbie explained.

“Yeah we’ve lived in the same neighborhood until I had to move to Arizona because my dad got a new job,” I nodded and pointed to Natasha. “That’s where I met Natasha.”

“And we’ve been inseparable until we had to leave for college.” Nat wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It took me some convincing to get her to move down here.”

“Well, I had to finish both of my masters,” I told her.

“Two masters?” Admiral Kazansky raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, one in mechanical engineering and one in physics, but I also have a teaching credential for physics.” I smiled proudly.

“Do you mind if we continue this conversation while I get myself another drink?” The admiral asked me.

“I don’t mind at all Admiral,” I answered while linking arms with him.

While on our walk to the bar, he started asking me questions about my studies and why I double majored. I also talked about my time studying my undergrad at Cal Poly and getting my masters/teaching credential at the University of San Francisco.

Throughout our conversation, I glanced at the other side of the room to see Robbie talking to some of his squadron members. We would send each other a smile if we made eye contact with each other.

Soon a familiar tune filled my ears and the room. Placing my drink down on the bar, I faced the admiral.

“Excuse me sir, but I have to do something,” I excused sir.

“It’s no problem, also call me Tom.” He smiled and I nodded my head.

Hurrying myself to the other side of the room, I made my way to where Robbie was. When I saw him leaning against the wall as he listened to his friends, a smile came onto our faces as lyrics started to echo through the room. Handing his drink to Ruben, I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the dance floor as Come On Eileen played. (A/N I just imagine the dance scene in Perks of Being a Wallflower) We started to do the dance routine that we created when we were kids whenever this song played through the stereo. We continued to dance to the song and sang out the lyrics.

“Wow, it’s been a while since we last did that,” I caught my breath after he dipped me and we moved to a slow dancing position.

“I’m surprised that we still remember it,” he chuckled.

“After the amount of times we perform this dance in front of our families, I would be surprised if we don't remember the moves,” I looked up at him.

He still had the same face from what I remembered as a little kid, but it was more defined. He was still the shy and reserved kid that I knew of as I grew up.

“Hey, wanna head out?” He whispered in my ear which sent chills down my spine.

“Sure,” I agreed.

He led me off the dance floor and went to his squad.

“It’s been great meeting you all. I hope we get to see each other again,” I told everyone.

They all said their goodbyes and Robbie and I left the hotel ballroom. As Robbie and I waited for the valet to bring his wrangler around, I felt him put his coat over my shoulders and wrapped his arm around them. Leaning against him, I looked up at him and gave a smile. Soon the wrangler was pulled up and he helped me into the car. Getting into the driver’s seat, he closed the door and untied the tie he was wearing.

During the drive to Natasha and I’s house, we were sharing stories and memories from our childhood. He also explained the reason why Jake called him Baby on Board sometimes. I laughed at the stories that he had with his crew. I guess he’s glad that he’s permanently stationed here with his crew.

Pulling up in front of the house, he got out of the driver’s seat and helped me out of the car. Walking me up to the door, we stood there for a moment, waiting to see what happens next.

“Thanks for taking me home,” I thanked him.

“No problem, it’s nice seeing you again,” he smiled. “You look beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you,” I looked down at the ground and blushed.

I soon felt his fingers touch my chin and moved my head to face him. Don’t know the reason why but I started to feel my heart begin to race as my stomach fluttered. Leaning my head in as his did, our lips touched and moved. It continued for a few more seconds as it got more passionate until we detached, looking at each other with a blush on our faces.

“Did that just?” I asked.

“Yeah, it did,” he nodded his head.

“Well, I should head in now,” I told him and grabbed my house key from my clutch.

Unlocking it, I pushed open the door and walked into the house without closing the door. I tossed my clutch on the kitchen island and started my walk down the hallway to my room. Hearing the sound of Robbie’s footsteps entering the house, I looked over my shoulder a little and gave him a wink. Entering my room, I took off my heels and started to unzip the back of my dress.

“Need help with that?” I heard Robbie’s voice enter my room.

“Please,” I answered despite me not needing any help.

Chills were sent throughout my body as I felt his breath hit my neck as he slowly unzipped my dress. I bit the inside of my lip as he started to place kisses down my neck. With my dress off, leaving me in my undergarments, I turned and started to kiss him as he led me to my bed.

*Aftercare*

Tangled up in my bed sheets, Robbie laid flat on his back while I laid my head on his chest. One of his arms wrapped around my waist while the other drew circles on my thigh.

“Imagine if we told younger us that we’ll be in this situation,” I chuckled, looking up at him.

“I feel they would be grossed out,” he let out a laugh. “I miss this, I miss us hanging out with each other.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “It sucked that we weren’t able to keep in contact with each other.”

He nodded his head and hummed in agreement. “But hey, we got to see each other again even though it took over ten years.”

“True,” I laughed.

“I know I already said that you look beautiful but that dress on you is amazing,” he complimented me.

“Well, I should buy that dress in other colors if it makes you do this,” I smirked as I gestured to us in bed.

“Nah, anything you wear can make me feel like this,” he placed a kiss on my lips.

“This isn’t going to affect our friendship right?” I asked him.

“I already lost you once, not losing you again,” he said while pulling me closer to him.

I smiled and laid my head on his chest letting out a yawn. Closing my eyes, I drifted off to sleep.

*The Morning After*

Opening my eyes, I looked over to see Robbie still sleeping. Smiling to myself and last night’s events, I quietly got out of bed and threw on his dress shirt. Walking out of my room, I walked down the hall to the kitchen to see Natasha standing there with a cup of coffee and a smirk on her face.

“So, my backseater huh?” She asked.

“Shush,” I blushed a little while pouring myself a cup of coffee.

“Hey, just saying he’s a really good guy but you already know that,” she told me.

Soon we heard footsteps revealing Robbie in his boxers and hair disheveled.

“Yeah, he really is.”

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

Text

5 + 1

Top Gun: Maverick - Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x f!pilot reader (callsign: Fallbeil)

4.4k || 5 times Bob remembers your little quirks and habits, and 1 time you remember his.

===

Genre: Fluff, crushing, love confessions

CW: mentions of drinking, swearing

Author’s Note: Bob is such an acts of service kind of person - I can feel it deep in my soul. Also, I thought the idea of him ending up with someone who has a scary ass callsign like Guillotine (which is Fallbeil in German) despite him being a cinnamon roll would be the funniest thing in the world. || cross-posted on ao3

===

The first time you noticed something was because Hangman had that stupid ass look on his face again. That same one he always had, the only one he had in all honesty. The one that, recently, only ever seemed to be directed at you and that pissed you off most of all.

“What?” He asked, but the smirk pulling his lips back into the stupid, smug fucking smile told you clearly: he knew exactly what.

“Leave her alone, Bagman. I’m not in the mood today,” Rooster said, and you could tell he meant it. HIs voice sounded surprisingly tired considering mornings were his prime time of existence. Maverick insisted on calling these meetings earlier and earlier, chinking away at everyone's stability, and it was proving to be too much for even the earliest of risers.

Hangman scoffed, pressing his hand to his chest, and feigning offense. “Why am I always the bad guy? What if today was the day Fallbeil finally snapped and did something to me instead?”

You rolled your eyes. “If I snapped, you wouldn’t be holding a conversation with me. Your head wouldn’t even be attached to your body.”

“Living up to your name as always, doll.”

Rooster slid into one of the empty chairs at the conference table, slapping down a notebook, and turned to look at you. “I’ll punch him if you want.”

“I’m perfectly capable of throwing my own punches, thank you.” The look on Rooster’s face said he didn’t trust you not to take it too far.

“And coffee mugs.” Hangman glanced over his shoulder; eyes trained on the spot where a cracked, open travel cup lay open. Opened and spilled, everywhere. “Which I managed to dodge.”

“Try to dodge my-” but your insult was cut short by Rooster saying, “Coffee? You hate coffee.”

You set your lips in a thin, embarrassed line. “He told me that it was tea.”

“And you believed him?” Rooster snorted.

You slunk back into your chair, crossing your arms with a pout. “It’s early! I’m basically the walking dead right now, birdbrain.”

As with every mission of this sheer level of importance, your anxiety had been too great to let you sleep. Usually Bob or Phoenix or Rooster, the early risers of the group, would be up to go for a job or hit the gym with you. You were up well before all of them today and had taken it upon yourself to go for a run, shower, and be painfully early to this briefing. You had hoped Bob would be the first one there, he typically was, but the universe was out to get you because instead of those sweet, doe eyes behind some thick-lensed glasses all you got was a stupid pair of lips messing with a toothpick.

“Don’t be too hard on, Rooster.” Phoenix called out, walking into the hangar with Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote in tow. “I already smoked him during our run this morning. He’s fragile.”

Before Rooster could get all up in arms or Hangman could jump on a moment of vulnerability, Maverick walked in. He had his way to the head of the table while everyone else found their seats. “Good morning, everyone.” Tired, disjointed voices repeated the sentiment, pulling a smile onto Mav’s face. “I see we’re all ready for a busy day. What do you say we get started?”

“Sorry, I’m late, sir!” Bob’s voice comes from behind you. “I couldn’t find the kettle.”

Kettle, you thought to yourself, but Maverick just waved for him to sit down and continued talking. Before Bob headed over to the only open seat, by Hangman of all people, he placed a small cup of tea in front of you without a word. In your favorite mug, too. You brought it up to your lips to taste it… and it was perfect. Exactly the way you liked it.

‘Thank you,’ you mouthed at him after he sat down. Bob just nodded and focused his attention on Maverick. You did the same, not even registering that he didn’t have a cup of anything for himself.

–

The second time you noticed something nice Bob did for you was during poker night. Fanboy and Payback had decided tempting fate and coming out the other side had bonded you all for life. A point any of you could hardly disagree with. That mission was not something any of you were supposed to come back from. So, the idea of a movie night had been tossed around, but Payback always tried to guess the endings and Hangman tried to outdo the one-liners and Rooster just had to know if he knew that actor from another movie - needless to say, movie nights were shelved very fast.

Then the idea of bar hopping came about, followed by karaoke night, followed by trivia night. Each of which ended up in all of you spending too much money on booze and drunkenly embarrassing yourselves with horrible vocals or blatantly wrong answers to obscure history questions. You all settled on the idea of a game night. It seemed to work well enough. A ‘family’ dinner followed by a board game. Except for the fact that Payback instead of placing bets no matter if it was CandyLand or Monopoly, which Coyote would double, and Hangman would triple. Leaving you all spending just as much money as you had at the bar.

It was Bob who brought up the idea of having poker nights. Something with betting already designed into it so that none of you had to worry about emptying your bank accounts at the end of the night. That was the problem with setting elite competitors against one another, they never knew when to quit.

You’d all been kept relatively close to TOPGUN, usually stationed a few hours away max. Months where distance wasn’t a problem, you all tried to meet once a week. If one of you weren’t stateside, then once a month worked just fine. Six months into poker nights so far and you’d been able to have at least one every month. Every time the list of things to bring shifted down a person, so that each time a new person would be in charge of chips or appetizers or the main entree, etc. It was a system that worked with military precision.

Until the one time it didn’t.

Bob was the last through the door of Payback’s small apartment. At least, it looked small with so many people crammed in there. “Here, I got special plates this time.” He raised them high above his head like a prize. Large, sturdy, and compartmentalized. Like the trays you’d get in the mess hall or for a school lunch.

The statement caused immediate uproar.

“I was on plates and napkins!” Coyote said around a mouthful of sour cream and onion chips, brought by yours truly. And Hangman started making comments about how if no one was going to follow the list, then he wasn’t going to either.

“You weren’t in charge of plates, Bob!” Fanboy tried his best not to get too worked up over it. He had created a spreadsheet of everyone’s responsibilities. Verifying everyone knew their roles was his main role in making sure this whole operation ran smoothly. “Please tell me you still brought dessert.”

“I’ve got dessert. My grandma came out this weekend and made a peach cobbler.”

The mention of his grandma’s baking ensured the pitchforks and torches were put away, for now. That woman had godly skills in the kitchen. You would gladly sit down and eat an entire cobbler of hers by yourself in one sitting.

Coyote, still hurt by his duty being impeded on, asked, “So then what are the plates for?”

“Fallbeil doesn’t like when her food touches,” Bob said as though it were the most common knowledge in the world. “You guys always insist on getting plates that are way too small.”

He set down the plates on the counter, followed by the pie, and went to take off his shoes and didn’t bring anything like that up again for the rest of the night.

–

The third time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was a day he had to leave early. A helicopter was coming to pick him and Phoenix up to take them overseas. Just for a few days, or so said those in charge, and you knew how easily a few days could change to a few weeks to a few months.

The thought of possibly not seeing them for a while aggravated you. It meant being stuck on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest shore without your two best friends. You’d known what you were signing up for when you first started. The military liked to keep their secrets. At any moment you could be swept away for a mission, but it still felt unfair when you woke up only to realize that your wingwoman and her WSO are replaced by strangers.

Back soon, take care.

Not signed but the handwriting was so obviously Bob. Cursive with careful, purposeful loops. Hangman tried to tear him apart for taking so much care in his notes during the pre-briefs before the uranium mission. The insults died out fast once everyone realized he had chicken scratch for handwriting. Funny how spreading a rumor Hangman deserved the callsign Rooster over Bradley could put him in his place so quickly.

Back soon, take care.

You stared at the sticky note, so carefully pressed against the outside of your locker. It was easy to imagine the conversation among him and Phoenix.

“I’m leaving her a note.”

“She’ll be fine, Bob. We’ve got to go.”

“Four words.”

He’d gotten into the habit of leaving sticky note updates in between lengthy letters. They held more emotion than an email or text, and you found that you liked it more than digital words on a screen. You could trace your fingers over each letter. Pretend as though he were pressed up in the seat next to you like when you’d go to the Hard Deck on a busy night and everyone would shove together in a few booths. A closeness you’d found yourself longing for in all moments spent together despite there being no reason for the two of you to share an armchair in the common room.

You had crushes before. A few relationships littered your history of schooling, but you, like many others who had graduated from TOPGUN, assumed the sky was to be your first and only love. And then Bob showed up with his quiet, gentle ways and your heart would soar every time he walked into a room. There were days you went without talking, but you could count on some kind of a note to be waiting for you on your door or waiting for you on the control of your jet.

Reminders that he was thinking of you. The way a best friend would. Surely. That’s all it had to be. No sense in constructing something out of nothing. Something that could wreck this perfect routine the two of you had created in one another’s lives.

You peeled the sticky note off the front of your locker to place inside, out of harm's way. Your finger traced each letter. It was likely he and Phoenix were off somewhere with Coyote or Rooster or Hangman doing something far more dangerous than the intelligence patrol you’d been assigned to. As you swung open your locker, you wished you’d had enough sense to write him a letter before he’d left. Something reminding him and Phoenix to be safe, but you hadn’t known he was leaving. You hadn’t even let the thought cross your mind.

“Oh, Bob,” you sighed.

A smile tugs its way onto your face. He’d left a mug in your locker. Not filled with tea this time, but with pens and highlighters and all your favorite stationary to use on your paperwork. You usually had a pencil case with you filled with pens that flowed smoothly and didn’t smudge or highlighters that didn’t bleed through the page.

He must have packed extra in his bag in case you’d forgotten that pencil case, which you had. But that wasn’t the best part. Somehow he’d managed to keep a rose alive and blooming to stick amongst the stationary. For, what it seemed to you, the sole purpose of making you smile.

–

The fourth time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was at Coyote’s birthday cookout. You were running late. Very late. More late than you’d ever been in your whole life to a point that you would have turned around if you could have, but you had been stuck on a highway without an exit for miles on end. The need to pee had never been stronger.

Stuck in the literal sense. Construction fed into traffic fed into cars stopping for no reason at all fed into fender benders fed into your frustration. “Please just move!” You shouted at the trail of brake lights in front of you. All you had to do was make it to the next exit two miles away.

But no one met your frustrated request. Instead, the standstill continued. You were destined to never arrive at this party. It had been weeks since you’d seen everyone together in one spot. Poker night had been postponed to tomorrow. Bound to be a dismal affair of hangovers and stale chips left out in bowls overnight. A slice of heaven on earth. Though, you would say that for just about anything if it meant being released from a fucking prison of a car.

Your phone went off. The distinct sound of big band music filling your car. Bob’s ringtone.

“Where are you?” His voice came through the other line at the same moment you shouted, “I want to rip my head off!”

An amused chuckle filled your car which only caused you to fume further. “I’m serious, Robert. This two-hour drive has become four- maybe five. I lost count when I had to come to a full and complete stop for the three millionth time today. It would be so much easier if Coyote had a runway in his backyard. Then I could just fly there-”

“Fallbeil,” Bob cut in, “are you almost here?”

“I’m a mile from my exit. I should be there in twenty. If I’m allowed to take my foot off the brake for more than a few seconds.” You let out a loud groan. “I’m going to stop at a gas station because I think my bladder might explode. So expect me in thirty actually-”

Bob laughed and spoke once more, saving you from yet another breathless tangent. “I’m excited to see you.”

You smiled to yourself. Grinning at the stopped cars in front of you like an idiot. “Yeah?”

“Have I ever not been?”

“I’m excited to see you too.” You could envision Bob’s own shy grin. No, you couldn’t hear the sounds of the party going on around him. He had closed himself off alone in a room to talk to you, which would mean the smile would be big and beaming. “Coyote enjoying himself?”

“I think he might have cried when Natasha put on the birthday playlist she made for him.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Good?” Bob laughed. “She’s elite at it.” Then, after a moment of comfortable silence fell over the two of you he said, “Want me to stay on the phone until you show up?”

If it were a normal poker night, you would have jumped on the offer. Phone calls with Bob had become a staple in that routine in one another’s lives. Letters and notes were not nearly enough to tide the two of you over. But today was a special occasion.

“No,” you told him. “I’ll be there soon.” He deserved to go enjoy the party. Not be tied up in a phone call where you were bound to blow your lid if the car in front of you did not speed up.

“Be careful. Drive safe.” The line clicked.

Be careful, you turned the words over in your head wondering what they would sound like punctuated with a kiss every morning when you headed out the door.

You turned down Coyote’s street, knowing exactly what you’d find. Cars taking every spot. Coyote was the most popular out of the crew. Charming personality, willingness to help everyone so much as passing by, and good looks. The combination needed for a party of the century.

And the shouts of excitement that flowed from his backyard told you just that was happening. Without you, and it would continue to go on without you if you couldn’t find an open spot to park. Bob waited at the end of Coyote’s packed driveway, hands stuffed into his jeans. A surprising amount of muscle strained beneath the button up shirt he wore to every part. More cars shoved onto the asphalt and spilled over onto the lawn.

Bob waved, waited patiently for you to park the car in the middle of the street, and then came around to the driver's side of the car. “Hey,” he said as he popped open your door. “How was the drive?”

You shot him a look. One that immediately set that bright, beautiful smile on his face. “Funny.”

“Here, get out.”

“What?”

“Get out. Go inside and say hi.” He leaned over to unbuckle you and the scent of his cologne tickled your nose. “I have a plate of food for you in the oven, on low so it stays warm. There’s one in the fridge too with the cold stuff.”

“Bob-”

“They’re all separated.” He waved you out of the car, grabbing your hand to help, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Fallbeil.”

You saw him again ten minutes later because he had to park two blocks away and walk back.

–

The fifth time you really noticed Bob going out of his way for you was a few months into the two of you moving in together. Solely as roommates, two best friends making the most of a perfect situation. Rent was going up, you had an extra room, and Bob had just gotten hired as an instructor at TOPGUN. The timing couldn’t have been better.

In truth, nothing could be better. The two of you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. Bob with his early habits. Having tea on the table for you alongside the crossword section of the newspaper he insisted on reading every morning. The hardest word always filled in as a starting point. He’d saved you the frustration of straining your mind over a word you couldn’t have dreamed up in the wildest corners of your imagination.

The preference over sticky notes as communication over texts still remained the same. Left on the mirror in your shared bathroom always signed with “be careful” or “take care.” Sometimes there is nothing of importance to say, but Bob would write those two words anyway as a reminder.

You’d leave voicemails if it was something that needed your immediate attention - talking on the phone to Bob became a bright spot in your week. You tried your hardest to leave them only for emergencies but hearing his voice every day had spoiled you. Sometimes your mind would lock on something you would absolutely have to tell him. Then you would find yourself pulling out your phone, typing in his number, and putting it away with a great sigh. You had planes to fly, he had students to teach, and the torture of being apart for a few hours each day made returning home to him all the sweeter. Returning home to movie nights or long walks on the beach or stories of students who remind Bob of each member of the Dagger Crew.

Phoenix would crash often when she got called back to TOPGUN, and Bradley hung around often enough seeing that Mav and Penny had made their lives here. Everyone cycled through at some point. Even Hangman had a welcome place on your couch if he ever needed it.

There was one night Jake had spent the night. Out of the blue and completely inconvenient as was the case with Hangman, but he offered to cook dinner while the two of you were at work and you came home to a good meal and surprisingly good company. What a sight to see the three of you laughing at a small table.

You hadn’t minded Hangman staying over. Though he did scare the shit out of you when he knocked on your door and let himself into your room to talk. “You know he likes you,” he had said, perched on the corner of your bed with that same stupid ass look on his face that meant trouble. “I think he might even be in love with you.”

“Bagman-”

“Hey, I come in here to tell you some life-altering news and you start with insulting me.” Hangman had let out a low whistle. “Think about it, Fallbeil.”

“What if it ruins everything? We’re doing so well.”

“What if it changes everything for the better?”

You hadn’t expected those words to play in your head as often as they did when Hangman finally left. It had been weeks since you’d last seen him. Poker night was tonight. He was hosting, and you had a feeling he was going to corner you with all sorts of questions as to if you’d made a move on Bob yet. A foolish notion. Bob might not be a skittish dog, but making a move on him still might cause spontaneous combustion. You were just trying to figure out which one of you it would be.

What could be the right time to tell your best friend and roommate that you loved him? That you have always wanted to be more?

You thought it over as you wiped sleep from your eyes and made your way into the bathroom. Bob had left earlier than usual this morning. It was a test day for the students and he was nothing if not prepared. Likely that kind, painfully chirpy teacher in the early hours of the day.

There was a sticky note on the mirror. As expected. Longer than usual. Unexpected.

Took your car this morning. Saw you needed an oil change. Be home late, then he can head to Bagman’s. Hope that’s okay. My keys are on the counter. Be safe. Love you.

You traced those last two words with the tip of your finger. It was the first time he’d added those two words.

And they fit so naturally on the note. Like they always belonged there.

–

The one time (the first time) you realized you were going out of your way to do things because you loved Robert Floyd when you went into the mall with a head full of ideas to get for Rooster’s birthday and came out twenty minutes later with one thing. One thing not for Rooster.

A model plane for Bob. Before he’d gotten so overwhelmed with his responsibilities at TOPGUN to cease having many hobbies, he’d built model planes. It’s what had gotten him into a love of planes. At least, that’s what he had told you one night at the Hard Deck, when the two of you were shoved up against one another.

Growing up in a small midwestern farm town didn’t give him many chances growing up to be around planes, but he’d watch the ones that flew over crops with rapt interest. He memorized flight patterns, sat alongside fields, and watched them every chance he got. Then, in the late nights where he only had his imagination to keep him company, Bob built model planes and memorized their histories.

“I’ve always wanted to be around planes.” He had slurred the words a bit back then. One too many sips of beer between handfuls of peanuts. “I kept them around me as much as I could.”

You hadn’t been able to figure out how crop planes became fighter jets in his history, but more stories came out as the two of you moved in together. Dismissive comments about school bullies. Talks about how he knew he wasn’t the strongest, but had always felt the need to prove himself. It seemed to fit into this idea people created of him - always a bit behind the rest. You respected him for sticking to what people told him he couldn’t do and making a name for himself in spite of it all.

And you loved that he trusted you enough to bring you in on those hobbies of his. Building fighter jets in the low light of desk lamps and night lights. Reminding you of the purpose of each piece. Telling the history of each plane. But your favorite part of all was when the two of you would build a jet you were flying and he would include all your statistics, everything you’ve accomplished, and, when you caught him in rare form, things Bob imagined you would do that would etch your name into the very fabric of history.

“Did you get a present for Bradley?” He asked, hearing the click of the door behind you. There was a rag thrown over his shoulder. Bob turned to face you with a smile. In the midst of cooking, glasses slightly fogged from whatever it was he was cooking, and your heart couldn’t take it.

“N-no,” you said, tripping up on your words. “I, um, I forgot.”

“But on the phone you said you couldn’t wait to show me what you got?” He tilted his head, watching as you kicked off your shoes, and placed your shopping bag on the table. “I hope you’re not trying to sign your name onto my gift, Fallbeil. I spent three months finding a vintage record of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ for him.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “No, Robert, I will not steal credit for your gift. He’ll know it’s from you anyway.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “I got something for you instead.”

Bob’s brows scrunched in confusion. “Me, but it’s Bradley’s birthday?”

You pulled the model F-18 from the bag and held it out towards him. Your hands shook slightly. Silly considering the two of you were always going out of your way to do things for each other. Plates and oil changes and parking cars. Small things. Nothing as momentous as a declaration of pure understanding of one another.

He said your name with a softness you’d never heard before. As though he were praying.

“I love you.” You said it at the same time as him. And the words fell so naturally from both your lips. Like they always belonged there.

===

ask and you shall receive (taglist): @whoeverineedtobe @dhwanishah09

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hederasgarden · 2 years

Text

All The Right Moves

Summary: Your day takes a turn for the better when you meet not one but two cute Navy Pilots at the hospital. Pairing: Natasha “Phoenix” Trace x F!Reader x Robert “Bob” Floyd Word Count: 1.8K Ratings: Gen. AU, fluff, awkwardly charming Bob, a very direct Phoenix and some flirting. Brief mention of some superficial injuries Phoenix and Bob have. A/N: In this AU Bob and Phoenix have known each other since they went to Top Gun together and have had a casual thing going on whenever they see one another. This story is based on an anon ask I received. It takes place in the same universe as Follow the Leader but occurs first. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

Walter trots happily alongside you in the hallway of the hospital. He’s wearing his bright red therapy dog vest and his nose twitches as he takes in all the exciting scents. The hospital staff you pass stop to pet him and share a few words with you. You’re both well known around here, spending long hours comforting patients and their families in the summertime after school’s out and you aren’t bogged down with teaching.

Today you’re visiting one of the quieter floors. Several of the rooms you pass are empty. You find Macy at the nurses' station. She grins when she sees you, bending down to ruffle Walter’s golden fur and baby talk to him about what a good boy he is. Walter's tail smacks noisily against her desk and he offers her a lick in greeting.

“Where should we start today?” You ask.

“We have a few navy pilots in house who were involved in a crash,” she tells you, standing up and brushing dog hair from her blue scrubs. “Nothing major but they seem like they could use a pick me up. I’d start with 305. The guy in there is an absolute sweetheart.”

“We are on it!” You promise, gently tugging on the leash to get him to follow you.

You knock on 305, hearing a muffled invitation to come in. The man on the bed is about your age and looks a little worse for wear with a cut on his forehead and a split lip. He’s wearing the standard hospital gown that does no one any favors, yet he somehow manages to look adorably handsome. You introduce yourself and Walter and ask if he'd like company.

"Me?" He questions, glancing behind him to the empty bed.

"Unless you have a friend hiding in the bathroom," you joke, charmed when the tips of his ears turn red.

“No ma’am. It’s just me.” He pauses, looking at Walter. “I do love dogs.”

“Well Walter loves people, you’re going to make a great pair,” you tell him warmly, walking around the bed to take a seat on the chair next to him. It's only now that you're closer that you realize his glasses are cracked.

You tap the bed and Walter rests his two front paws next to the man’s hip, waiting to be petted.

“I’m Robert,” he says. “But uh, everyone calls me Bob.”

You watch him stroke Walter’s head gently, a little half-smile on his face as he continues to pet your dog.

“It’s nice to meet you, Bob."

Walter barks, his own way of introducing himself, and you both laugh as he gets more insistent, nuzzling and licking Bob’s face for attention. Behind you, the heart monitor beeps steadily, its intensity lower than when you first came in.

“How are you feeling?” You ask Bob. “Heard you were in a crash.”

“Pretty good considering,” he tells you, meeting your eyes briefly before looking back at Walter.

You can feel him watching you again a moment later but keep your attention focused on your dog, sensing Bob might be a little shy. The few pilots you met before were borderline assholes who loved to hear themselves talk. Bob seems incredibly sweet and down to earth.

“Being a pilot for the Navy must be pretty exciting,” you continue.

“Oh, well I’m just a Wizzo, ma’am.” When you look blankly at him he clears his throat and ducks his head. “Sorry, it stands for weapon systems officer. My partner Phoenix does all the fancy flying.”

“That’s still very impressive,” you tell him.

“Oh, you uh, must impress easy then,” he jokes, glancing up at you.

There's a nervous little line in his brow that doesn't disappear until you laugh. He gives you a real smile then and it lights up his whole face, highlighting just how handsome he actually is. His dark blue eyes meet yours before glancing away only to return again a moment later.

Was he flirting with you?

Your chest warms unexpectedly at the thought, but a current of nervous energy also rips through your body. You shift in the hospital chair, sitting up a little straighter and brushing off a clump of dog hair clinging to your light blue shirt. Suddenly you wish you’d put a little more effort into your appearance today.

“I’ll have you know I have high standards,” you say, tilting your head to look at him with a grin. “Isn’t that right, Walter?”

Your dog barks and wags his tail happily while you scratch his rump. Whatever Bob’s about to say gets interrupted by his phone dinging with a message notification.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, picking it up. Whoever the text is from makes him smile softly. He types a quick reply, looking at you briefly before setting it face down on the table. “Walter seems like he might be biased,” Bob notes, amused.

“That's a heavy accusation. Impugning poor Walter’s credibility, Bob,” you tease, touching his arm briefly.

“I get it,” he whispers to Walter, scratching his chin and making your dog groan happily. “I’d probably be biased too.”

A little thrill zips along your spine when Bob looks up at you and holds your gaze. This time it’s you who looks away, tapping your fingers against your thigh. You chew the inside of your cheek, trying to work up the courage to ask if he wants to join you for coffee after he gets discharged. There weren't technically any rules about asking a patient out, you were only a volunteer after all, but you’d avoided doing it.

“Would you maybe want to,” you start just when the door to Bob’s room opens.

The woman that enters is beautiful with striking features and silky-looking black hair swept back in a utilitarian bun. She’s wearing a torn flight suit and there’s a smudge of something black along her cheekbone. A bandage disappears below the neckline of her suit.

“Hey Phoenix,” Bob greets, smiling.

“Hey,” she returns, her face softening as she takes in the man on the bed. She touches his shoulder, her thumb sweeping up the side of his throat and down again. His Adam's apple bobs in response. They share meaningful eye contact that feels intimate enough to make you stare down at your hands until it passes.

Had you read the situation wrong? Oh god, maybe he hadn’t been flirting before and was just being nice. He did refer to Phoenix as his partner earlier. You assumed he meant it in a buddy type way but there is clearly something between them.

“Who’s your friend, Bob?” Phoenix asks, looking at you.

She makes an unnerving amount of eye contact with you before her dark brown eyes drag down your body and flick back to your face again in a quick assessment. Awkwardly you stand and hold out a hand, introducing yourself and Walter. Her slim fingers are cool and calloused against yours. Walter is oblivious to the tension in the room, jumping off the bed to greet Phoenix. To your relief the other woman squats down and scratches Walter in his favorite spot behind his ears.

“Aren’t you handsome, buddy,” she whispers before looking up at you, head cocked to the side. “What do I need to do to get a visit from you?”

Her tone almost sounds flirty, but you know it couldn’t possibly be. She’s probably pissed you were flirting with her boyfriend and now she was trying to make a point that you were spending too much time with Bob. That you should be visiting other patients. You glance at him, surprised to find him smiling at you. Phoenix pats Walter on the head one more time and stands.

She shares a look with her partner who nods. In response the corner of her lips curve upward and she turns to face you. “Would you like to go out with us?” She asks.

"Out with you,” you repeat, confused. Was this some weird power move to make sure you knew Bob was hers? “Like to dinner… or a cabin in the woods to kill me because I promise, I didn't realize he was your boyfriend." You hurry to tell her. “I was just being friendly. That’s what Walter and I do here at the hospital.”

To your surprise both Bob and Phoenix laugh.

"Oh, I see I'm going to have two of you," Phoenix says and you stare at her confused.

"Two of us?"

"Bob babbles when he's nervous too," Phoenix tells you, rounding the bed to approach you. Her gait is steady and slow, the look on her face causing a flurry of butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “We want to take you out on a date if you’re interested. No hard feelings if you’re not. Or if you just want to see Bob, that's okay too,” she says casually.

“But… you’re together?” You ask, motioning between them.

“Sort of,” says Bob at the same time Phoenix replies, “Define together.”

They look at each other and laugh. It’s an infectious sound. Both of them are attractive and it’s been a painfully long time since you’ve been out with someone or done anything fun. A date wouldn’t be so bad. At worst it would lead to nothing, then again, you could also have a fun night together. Maybe it was time to try something new.

“Okay,” you tell them both. “I’d like to go out. With both of you.” You clarify.

“Give me your phone,” Phoenix instructs, holding her hand out. She brings up your contact list and swiftly enters what you assume is her and Bob’s numbers, sending a text to both their numbers. Their phones chime in unison and she hands yours back. “There, now we’re all set.”

She’s so different from him, direct but not pushy, though-, that throws you off a little.

“Well, um, I look forward to hearing from you both,” you say, picking up Walter’s leash and almost missing the amused look Bob and Phoenix share. You feel a little awkward now but there’s a pleasant, excited buzz of energy flowing beneath your skin. “I should be going though, we have more patients to see.”

You get halfway to the door before a thought occurs to you and you turn around to look at Phoenix. "Hey… how did you know I'm um you know…" you trail off, gesturing to yourself.

“I have a radar for these things, plus Bob’s like catnip to bisexual women,” she says with a wink. “We’ll see you soon,” she promises. Behind her Bob waves.

You’re making your way down the hall when your phone pings. It’s a group message from Phoenix with a suggested time and date to meet up at a place called the Hard Deck. The next message is from Bob, letting you know their patio is dog friendly. You bend down and scratch Walter’s head.

“Looks like we got a date buddy,” you tell him with a grin.

✥

My inbox is open for your thoughts and feedback as well as drabble requests for this little verse I am creating.

#robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #natasha trace x reader x robert floyd #natasha phoenix trace x you #Natasha Phoenix Trace x reader x Robert Bob Floyd #natasha trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace x female reader #bob x female reader #bob x reader #bob x you #phoenix x reader #phoenix x you

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roosterforme · 1 year

Note

Do you mind giving us Nat’s first time with a girl? 👀

Not at all, nonny..... a little bit of smut below the cut.

This is for my 2k followers party!

Natasha sighed against your lips. Your fingers were gentle in her hair, tracing down along the column of her neck. "That feels good," she whispered when your lips found their way to her collarbone. "I already like this better with a girl," she added with a soft laugh.

You pushed her gently down on the bed and eased yourself on top of her. Everything felt perfect as Nat ran her palms down your back to your hips. A soft moan escaped your lips as Nat ground herself against your thigh where it was wedged between her legs.

"Fuck," Nat whispered, enjoying the friction as she rubbed herself there again. She was wet and excited, and her breathing became ragged as you playfully tickled your fingers along her body until they settled gently on her clit.

Your warm body was pressed against Nat's, and your bodyweight on top of hers had her panting as your fingers moved.

"Tell me what you like," you whispered, working your digits through Nat's wetness. "Tell me and I'll do it for you."

Nat swallowed hard. "Will you show me what it's like with your mouth?" she asked. With a nod you eased yourself lower on her body, using your tongue until in ways she had only ever imagined. You worked her up until she was gripping your hair hard, and then Nat came with a loud cry.

#emilys 2k party #teenage dirtbag #natasha trace x female reader

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

Si Vis Amari Ama

IV. Kissed by Fire

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairings: Rooster (Roman Name: Gallus) x Female Reader (Roman Name: Sabina), featuring Hangman (Roman Name: Carnifex) x Phoenix

Summary: A girl whose freedom was stolen to pay her father’s debts. A gladiator enslaved for the entertainment of Rome. A love they never thought possible.

Author’s Note: This chapter ended up being a beast to write! It’s very Hannix-centered, so that you can have a little bit more context and background regarding Carnifex and Phoenix’s relationship. But fear not, for there are hints of Gallus and Sabina as well, and we’ll be back to our main protagonists in the next chapter!

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Explicit sexual content, slavery in the ancient world, gladiatorial training/combat, discussion of minor injuries, brief language, slight angst, idiots in love, alternating point of view.

She hadn’t meant to get tangled up with him. She really hadn’t. Yet here she was.

Phoenix prided herself on being a rational, intelligent, level-headed woman. Perhaps it was her Greek heritage, or maybe it was the fact that she had learned long ago that the less you said and the more you listened, the better off you would be in this world. Either way, in the years since she had been robbed of her freedom, she had learned to rely on no one but herself, save for a few trusted friends for whom she would gladly lay down her life. She didn’t expose herself to unnecessary dangers, and she didn’t enmesh herself in anything that would make life harder than it already was. She avoided complications at all costs.

Until him.

She hadn’t been able to stand him from the very first day he’d entered the ludus of Atticus Cornelius Juventus. A great champion, Dominus had called him while gloating about his latest acquisition during a dinner party. A mighty warrior. The only gladiator he had ever seen who could give even Gallus a run for his money.

Phoenix knew then who he was speaking of—Carnifex the Gaul. He was the opponent who had given Gallus the scar on his shoulder, the one whom her old friend detested so wholly and complained so bitterly about whenever they were pitted against one another.

She only had to know him for a day before she understood the sentiment.

Carnifex, the man so named because he had somehow managed to survive the hangman’s noose when his village in Gaul was put to Roman flames, was the smuggest man she had ever known. And that was saying something, considering she’d spent the better part of her life catering to the whims and fancies of some of the most spoiled men the Roman Empire had to offer. He was arrogant. Obnoxious. More in love with himself than Narcissus, and quick to throw all his fellow gladiators to the lions if it meant more fame and glory for himself.

He made her blood boil.

And what was worse? He knew it.

Almost from the moment they first met, Carnifex seemed to make it his personal mission to get under her skin as often as he possibly could. Whether it was winking at her from across the training grounds while she was working around the ludus, making disparaging comments about Gallus and the others when he knew she was within earshot, or smirking skeptically when she came to assist Titus with the gladiators’ medical needs, he seemed to know all the ways to make her grow hot with a rage so potent she almost thought it would choke her one day.

“Has he always been so unbearable?” Phoenix huffed in annoyance as she bandaged one of Gallus’ hands one day after a morning training session. Carnifex stood about twenty feet away from them, bragging to the younger, more inexperienced gladiators about his most recent victory.

“Always,” Gallus muttered darkly, frowning in the other gladiator’s direction for a moment before shifting his attention back to her. “Trust me, he hasn’t changed one bit since his arrival here. If anything, he’s only gotten worse. Keep your distance from him, as much as you can.”

Phoenix knew without having to ask what Gallus really meant when he shot her a pointed look. It was no secret among the household slaves that Carnifex was notorious for bedding the prettiest slave girls. And because he was a Pugio, one of Atticus’ champions, he got his pick of the litter. He never lacked for any willing volunteers either. She couldn’t count how many times she’d witnessed giggling, simpering girls tiptoe out of their slave quarters in the middle of the night, only to return a few hours later with hushed, breathless stories of what an incredible lover Carnifex the Gaul was. The others may have listened with bated breath, but Phoenix just covered her ears, shut her eyes, and tried to block them all out.

“After all these years, do you really think so little of me that you suppose I would fall into bed with a man like him?” Phoenix demanded, tying off Gallus’ bandage with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

Gallus winced slightly, a chastened expression in his dark eyes as he looked at her. “No,” he replied firmly, and she knew he meant it. “It’s him I’m wary of, not you. I just don’t want him getting any ideas in his head where you’re concerned, thinking that he can—”

“He won’t,” she cut him off, glancing over her shoulder at where Carnifex stood, having moved on from regaling his captive audience with tales of his conquests in the arena to tales of his conquests in bed. She felt the distaste on the back of her tongue like sour milk as she turned back to Gallus. “Trust me, he suffers from no lack of female company in this household.”

Gallus didn’t look so certain, but he let the matter drop.

His rivalry with Carnifex, however, was not as easy to let go of. Even as the months wore on, the two of them couldn’t seem to let go of the deep-seated tension and competition that had marked their relationship for as long as they had known one another. Being members of the same ludus, they no longer competed against one another for the crowds, but within the training arena, it was another matter entirely. Phoenix watched each day as they brutally battered one another, two powerful men refusing to cede the upper hand.

On a few occasions, however, the battering went beyond mere combat training. Brawls weren’t uncommon among gladiators—they were basically an occupational hazard—but between Gallus and Carnifex, they had a tendency to turn ugly and to turn ugly fast.

Atticus greatly frowned upon disorder in his ludus, so whenever a fight broke out between two of his greatest champions, everyone else was quick to step in and stop it. Magnus, Pollux, Felix, Caius, even Titus, were always on call to tear the two of them apart when things got too vicious.

On a few occasions, when she’d been near at hand, even Phoenix had gotten involved. No matter what had happened, or who had done what to whom, she always gave Gallus her attention first.

“Sure, take his side, like you always do,” Carnifex spat one day, nursing what was sure to be a black eye.

She was startled by the heat in his voice. As much as he seemed to love tormenting her, his tone was always teasing and borderline playful. But today, it sounded like there was something akin to anger in it. Hands still resting on Gallus’ shoulders, she turned to look at him and didn’t fail to notice the way his jaw tightened when he looked back at her, his eyes flickering down to her hands and then flitting back up to her face. Something burned in those green eyes of his that she couldn’t quite name.

“Forget it,” he snapped, kicking aside his sword and shield as he pushed past the others and stormed back to his cell.

She cursed herself for not being able to get that encounter out of her head for days afterward. What had upset Carnifex so deeply? Why had he looked at her like that? And why did it seem that his eyes now followed her whenever she was around the ludus, especially when she was talking to Gallus?

He drove her mad.

Truly. She must have been going mad. That was the only reason she could come up with to explain why such an infuriating, insufferable man as Carnifex the Gaul was taking up more and more space in her head. At night, when the other girls giggled about his smile, she couldn’t help but recall the way it had touched his eyes when he’d turned it on her after his training bout. When they whispered about his muscles, she couldn’t fail to remember the way the sun glistened off his slick skin as he trained, his muscles rippling as he hefted his sword and shield with an ease almost too great to be believed. And when they gossiped about his talents in bed, she burned with an ache that settled deep in the pit of her stomach, pooling between her thighs until she squeezed her eyes shut and forced her traitorous body to go to sleep.

This was Carnifex they were talking about. Cocky, selfish, arrogant Carnifex. She would not allow herself to become another one of his playthings.

Yet each time she was around him, she realized with horror, her defenses seemed to crumble more and more. One afternoon, while she was handing out water to the men, he even managed to coax a smile out of her.

“Look at that,” he whistled softly, taking a satisfied gulp of water. “I finally managed to make the Grecian goddess smile.”

She flushed at his words, mentally kicking herself for it all the while. “I am capable of it, you know,” she shot back, arching a dark eyebrow as she gazed up at him.

“Perhaps, but I’ve never seen it,” he returned evenly, his green eyes sparkling in the midday sun.

“Maybe that’s because you don’t do anything to make me smile,” she offered, rolling her shoulders back and standing up straighter.

He leaned in a little closer, his breath tickling her cheek as he whispered, “Until now.”

She couldn’t help it. She blushed. And he smiled.

Damn him.

He got under her skin and he knew it. He enjoyed it.

From that day on, the two of them danced around each other, sparring with words the same way he and Gallus sparred with swords. And though she would never admit it out loud, Phoenix enjoyed the challenge of matching wits with Carnifex. He kept her on her toes, always pushing back and eliciting her own competitive streak as she strove to outsmart him.

Whenever Pollux or Felix or Caius or Gallus shot them sideways glances, eyebrows raised or silent looks exchanged among them, she always scoffed and brushed it aside. There was absolutely nothing going on between her and Carnifex, and there never would be.

Or so she thought.

She hadn’t intended to be over at the ludus that afternoon, too busy helping to prepare the household for a banquet that Atticus and Aurelia would be hosting in a few days time, but Titus was currently tending to Atticus’ ailing mother and had asked her to look to any injuries the men sustained during their training bouts.

As she approached the small arena where Gallus and Carnifex were training, she could feel the tension pouring off them in waves. They were both sweating and grunting, looking the worse for wear but unwilling to yield or admit defeat.

“Give it up, Gallus,” Carnifex growled through gritted teeth, bringing his sword down sharply against Gallus’ shield. “One of these days, that good fortune of yours is going to run out.”

“Maybe so,” Gallus snarled in return, lunging at Carnifex and aiming his sword at his exposed side. The other man quickly parried, jumping back to avoid the disastrous blow. “But not today.”

Phoenix felt her heart squeeze inside her chest as she watched the two of them go at it, viciously swiping and pouncing at each other. She noticed, with a stab of fear, the way that Gallus was starting to slow down, his breathing growing more labored as he tired out.

Carnifex noticed it, too. Not failing to take this rare opportunity, he lunged forward and expertly knocked Gallus’ sword from his hand, kicking it across the sand so that he would be unable to retrieve it. Smirking, he held his own sword up and aimed it at Gallus’ throat.

Chest heaving, Gallus just stared down his opponent, his shield still strapped to his arm as he realized that there was no way out.

“And so Carnifex the Gaul bests the Barbarian from Britannia,” Carnifex crowed triumphantly, slowly edging closer. He threw his sword and shield down, as they always did at the end of their training matches. “Looks like Rome will get to cheer for another dead Briton.”

Phoenix froze at his words, a feeling of dread sinking into her bones as she looked over at Gallus. Her friend’s eyes darkened in an instant, and she knew that in his mind’s eye, he was seeing his mother and father, and all of his people who had been slaughtered at the hands of Rome. She watched as something inside him twisted and snapped, and then he was on Carnifex in an instant.

“You son of a bitch!” Gallus roared, lunging at the other man and knocking him to the ground with a loud crash, quickly gaining the attention of everyone else on the training grounds, who immediately came running.

Carnifex made an admirable effort to fend off the blows, but Gallus was in another place altogether as he punched and kicked at his rival, landing one harsh hit after another on the other man’s exposed chest and legs.

“Get the fuck off me, you fucking barbarian!” Carnifex thundered, trying to hit back. It was difficult for him to do so, however, considering Gallus had him pinned to the ground. “Get off me!”

“Gallus! Stop!” Pollux exclaimed, he and Caius rushing forward to try to put an end to the violence. Even with the both of them pulling at him, however, Gallus wouldn’t be stopped.

His eyes had clouded over, and Phoenix knew he was in that place, that place deep inside his mind where he retreated during his fights in the Colosseum, when every decision and every move he made meant the difference between life and death.

But this wasn’t a matter of life and death. At least, not for Gallus. But if someone didn’t do something, it might be a matter of life and death for Carnifex.

“Gallus!” Phoenix shouted over the din of the restless crowd of gladiators, pushing them out of the way as she ran towards the fray. “Gallus!” she screamed again, louder this time, crouching down on the ground behind Carnifex’s head, right in front of him. “Stop!”

The sound of her voice seemed to penetrate that dark place inside him because as he looked up at her, blinking slowly, his fists came to a halt. Gasping for air, he gazed down at a bruised and blooded Carnifex, swallowing when he realized the magnitude of what he had done.

Everyone was silent as Gallus rose on unsteady feet, breathing hard and staring at his bloody knuckles. Phoenix saw shame wash over her friend, and she felt a stab of empathy for him, but she continued to kneel beside Carnifex as Gallus looked from the other gladiators, to her, to the man lying on the ground at his feet.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly, turning away from all of them without another word as he stumbled towards his cell and slammed the door shut behind him.

“That damn savage,” Carnifex muttered angrily, slowly starting to sit up and wincing as he did so.

Instinctively, Phoenix reached out her hands to support his back, her eyes quickly scanning to assess for injuries, the way Titus had taught her.

Pollux, Caius, and Felix were quiet, even as the other gladiators began murmuring loudly among themselves, questioning aloud what had happened to set Gallus off so tremendously.

“Back to work!” Magnus shouted, corralling all of the less experienced men back to their training. “There’s nothing more for you to see here.”

“You’re hurt,” Phoenix muttered, running her hands over Carnifex’s tender and swollen flesh.

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted, tensing under her touch.

“You don’t know that,” Phoenix shot back sternly. “Gallus really did a number on you. I have to check you out and make sure you’re okay.”

Normally, she was sure he would have made some ridiculous comment in response to her words, but today, he just looked at her and frowned. “No,” he said flatly.

“Yes,” Phoenix told him stubbornly. Two could play at this game. Turning to her friends, she said, “Felix, Caius, can you help me get him to his cell?”

As they stepped forward, however, Carnifex held up a hand and slowly rose to his feet on his own. “I’m not an invalid. I can get there myself.”

“If you see Titus, let him know what happened,” Phoenix called over her shoulder as she began walking with Carnifex, albeit a bit slowly, across the training grounds and towards his cell.

Once they were inside, Phoenix took charge. Tossing her dark braid over her shoulder, she closed the door behind them and ordered, “Sit,” pointing at his bed in the corner of the small room. She’d been in his cell countless times before, to serve him meals or tend to his wounds, but never by herself. She had never been more aware of that bed.

Carnifex frowned again, but did as she said, taking a seat on the edge of his bed and spreading his large hands out on his thighs, trying not to think too much about the pain that was throbbing in his limbs.

“How are you feeling?” she asked him in a calm, cool voice, stepping closer to him and carefully examining the discolored marks that would soon be bruises all over his body. “And tell me the truth.”

Swallowing back the lie he’d been about to tell, Carnifex sighed quietly as his green eyes searched her face. “I’m in pain. Mostly in my shoulders and my side,” he admitted, although reluctantly. “I might say a lot of things about Gallus, but the man knows how to throw a proper punch,” he grimaced, wincing as Phoenix pressed down on a particularly tender spot on his chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, trying to be more gentle as she prodded and poked at him. “You said your side? Here?” she asked, resting her hand on a spot midway down his body.

He shook his head, reaching up and placing his large, calloused hand over hers. “No. Here,” he clarified, taking her hand and moving it downwards, until it rested just above his hip.

Somehow the room, already quite small to begin with, seemed to grow much smaller as the air between them grew heavy.

Clearing her throat, Phoenix carefully ran her fingers over the spot he had indicated, feeling for any swollenness that would indicate an internal injury. Thankfully, she found none.

“Well, luck seems to be on your side,” she murmured, glancing up and realizing with a slight start that his face was much closer to hers than she had first thought. “No broken bones and no deep damage, from what I can tell, though I’ll make sure to let Titus know to check you out. You’ll just be sore and have some serious bruising, but nothing you’re not used to.”

He was quiet for a few moments, absorbing her words as he continued to stare at her. “Why are you helping me?” he finally questioned.

“What do you mean?” Phoenix asked, taken aback. “That’s what I do. It’s one of my jobs.”

“You know what I mean,” he said in a low voice, which made her lean in even closer to be able to hear him. “This isn’t an injury I sustained from training. It’s because of a stupid fight I got into with Gallus. And you always take Gallus’ side when we fight. So why are you here, and not with him?”

“Gallus will be fine,” Phoenix murmured. She didn’t want to point out the obvious, but he had fared much better in this fight than Carnifex had. “You were the one who bore the brunt of it.”

“Which was my fault, right? Because of what I said? I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking,” he said, his green eyes boring into her brown ones.

Phoenix took a breath, trying to organize her jumbled thoughts. “What you said—it wasn’t kind, but Gallus shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. I know why he did, but he shouldn’t have. He could have really hurt you.”

“He would have, if you hadn’t stopped him,” Carnifex pointed out, his expression indecipherable. “He listens to you.”

“We’re friends,” Phoenix said, as if that explained everything. “But just because we’re friends doesn’t mean I can’t admit when he’s done something he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t have hurt you like that. But you shouldn’t have said what you said either. Gallus has known more pain than you can imagine.”

“I have known pain, too,” he replied sharply, a trace of bitterness creeping into his tone that she had never heard before.

“I know,” she whispered. “As have I. As have we all. You and Gallus have far more in common than you know, if you would just put aside this petty rivalry.”

Carnifex just waved his hand and turned his face away from her, staring at the wall.

Sighing, Phoenix went to take a step back, but suddenly Carnifex’s head was whipping back around again, his eyes trained on her.

“Are you leaving?” he asked, looking oddly bereft at the thought.

Her mouth felt dry as she looked back at him. “Is there some reason I should stay?”

He didn’t say anything in response to that, just wrapped his fingers lightly around her wrist and tugged her towards him until their chests were pressed flush together. Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze flickered down to her lips. And then he kissed her. With one hand still wrapped around her wrist and the other cradling the back of her head, he kissed her with a hunger and an urgency that she could feel radiating through her body.

But before she could even process exactly what was happening, and what it was making her feel, he pulled back and released her, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have done that. I—”

She cut off his excuses as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, her fingers raking through his hair, the hair that reminded her of the sandy beaches of home. It took only a second before she felt his arms snaking around her waist, holding her tightly as their mouths melded together, desperate for a taste of the other.

As the kiss deepened, he reached up and buried his fingers in her thick braid, tugging fiercely at it until her beautiful dark hair came loose, cascading down her back. She let out a soft moan at the feel of it, and that sound alone seemed to unlock something feral in them both.

Rising from his bed, Carnifex wrapped his arms more tightly around her small body, pressing her to his chest as the two of them stumbled backwards in a lust-fueled frenzy, grasping at each other as they fell back against the wall on the other side of the room. Another moan of pleasure slipped from Phoenix’s lips as she felt the rough stone against her back, Carnifex’s thick fingers buried in her hair as his kisses began trailing from her lips, across her jaw, and down her neck.

“Phoenix,” Carnifex gasped, peppering her skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses. “Oh, Phoenix,” he groaned, running his hands up and down her body as she gripped his hair and brought his lips crashing back down onto hers. “Been dying to taste you for so long,” he panted against her mouth, nipping at her chin as she angled her face upwards.

“And?” Phoenix murmured, her brain fuzzy with wanting as she trailed a hand down his naked chest. “Was it worth the wait?”

He chuckled despite himself, despite the circumstances. “Yes,” he nodded, lifting a hand to her face and brushing his thumb over her lips. “Most definitely yes. Need to taste more of you,” he moaned, latching onto her throat and sucking softly.

“More,” Phoenix echoed breathlessly, her eyes fluttering as her entire body pulsated with desire. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was crazy. She should leave before they crossed any more boundaries than they already had. But though the rational part of her knew that that was what would be best, she couldn’t force herself to do it. She couldn’t force herself to leave.

“More,” Carnifex whispered, his mouth covering hers as his hands slid up and began gently massaging her breasts through her thin tunic. He kneaded and caressed until her nipples hardened to sharp buds, standing out distinctly against the fabric that covered her. Pulling back just enough to look down and meet her eyes, he raised his eyebrows in silent question.

“Yes,” she moaned in reply, nodding her head slowly. “Yes.”

In an instant, his hands were on the knots at her shoulders, untying them with deft fingers, while she quickly discarded the cord around her waist. With just a gentle push, he sent her tunic pooling to the floor at her feet.

Naked and exposed, she stood before him and watched as he took the full measure of her. His eyes glowed with appreciation and she felt herself grow flushed under his scrutiny.

“You really are a goddess,” he whispered hoarsely, reaching up to cup her bare breasts in his hands. A shiver ran down her spine as he brushed his thumbs over her aching nipples. Eyes still on her, he lowered down slightly so that he could take one into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the bud as he hummed softly.

Her breath hitched in pleasure and she reached up to rest one hand on the back of his head, her other bracing against his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered shut as he continued to suckle gently, releasing her breast with a wet pop before moving to the other one. He repeated the process once more, eliciting soft mewls of arousal from her. She could feel herself growing slick with desire for him, a fire kindling deep inside her belly.

Grasping her hips in both hands, Carnifex slowly lowered down to his knees, kissing his way down her stomach and nipping lightly at her smooth skin. She hoped he couldn’t feel the way she trembled beneath his touch, the way her entire body quivered with delight at every kiss.

When she felt his hot breath between her legs, her hips bucked slightly and she let out a strangled gasp, immediately opening her eyes and looking downwards.

“Carnifex, what are you—?”

“Sh,” he murmured, pressing lazy kisses to the front of her thighs. “I wanted to taste you, remember?”

At any other time, she would have been mortified by the moan that escaped her lips at his words, but at that moment, she was too far gone to care. Reaching down and burying her fingers in his hair, she let out a short gasp of surprise when he lifted one of her legs and draped it over his shoulder, supporting her with a hand still on her waist.

“I’ve got you,” he winked, turning his head and smothering her inner thigh with slow, sensual kisses that already had her seeing stars. How would she possibly survive what else he had in store? Heart pounding inside her chest, she watched as his kisses began to trail inward, closer and closer to her center, to the place where her body was crying out with need for him.

When he finally reached the thatch of dark curls between her legs, he reached up with an almost breathless reverence and parted her with his fingers, prompting a small cry to fall from her lips. “Fuck, look at you,” he said quietly, almost to himself, as he slowly trailed a finger downwards. “Already so wet for me.”

“No games,” she gasped out, fighting the urge to press his face between her thighs. “Just….just…oh,” she moaned, her knees going weak when he began tracing the tip of his finger around the tiny bud at her center, the one that made it hard to think or move or breathe when he was touching it like that.

“Just what?” he asked, looking up at her with faux innocence as he pressed a kiss between her legs. “Hm?”

“Just keep doing that,” Phoenix sighed, her head falling backward against the wall. She reached up to run her hands over her breasts, overwhelmed by the sensations suddenly overtaking her body.

“Whatever you say,” he smirked, suddenly leaning forward and diving facefirst, his tongue tracing a trail up and down her soaked opening. Spurred on by her cries of pleasure, he wrapped his lips around her bud and sucked, feeling a surge of triumph when she began tugging on his hair and babbling out his name. Feeling that she was close, he gripped her thigh more tightly and teased her entrance with two fingers, coating them with her slick before slowly easing them inside her tight walls.

“Carnifex!” Phoenix practically screamed, biting down roughly on her lower lip to keep from being overheard. She felt so full, his large fingers stroking her walls as his tongue worked over the source of the most exquisite pleasure she had ever experienced. Unable to stop herself, she pressed her hand against the back of his head and began grinding herself against his face, chasing the high that he was giving her.

“That’s it. That’s my girl,” he praised her, lapping up her wetness like a starving man. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Just let go. Let go,” he encouraged her, squeezing her thigh and increasing the speed of his fingers.

“I—I—I’m—oh, oh, oh!” Phoenix gasped, the fire inside her belly building and building and building until it felt that surely she would be consumed by the flames. But she wasn’t. Instead, that burning sensation came to a feverish crescendo, and then suddenly there were white spots floating in her vision as her body rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed through her, making it impossible to catch her breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” Carnifex almost growled, rising and lifting her into his arms. She was glad for it, because she was suddenly certain she wouldn’t be able to stand on her own. He kissed her then, despite the fact that his mouth and chin were drenched with her nectar, and she found, surprisingly, that she wasn’t at all offended by the taste of herself on his lips.

He laid her down on his bed, and when she looked up at him, she could see his arousal clear as day in the front of the short tunic he wore wrapped around his waist. Sitting up on her knees, she crawled towards the edge of the bed and reached for his waistband, looking up into his eyes.

“Seems unfair that I should be the only one undressed here,” she told him, undoing his belt and pushing his tunic down to the floor, followed by the small cloth he wore for modesty while he was training.

He now stood before her, as naked as she was, and it was her turn to look him over with appreciation. She had known that he had a good body, of course, from watching him train and patching him up. And she’d heard from the girls in the slave quarters that his other assets were more than adequate as well. Apparently, for once, they hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Like what you see?” Carnifex asked with a small smirk, noting the way her eyes widened when she took in the size of his hardened length.

“Very much so,” Phoenix nodded, licking her lips as she felt her desire ratchet up once more. Not wanting to feed his already inflated ego too much, however, she quickly added, “But don’t let it go to your head, gladiator.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her smugly as he pressed her down onto his small bed, clearly designed with only one occupant in mind, and mounted her.

If her body wasn’t craving this forbidden pleasure so badly, she would have been more than happy to smack that self-satisfied look right off his face. But as it was, his lips landed on hers once more and she was able to concentrate on nothing beyond the feel of his bare skin pressed against hers.

Moaning softly into his mouth, she hooked one leg around his waist and buried her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers danced across her skin, tracing the contours of her body with a grip that was shockingly gentle, but which hinted at the power and strength that lay beneath the surface. She shivered at the thought of those rough hands, those hands that had ended the lives of so many nameless, faceless opponents, digging into her skin and marking her flesh—marking her as his.

His kisses were everything and nothing like she thought they would be, all at the same time. He kissed her with a bruising intensity, sucking and nipping at her lips as though he wanted her to know that she was his and his alone. Yet at the same time, his tongue was soothing and gentle, tracing the seam of her mouth with an almost painful tenderness. His kisses tasted sweeter than honey and finer than even the best wine their masters served at their fancy banquets.

If a girl wasn’t careful, she could get addicted to those kisses.

Groaning under his breath, Carnifex began muttering to himself as he ground his hips against her, his stiff, pulsing length burning her skin as it rubbed against her thigh. It took her a moment to become conscious of the fact that she didn’t understand the language he was speaking. It must have been the language of his people.

“What are you saying?” she asked, curious despite herself as their mingled pants and moans filled the air.

“Just how fucking crazy you make me,” he confessed, burying his face in the crook between her neck and her shoulder. As he began peppering her shoulder and collarbone with searing kisses, his hand slid down between their bodies, finding the apex of her pleasure once again and rubbing it slowly.

“I like it,” she whispered, running one hand over the planes of his handsome face, her back arching up off the bed as he stoked the fire inside her. “Your language.”

“The Romans find it savage,” he grunted, dipping a finger inside her while he nipped at her jaw.

“I’m not Roman,” she said firmly, spreading her legs wider beneath him and biting down on her lower lip as she felt that burning sensation filling her body all over again.

“No,” he replied, resting his forehead against hers, their noses bumping together as they stared into each other’s eyes. “You’re not.”

Wordlessly, Phoenix reached between their bodies and wrapped her hand around him, drawing a sharp hiss from deep inside his chest. She stroked him softly, feeling how rigid he was with need. Need for her. In that moment, he longed for her just as much as she longed for him. Something about that realization caused a chasm of yearning to open up inside her chest.

Still grasping him firmly in her hand, she drew him closer to her entrance and then released him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders to kiss him once more. He hissed again, but this time it was in pain. Pulling back, she realized with a wince that she had pressed down on one of the tender spots from Gallus’ beating.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks. “Would you rather we didn’t—”

“Phoenix,” he cut her off, silencing her with a finger to her lips. “The gods themselves could not keep me from you right now.”

He smothered any further arguments she might have tried to make with a heated kiss, cradling her face in one hand as he lined himself up to her entrance with the other. For all their frenzied passion, he took his time about it, teasing her soaked folds with the tip of his length until she finally let out a small grunt of frustration.

“So impatient,” he smirked, slowly pushing himself into her, just an inch or so.

“Oh,” Phoenix moaned, fisting his roughspun blanket in her hands as he gripped her hips, watching himself sink further and further inside her, the both of them gasping at the sensation.

“Fuck,” he grunted once he was fully seated inside her, stilling his hips for a moment and just gazing down at her.

“Don’t stop now,” she told him in a breathless voice, reaching up to trail one hand down his chest and stomach. “Please.”

That little beg was all the encouragement he needed. Resting his hands on either side of her head, caging her within his grasp, he began to rock his hips against hers, her gasps and moans of ecstasy spurring him on until he was pistoning inside her, the sound of his naked body slapping against hers filling the small cell.

“Fuck, fuck, yes!” Phoenix cried out, her dark eyes screwing shut as she clung to him, her nails biting into the thickened flesh of his back, hardened from years of enduring the whip. “Yes, yes, yes, keep going!”

Grasping her jaw in one hand, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers, and told her, “Open your eyes. I want you to look at me. I want to see you when you fall apart for me.”

Her eyes flew open instantly at his words, her pupils blown wide with lust and desire as she gazed up at him, seeing the same feelings reflected in his green irises. She knew she must be close to falling over the edge once more, for she could feel that same all-consuming fire burning in her lower belly, causing her legs to tremble and her breathing to become more shallow.

“Carn—Carnifex,” she groaned, digging her nails into his shoulders while her hips continued to thrust upward, aligning herself with his unforgiving pace as he chased her to higher and higher heights of pleasures. Aphrodite herself would envy her, she was sure of it.

“I know, I know,” Carnifex panted, letting his body drop down on top of hers and pressing his face into her neck. “I can feel you. Oh, you’re so tight. Let go. I want to feel you let go,” he whispered, sucking at the pulse point just beneath her ear.

She was right on the edge, dancing dangerously close to the precipice of no return. Her skin burned with a white-hot fire that he had started inside her, a fire that only he could extinguish. Somewhere in the hazy back of her mind, she couldn’t believe she was here, couldn’t believe she was in the arms of this man who had been the bane of her existence since she first laid eyes on him. And yet, somehow being here also felt so right. Her body felt so alive, every part of her tingling with a newness and a vibrancy that she didn’t understand, but never wanted to let go of.

Tears pricking the corners of her eyes, she cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down to her as she fell apart, her entire body quaking as the flames engulfed her, consuming every part of her until she felt like nothing more than ash and bone. She lay back in exhaustion, her chest heaving and sweat dripping down her body, not a single coherent thought in her head.

She only became aware that he had pulled out of her when she felt a strange emptiness between her legs, a soft, unconscious whimper escaping her lips at the loss.

“I’m here,” Carnifex told her, groaning as he pumped himself above her. “I’m right here.” Sweat poured down his chest, his skin flushed and hot to the touch as he reached his own finish, his seed spilling forth and landing on her stomach. Spent, he collapsed down beside her with a low grunt, struggling to catch his breath just as she had.

They lay side by side like that for several minutes, neither of them saying anything. As they slowly came down from their high, the magnitude of what had just transpired between them sunk in and the air in the room shifted.

Carnifex suddenly reached for her, opening his mouth to speak. “Phoenix, I—”

“I have to go,” Phoenix told him quickly, sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of his bed. “They’ll be wondering where I’ve gone. Aurelia is probably looking for me.”

“Phoenix,” Carnifex said again, gripping her arm and sitting up beside her. “Please don’t just—”

“I have to,” she insisted, hurrying to grab a rag in the corner of the room and clean herself up. Without looking at him, she combed her fingers through her tangled locks and, fast as lightning, rebraided her hair, reaching for her discarded tunic and pulling it over her head. She’d gotten used to preparing herself quickly over the years, and within a couple minutes she already had her tunic knotted at the shoulders and the cord wrapped around her waist like before.

Stepping towards the door, she knew she should have walked through it without a backwards glance, but she couldn’t do it. Freezing in place, she turned and looked over shoulder, meeting his eye. He was still sitting on the edge of his bed, watching her. He hadn’t moved to clean himself up or get dressed. His eyes were simply fixed on her.

“We shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t say that,” he rasped, what looked to be pain flashing in his eyes. But maybe it was just a trick of the light. “Please don’t say that.”

“I have to go, Carnifex,” Phoenix murmured, regret coloring her voice. But what it was she was regretting, she couldn’t be sure. Was it falling into bed with him? Or was it the fact that she had caused that wounded expression on his face?

He didn’t say anything in response, just stared at her with those big green eyes until she finally turned away from him and slipped out of his cell, shutting the door firmly behind her.

If only she could shut the door on what had happened between them so easily.

But even as the thought entered her mind, she knew it wasn’t true. She would never be able to erase what had just happened, and the reality was, she didn’t want to.

She had never meant to get tangled up with him, but now she had.

And there was no going back.

He had never meant to fall in love with her. He really hadn’t. Yet here he was.

He should have known from the moment he first laid eyes on her that she would be trouble. She was the most infuriating, difficult, stubborn woman he had ever met. She was also the most beautiful, with those big brown eyes and that dark hair that reminded him of the wings of the ravens that used to nest in his village back in Gaul.

She didn’t like him. He could tell that right from the start. Those pretty eyes of hers always narrowed whenever he was around, her mouth, with those lips that he wanted to taste more than anything, puckered like she had just eaten something sour. She was always by Gallus’ side, so no doubt he had poisoned her against him.

And yet, despite the obvious disdain she felt for him, he constantly found himself caught in her orbit, like a moth drawn to a flame. She might not have offered him smiles or flirtatious giggles like the other slave girls in the household, but he found that the more she pushed him away, the more he desired to be by her side. She might have been infuriating and difficult and stubborn, but she was also witty and cunning and sharp. Every time she lashed him with her tongue, or put him in his place with her quick words, he found himself even more enamored with her.

He ached with need for her, particularly in the moments when she tended his broken body with those skilled, agile hands of hers. Of course the old medicus had chosen her to be his assistant in the ludus. There was no one more capable or intelligent.

There was no one he wanted more.

But she loathed him. She made that clear whenever she was in his presence. And so he chased his pleasure elsewhere, sought to satiate that ache that rested deep within his bones by bedding every simpering slave girl who batted her eyelashes in his direction. They adored him, praised him, coddled him, and begged to be his forever.

But they weren’t her.

Even he had enough shame left within him to feel disgusted with himself on the nights when he closed his eyes and pretended that the girl twisting and moaning beneath him was her. He’d turn his back when he was finished, disappointed when he opened his eyes to find it wasn’t her, and ashamed of himself for thinking it could ever be otherwise.

They never seemed to mind, the endless stream of women who came to his bed. To them, it was enough to have been bedded, even once, by Carnifex the Gaul. That was all he was to them. That was all he was to just about everybody.

He wanted to be more. He wanted to be more to her.

He hated himself for feeling the way that he did. Feelings like this, especially for a woman who couldn’t even stand the sight of him, were dangerous. Love made men weak, and he couldn’t afford to be weak, not when his very life depended on being the best of the best in the arena.

She was a distraction.

She was a stumbling block.

She was a thorn in his side.

She was everything he had ever wanted.

And just when he had been convinced that she was everything he would never have, somehow, by some miraculous intervention of the gods, she had ended up in his arms. In his bed. And for the first time, he didn’t have to close his eyes and pretend, imagining what her body would feel like or what her lips would taste like.

She was real.

She was there.

She was his.

At least, for that brief moment in time. But it wasn’t enough. No amount of time with her would ever be enough, not unless it was eternity.

She dodged him for days afterward, pointedly avoiding his gaze whenever she was working around the ludus, and conveniently finding ways to get around having to tend to his injuries after his training sessions.

It drove him mad.

She drove him mad.

Finally, just when he thought he couldn’t possibly stand it any longer, he managed to catch her while she was on her own, leaving the bathhouse after delivering fresh linens.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he demanded, cutting straight to the chase as he snagged her around the waist and tugged her into a private alcove.

She looked startled, uneasy, her dark eyes shifting nervously back and forth, as if expecting some hidden figure to jump from the shadows. Not wanting to cause her such anxiety, he let go of her waist, but continued to stand in front of her, blocking her exit for the time being.

“I haven’t,” she lied, shifting back and forth as she blatantly refused to meet his eye. Even she couldn’t possibly believe the words that had just come out of her mouth.

“Phoenix,” Carnifex breathed out, leaning in closer, the tip of his nose bumping against hers as he angled his head downward. He knew the longing was evident in his voice, but he didn’t care.

“Carnifex, we shouldn’t,” she told him in a hushed voice, her breath catching in her throat as he reached up to cup her jaw, his rough thumb brushing against her skin.

“But we did,” he countered, his lips hovering above hers, waiting for her to push him away. When she didn’t, he closed the gap between them, slotting his mouth over hers and kissing her slowly, gently.

“This is foolish,” she rasped when they finally broke apart, her dark eyes turned upward to meet his gaze. “Someone could see.”

“So let them see,” he insisted, cradling her face in his hands and leaning in to kiss her again.

“No,” Phoenix shook her head in frustration, pushing him back. “No, it’s a terrible idea.”

“I want you,” he confessed, keeping a distance between them so as not to upset her further. What he felt for her went so much deeper than mere wanting, but he knew he couldn’t tell her that. Still, he had to try to make her understand. “And I know you want me, too.”

He counted it a victory that she didn’t deny his words outright.

“What does that matter?” she snapped, crossing her arms firmly over her chest and turning her head to look away from him.

“It matters,” he said firmly, taking one small step closer to her. “It matters because Rome has taken everything from us for her own pleasure. We deserve a little pleasure of our own, don’t you think?” he murmured, running one finger down her bare arm. He didn’t fail to notice the way it made her shiver, though she tried to mask it. Resting one hand on the wall behind her head, he ducked his head low and whispered against her ear, “I know I gave you pleasure.”

“What do you want from me, Carnifex?” Phoenix demanded, something catching in her voice as she tilted her head to look at him. It was the first time he had ever caught that look in her eye, that hint of sadness and brokenness that he had seen in the faces of so many others. He didn’t want to see it in her.

“I want you. Just you and nothing else,” he said simply, twisting a loose lock of her dark hair around his finger. “Whenever you’re able, come to me. Let’s find what pleasure we can, in whatever time the gods may grant us.”

“I won’t be your whore,” she told him sharply, recoiling from his touch. “I’m not your plaything that you can command to come and go.”

“Don’t you ever call yourself that,” he retorted, his voice just as sharp, his green eyes flashing. “You are not…I would never…” He took a breath, trying to collect his thoughts. “You’re free to come and go as you wish, whenever it pleases you. I would not hold you to anything.”

Phoenix swallowed, gazing downward for a moment as she seemed to contemplate his proposition. After several beats of silence, she lifted her head and raised one dark eyebrow. “It would be for pleasure and nothing more?”

By the gods, how he wanted so much more with her. But how could he ever expect that, with the lives they led? So swallowing past the lump in his throat, he merely nodded. “For pleasure and nothing more.”

She was quiet again, but this time she kept her eyes on him as she cocked her head to the side, thinking. Finally, she spoke.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” he repeated, eyes widening slightly. He was shocked she had actually agreed.

“But don’t expect me to always be available at your beck and call, gladiator,” she insisted firmly, poking him in the chest. “It’ll be when I’m good and ready.”

Carnifex couldn’t help but smirk at her words, a satisfied expression slipping onto his face. “How about tonight?”

“We’ll see.”

But she did come to him that night. And for many more nights that week. And then the week after that. And the next one after that, until eventually months had passed.

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” she panted one night as she rode atop him, her nails digging into his chest as he lay with his hands behind his head and admired her beauty. “It’s safer that way. For everyone.”

He knew she was right, but that didn’t mean from time to time he desperately wanted to shout from the rooftops that the most beautiful woman in all of the Roman Empire spent the majority of her evenings in his bed.

Especially when the others questioned him about the scratches on his back or the love bites on his chest.

“You need to keep it down at night, my friend,” Caius complained during one morning training session. He had the misfortune, as he often called it, of occupying the cell directly next to Carnifex’s. “Some of us actually try to get some sleep. Who was that girl you had in there last night anyway? The two of you could have woken the dead.”

Carnifex just smirked in response, though his eyes couldn’t help but slip towards Phoenix, who was hanging freshly washed tunics just a few feet away. He could tell from the ruddiness of her complexion that she had heard Caius loud and clear.

She made sure to keep her voice down that night, much to his amusement.

He loved each and every moment that she spent in his arms, but he hated what came afterwards. Even after months of their secret arrangement, she still refused to stay with him during the night, always grabbing her tunic and fleeing his cell as soon as the deed was done.

“Why won’t you stay with me?” he asked her one night, her body still pinned beneath his as he pressed lazy kisses to her neck and shoulder.

“You know I can’t,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “I can’t be caught in here with you, and it would be too suspicious if I spent the whole night away from the slave quarters.”

Damn her and her rational mind.

“Then stay with me just a little while,” he insisted, pecking the corner of her mouth. “Don’t run off as soon as it’s over.”

“Why?” she asked quietly, running her fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. He loved it when she did that.

Knowing he couldn’t give her an answer that wouldn’t scare her off and send her running for the hills, he simply shrugged, allowing that smug, overly confident mask to slip into place. “You help keep the bed warm.”

She seemed aggravated by his response, but he noticed that after that night, she wasn’t as quick to get up and go, sometimes lingering for up to an hour or more after they finished.

Tonight, she seemed more exhausted than usual, curling up against his chest and closing her eyes as he traced his fingers up and down her spine, enjoying the feel of her heart beating in tandem with his.

“You seem tired,” he voiced his observation out loud, glancing down at her and brushing some of her dark hair out of her face.

“I am,” she admitted, fighting back a yawn as she swirled her finger around his chest in lazy patterns. “Aurelia’s been working us like dogs lately. Except, I think she might actually treat dogs better than she treats us. Stupid bitch,” she muttered darkly, her hand stilling as her body tensed with resentment.

“Hey,” he murmured, nudging her gently until she looked up at him. His brow furrowed in concern, noting the dark circles under her eyes. He should have been paying more attention. How had he failed to notice them? He knew there was no love lost between Phoenix and their domina, but her voice held a particular trace of venom this evening. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“It’s nothing,” she deflected quickly, then let out a heavy sigh. “It’s just…she treats Sabina so badly. And it makes me so angry. She’s the last person on earth who deserves it, and I just want to be able to protect her.”

Carnifex hadn’t failed to notice how much you had come to mean to Phoenix since your arrival in the household a few months prior. He had never seen Phoenix interact with any of the other slave girls until you came along, and now you two seemed as close as sisters. And though he didn’t yet know you very well, from all the interactions he’d had with you thus far, he could at least say that he understood the impulse to look out for you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured sincerely, stroking her back with a comforting hand. “I know how much Sabina means to you, and how much you already can’t stand Aurelia to begin with,” he added with a grimace. Was there anybody in the household who could stand Aurelia? He doubted even Atticus could.

Phoenix sighed again, rubbing at her eyes and sitting up slowly. “Speaking of Sabina, I should get going before she starts to worry. I promised her I wouldn’t be gone long.”

“Where does she think you go at night?” he asked curiously, reluctant to let her go.

Though their tryst had started before you had even entered the household, and though you and Phoenix had become as thick as thieves since your arrival, she maintained that she didn’t want to burden you with the responsibility of knowing what was going on between her and the infamous Gallic gladiator.

“It’s better that no one knows, Carnifex,” she often told him, whenever he insinuated that their closest friends might be piecing things together. “That way they won’t have to be responsible for lying for us, if it comes to that. Besides, it’s just sex, right? Why does anyone need to know?”

He pretended that those words didn’t cut him to the core.

Sitting up in his bed, Phoenix twisted her dark hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck and glanced down at him. “Sabina is a smart girl. She doesn’t ask too many questions. And she knows I help Hrodebert with the accounts sometimes. I just let her believe that’s where I’m going,” she explained. “But I know she worries about me, and that it’s hard for her to sleep until I get back, so I have to go.”

“Gallus cares for her,” Carnifex said suddenly. He wasn’t sure why he said it, to be honest. It wasn’t his business, and Gallus’ love life was none of his concern, but perhaps he hoped it would keep Phoenix in his arms just a few moments longer.

She stilled at his words, leaning back for a moment as he draped an arm around her shoulders. “What makes you say so?” she asked, arching an eyebrow as she looked over at him.

“Is having eyes in my head not good enough?” he chuckled, running his hand up and down her bare side. “His eyes follow her everywhere she goes, at least whenever she’s in the ludus. Though I’m sure he wishes he could watch over her in the villa as well. He already made us promise that we’d ensure no harm comes to her.”

“He asked Hrodebert and I to do the same,” Phoenix nodded, recalling the worry that brimmed in her old friend’s eyes when he’d made the request. “I have to say, I’ve known Gallus a long time and I’ve never seen him like this before. It’s like she’s unlocked something inside him. He’s quite attached to her.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so concerned for another person before,” Carnifex agreed, though he frowned slightly as he looked at her. “Except maybe you.” His voice was edged with jealousy as he spoke the words aloud.

As if he hadn’t disliked Gallus, his old rival, enough when he’d first arrived at the ludus, he’d been even more frustrated to see the bond that he and Phoenix shared, a closeness that he could only dream of having with her.

“There’s nothing between me and Gallus,” she told him firmly, placing a hand on the center of his chest as she looked deeply into his eyes. “Nothing except the love borne between a brother and sister, between two people who have survived the worst together. We’ve known each other a long time and we look out for one another, Carnifex. That is all.”

When he didn’t respond, just shifted his gaze moodily, she leaned forward and pressed a long, slow kiss to his lips. When she finally pulled back, she couldn’t help but smirk a little bit. “And as you’ve already so astutely pointed out, he seems to have eyes for no one but Sabina.”

Just as Carnifex only had eyes for Phoenix.

She frequently teased him about how the other girls grumbled in their quarters at night, complaining that he no longer called for any of them the way he used to. It hung unspoken in the air between them, the implication that he now only sought her company in his bed, and what that meant.

“I have to go,” Phoenix whispered, kissing him one last time as she slipped out of his bed and reached for her tunic. “Get some sleep. Magnus has been working you all extra hard lately.”

“Be careful,” he murmured, climbing out of bed as well and wrapping his tunic around his waist as he walked her to the door of his cell. Touching her cheek lightly, he couldn’t resist the urge to press a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I will,” she promised softly, squeezing his hand once before she was gone.

She took a piece of his heart with her, every time she left.

Tiptoeing on quiet feet, Phoenix checked her surroundings to make sure no one was in sight before slipping across the training grounds, trusting the darkness of the night to shield her from anyone who might have been observing from a distance.

Once she was beyond the gate of the ludus and within the confines of the main villa, she breathed a little easier, knowing she would be able to come up with a simple enough excuse should anyone catch her out of the slave quarters.

What she hadn’t been expecting, however, was for Hrodebert to suddenly appear before her, candle in hand as he stepped out of the office where he did most of his accounting work.

Gasping, she slapped a hand over mouth, her heart jumping into her throat as she stopped short in the hallway.

“Phoenix?” Hrodebert asked in surprise, lifting up his candle to better see her face. His eyes were red-rimmed with exhaustion and from his rapid blinks, she could tell they must have been aching from hours spent reviewing numbers and accounts. “What are you doing out here?” he questioned, raising his candle further and glancing over her shoulder.

“Oh, nothing, I just needed to return some things to the kitchen before I went to sleep,” she fibbed, biting down on her lower lip. It would have been easy to lie to a random slave or steward. It was much harder to do so to Hrodebert, who had been one of her closest friends for years now.

“At this hour?” he countered, raising a skeptical eyebrow. He glanced over her shoulder once more, then lowered his voice significantly. “You wouldn’t be coming from the direction of the ludus, would you?”

Her heart sank like a stone inside her chest as her eyes widened. “How did you—?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Phoenix. I know you better than you might think,” Hrodebert said softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “But you need to be careful with him.”

Much to her surprise, Phoenix felt a surge of protectiveness course through her at her friend’s words. “He’s not as terrible as some people think he is, you know. He wouldn’t intentionally try to—”

“I’m not warning you about Carnifex,” Hrodebert interrupted, prompting another shocked look from her.

“I never said that it was—”

“You didn’t have to,” he told her, a small smile playing on his lips. “My eyesight might be poor, but I’m not completely blind, you know.”

She blushed deeply at his words, wondering if anyone else had figured out what she and Carnifex had been up to. “But if not Carnifex, who—?”

“Aurelia,” Hrodebert whispered in hushed tones, glancing over both his shoulders. “You know what she’ll do if she finds out he’s attached himself to you. You need to be very careful, Phoenix. Please.”

She could hear the worry in his voice, and it made her stomach drop.

“Don’t worry, Hrodebert. I’m always careful,” she assured him, reaching out to pat his arm. “Go get some sleep. I promise I’ll come help with the accounts tomorrow night.”

“Good night, Phoenix,” he nodded, heading in the opposite direction toward the male slave quarters.

A few moments later, when Phoenix finally laid back down beside you, thankful to find that you had already fallen asleep, she tried to shut her eyes and shake away the sense of foreboding that Hrodebert’s warning had cast upon her.

He was right, and she knew it. What Carnifex and her had, whatever it might be, was dangerous. She had known it from the start, and she had been foolish to allow herself to become complacent. She needed to talk to him, needed to let him know that her visits to his cell would have to become less frequent. They couldn’t run the risk of Aurelia finding out and ruining both their lives.

Months ago, Carnifex had told her that they should try to snatch moments of pleasure when they could, that they deserved it. But had she not been a prisoner of Rome long enough to know that that could never really be possible?

She and Carnifex stood no real chance at happiness, and she needed to accept that.

Fighting back the tears that suddenly threatened to engulf her, Phoenix wrapped her arms around you and fell into a fitful slumber, promising herself before sleep finally claimed her that she would do whatever she had to do to protect those she cared about most.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #x reader #x female reader #hannix #hangman x phoenix #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #top gun #top gun: maverick #Ancient Rome AU #si vis amari ama ⚔️

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