#dagger squad halloween | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laracrofted · 2 years

Text

baby, it's halloween (and we can be anything)

synopsis: since TGM takes place around Halloween, the Daggers would definitely dress up and go to the Hard Deck Halloween party, right?

pairings: none but many a couples costume

warnings: explicit language, bad irish accents, drinking and mentions of alcohol, anachronistic tiktok trends, all fluff all the time, too many pop culture references, not edited

note: inspired by this ask i sent to @theharddeck. all of the excellent costumes were her idea because i couldn't stop thinking about the mr. and mrs. smith costume all day. for you, darling!

(top gun: maverick is a halloween movie, pass it on. and yeah, i did use a phoebe bridgers lyric for this incredibly unserious fic. title from halloween.)

It is Halloween night, and the Hard Deck is all decked out – and yeah, pun intended – with the best decorations the local stores had to offer. And then a few more that young Amelia Benjamin ordered online with the credit card in her wallet that definitely wasn’t for emergencies only.

Purple lights adorn the wooden pillars, wrapped carefully around the faded stickers and other memorabilia, casting the whole bar in an eerie glow after the sun goes down. Two dozen or so balloons float against the ceiling, black and orange, and any available inch that isn’t blocked by a balloon is expertly covered in more fake cobwebs than Penny has ever seen in her life.

She did, however, have to draw the line upon catching Amelia on top of the bar, trying to stick glow-in-the-dark skeletons into the model planes.

It looks great. And the whole Top Gun team shows up in full costume – including the ones that Penny knows Pete favors for the mission, even if Maverick would never say it himself.

This, for Amelia Benjamin, is simply an opportunity too good to pass up.

[Penny Benjamin enters the single bathroom at the end of the Hard Deck’s back hall, the one that Amelia marked with a HAUNTED BATHROOM sign that made patrons think it was out of order. She sets the phone on the counter and clicks over to the camera, starting the video.]

“Okay, well, I don’t really know how this all works, but I’m Sarah Williams from the movie Labyrinth, and I think…”

She adjusts the too big skirt of her bejeweled ballgown, damn the appeal of authentic poofs and ruffles, and tosses her hair over her shoulder, trying to remember what Amelia told her to do.

“Ahhhh… What was it? Drunkest?”

She has an answer, but unfortunately, Pete had a prior commitment to fly in that Halloween Airshow this weekend. Otherwise, Penny knows Maverick would be here, giving the young hotshots a run for their money.

“Who is here tonight?” A light bulb goes off in her head, probably purple to keep things in theme. “Well, from prior experience, I think Peaky Blinders will be the drunkest tonight. He still owes me $20 for knocking those planes off the ceiling back at Top Gun.”

Gathering up her skirts, Penny gets to thinking, “He still owes me for the two steins last week too. Dammit…” and huffing, exits the bathroom in a whirl of skirts and jewels.

[After a surprisingly intimidating shakedown from Penny Benjamin, Payback makes his way to the out-of-order bathroom. Not before grabbing his WSO by one of the many, many straps on his costume and pulling him away from the gaggle of fawning women in sexy alien costumes.]

“Hello,” Payback says in the empty bathroom, feeling stupid. He digs his cigar out of a vest pocket and re-lighting the end, takes a thick puff. An atrocious Irish accent comes out the other side. “Right, govunah, name’s Tommy Shelby from Peaky fooking Blinders, and I tink that – oi, are you taking the piss then, mate?

And Fanboy smacks him again just for that, knocking the newsboy hat right off his head with a flat palm. “What’s your problem?”

“Can’t hear you, mate,” Payback says, smoke curling from the end of the cigar. He flashes him a good-natured grin around it. “Better pop that helmet off, right, Boba Fett?”

“I’m not…” comes from under the helmet, all garbled.

Damn battery must’ve died in the voice modulator.

(He tried to save a few bucks here and there by ordering off Amazon and not from the Etsy store that designed the rest of the suit. Never again. He should’ve known not to cheap out on perfection.)

Damp curls spring from underneath the helmet as Fanboy pulls it from his head, wiping them across his forehead. They stay there, plastered from the heat and condensation inside the helmet.

“I’m not Boba Fett. I’m the Mandalorian. He’s like… a whole different character, dude.”

He gets a dismissive cigar wave in response.

“It’s all Star Trek, innit, mate?”

“Star Wars. And your Tom Shelby accent needs some work. You’re starting to sound a little Australian now.”

“Can’t sound proper Irish without my cap, and you, sir,” Payback jams a finger into his WSO’s shoulder, then pulls it back when it actually hurts. God, how much did Mickey pay for that suit? “Nicked it from my fooking head, mate. Explain yourself then.”

“You pulled me away from the girls, man. I was this close.” He shifts his helmet from one hand to the other and pinches two gloved fingers, this far apart. “This close, man. They all wanted pictures with me.”

“You can get back to the mask kink brigade later. Penny sent me back here, upon threat of death, mind you. Her daughter wants us all to do some TikTok trend for the Halloween party.”

“Fine,” Fanboy huffs, still pouting over the Star Trek comment. He knows Payback knows the difference. “But I’m putting the helmet back on. Need to get my money’s worth, now that I’ve given up my retirement fund to buy this costume.”

“Whatever you say, Darth Vader.”

“I am not – ”

Payback knocks the helmet the rest of the way down with a closed fist, ignoring the disoriented Mickey that flails around in the background of the video. He puts on his best movie star smile and blows a perfectly round smoke ring at the camera.

“‘Ello there, love, I’m Tommy Shelby. This good man over here is one of those… what’d ya call them? Stormtrooper lads?”

“Reuben, I swear – ”

“And I think,” Payback continues, unperturbed as his WSO makes another grab for the newsboy. “Now I’d bet my life that Mr. and Mrs. Smith are the most binned tonight. I’ve got it on good authority that Mr. Smith’s got a flask in those short shorts of his.”

Smoke curls up from the cigar, and Mickey spots a blinking dot on the ceiling.

“Hey, Payback, d’you want to maybe put that out? It’s getting a little smokey in here.”

“Chill out, Mando. It’ll be – ”

[And some time later, after Federal Fire San Diego cleared the premise and declared it to be a false alarm, probably faulty wiring with all the string lights, Hangman and Coyote make their way back to the bathroom.]

Hangman sniffs the air. “Do you smell that? It stinks back here.”

“It’s a bathroom, dude.”

“Not…” Hangman lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Never mind.”

He finds the phone, still propped up on the counter and brimming with battery life somehow. Adjusts the crisp white button-down in the mirror, pulling it tight over his shoulders.

It is several sizes too large, hanging loose over his firm torso and leaving a scandalous amount of thigh and calf muscle exposed, between the hem and the top of the ruby-red rain boots.

(And yeah, Phoenix, Jake is wearing briefs underneath the shirt. It’s not a free show after all.)

“Well now, I’m certified MILF Angelina Jolie from the iconic 2005 classic Mr. and Mrs. Smith, only gets better with age. I’ll let you guess whether I mean her or the movie.” A dashing wink at the camera. “And Coyote here is…”

Coyote is adjusting the white boxer shorts that keep riding up his muscular thighs – skies out, thighs out and all that – and wonders if Brad Pitt ever had to deal with having such incredible thigh strength on set. Probably not.

His shirt is white and skin-tight, almost see-through, over his chest. “Certified bad-ass Brad Pitt from Mr. and MILF… wait…” He loses his balance a little bit from thinking too hard. “That’s not right. Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Nailed it!”

He flashes an overly proud grin, and Jake wonders if perhaps, Jake might need to cut off his access to the flask tucked into his left galosh. He wanted to have a fake gun stashed in the other one, but Penny spotted him waving it around near the dartboard and confiscated it.

“Right…” Jake deadpans, then turns back to the camera. He loosens the top button of his shirt, popping it open to reveal more of his chest. Metal winks from the gap, the chain of his dog tags. “And I think…. You know what? I think Magnum PI will be the drunkest tonight.”

Coyote looks skyward, shaking his head.

Drunken agitation leaks into his voice. “You know why I think that?”

“Not again,” Coyote groans.

He reaches for the flask, and Mrs. Smith swats his hand away, pointing a stern finger at him, then at the phone.

“Because Magnum PI is slow. He’s not cut out for a real Halloween party. He’s slow in the air, slow on the ground, and slow to handle his alcohol. He’ll be passed out by midnight. I’d put money down.”

And as the Haunted Bathroom door swings shut behind them, the iPhone mic barely picks up on the low mutterings.

..slow...

…nepotism pick...

…fuck with a stupid-looking mustache…

…can’t have the flask, go buy a beer, Coyote!

[Midnight arrives, and Yzma and Kronk from The Emperor’s New Groove enter the bathroom. Holding the miniature trophies that Penny awarded them for a well-deserved first place in the annual Hard Deck Halloween Costume Contest.]

Fixing the neckline of the purple dress (and after definitely flashing a nipple on stage out there), Bob wipes at his drooping eyeliner and puts in another splash of eye drops. Contacts make his eyes so dry.

Phoenix holds the trophy over her head like a gladiator, grinning from ear to ear, flexing her muscles in the cut-off sleeves. “Hello friends and foes, winners and losers, I’m Kronk from Emperor’s New Groove…”

It takes Bob a few seconds to notice Phoenix staring him down.

He straightens up, clearing his throat. “And I’m Yzma, also from Emperor’s New Groove.”

“We think,” Phoenix leans closer, like Amelia’s iPhone is an old friend, and holds onto the edge of the counter with dignity. She probably could’ve left that last victory shot on the table. “that Mrs. Smith will be the drunkest tonight. He’s got a flask in his boot.”

“It’s Coyote’s. I saw him with it earlier.”

A frown wrinkles her brow. “Well, I still vote Mrs. Smith because Bagman’s a douche, and I want him to have a violent hangover tomorrow. I want him to spend his whole day downing Gatorades and fruitlessly wishing for his suffering to end. How’s that?”

Sweat pricks at Bob’s brow. He likes Phoenix. He really does.

(But sometimes, Phoenix scares him a little.)

His swallow is audible. “Yeah. Sure, yeah.”

And Bob keeps to himself that Rooster has been MIA for over an hour now, after cashing in on three bell rings in a row and following a girl in a Sue Storm costume out to the parking lot.

[And now alone, in the backseat of the Bronco, Magnum PI absentmindedly wipes at the lipstick print on his cheek and lets out a loud snore. Humming a tune in his sleep that sounds suspiciously like Great Balls of Fire.]

end note: then, amelia benjamin uploads this to her secret daggersafterdark tiktok account and goes viral. the end.

(making my fic debut with this one, so i would love to hear all your thoughts, and i gave danny's look both ways hair to fanboy just this once because i can.)

#top gun: maverick fic #tgm fic #top gun fluff #top gun fic #dagger squad #top gun: maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #reuben payback fitch #mickey fanboy garcia #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #tgm halloween fic 🎃#laracrofted writes

87 notes · View notes

niobe-loreley · 1 year

Text

Smells Like Halloween Spirit [tg:m]

Dagger Squad + Reader

Belated Happy Halloween!! Gaaah, I'm so late! Hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick, its characters, or plot. I do not own the pictures of the cast. I only own the reader's character/nickname, the fic's banner, and the story of this one-shot.

pictures credit to @fanboygarcia

warnings: the word count. haunted hospital. spooky. reader nickname. platonic reader. slight bobnix. organized ghost hunting. paranormal evidence. comedy if you eat halloween candy while reading.

wordcount: 5k You/Reader = Burton

SUMMARY: you invited the Dagger Squad to hunt for ghosts at an abandoned hospital. They only agreed because you threatened to go there by yourself; plus, you have an awesome paranormal hunting game plan, it’ll be a shame not to test it out. But you know some of them are already regretting their decisions after seeing the spooky building. Especially Fanboy, since he gets to venture alone (lucky him).

20:15

"Do we really have to do this?"

Inquisitive, quivering words from a non-spooky person. You finish putting batteries in your flashlight and look over to them with a wolfish grin. "C'mon, Fanboy, where's your Halloween spirit?" you quip merrily.

"It left when I pulled the shortest straw," he snaps, arms crossed.

“I told you we can switch.” you say.

“Yeah, but they won’t let you.” Fanboy shoots daggers at Rooster and Hangman. He huffs as he playfully bumps you with his hip, “And as if I’ll really let you go in there alone, Burton. No matter how much you like creepy stuff.”

You playfully pinch his cheek. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Micks!” you coo and shove him away, “Now, the game plan!”

Since the teams/pairs have already been established, you begin the briefing of the assigned roles and location, as well as a few reminders.

“Everyone knows and understand their roles and locations?" you inquire.

They give you a scattered response, so you viciously bark at them— "Hey, I asked a question!"

"Yes, ma'am!!!"

"Good.. now, listen well to these reminders."

While everyone keeps their eyes and brains open, Bob jots down your crucial reminders in ghost hunting.

“Always wear your face mask and gloves on. It’s an abandoned hospital, we don’t want any microbes or tetanus now, don’t we?”

“Keep comms on. As much as I want to capture paranormal sounds, it is imperative we contact each other every 5 minutes. But the Getaway Squad will contact us every 12 minutes.”

“Have your baseball bats at the ready at all times. But please be certain before you swing, or else we’ll send each other to the hospital.”

“The Getaway Squad is our foundation. As soon as they call for help, we all go.”

“If any one of the paired teams needs help, inform Maverick or Coyote immediately so they can contact the other squads assigned to them.”

“Got it?" you regard each of them, "Answer me or I'll force you all to go alone in there— yes, even the Getaway Squad."

"Understood, ma'am!!!"

The Investigator squads soon bid their goodbyes to the Getaway duo. Firing up your phone, you begin recording as you excitedly lead them into the hospital. Cautiously stepping through the broken glass doors, you halt at the middle of the lobby and turn to your friends. "Welcome, one and all, to an abandoned hospital!" you exclaim, listening to your voice bounce around the first floor.

Fritz, Halo, Omaha, and Payback choruses a whoop; Rooster, Yale, Harvard, Bob, and Phoenix applauds; Hangman whistles like he's in a soccer game; while Fanboy crosses his arms and grumbles.

"Okay, this is the meetup point." you gesture to the darkness around you, which is briefly illuminated by your headlamp. You then point to a map on wall, directing your phone camera as well. "There are still coherent maps around if your squad gets lost. So, to those in charge of your squad's comms, make sure to always let your location be known during the 5-minute and 12-minute check-ins."

"This is the most organized ghost hunting ever," Phoenix comments, amazed.

You curtsy. "Best be prepared for anything. Plus, no matter how organized it is.. if any of us sees something paranormal, panic will spread like COVID-19."

Everyone regards Fanboy in unison. "Why the hell are you all looking at me?" he yells, frowning.

You laugh. "Even though we might not stay calm in those situations, I would still advise everyone to stay calm. Is that clear?"

"Crystal!!"

"Okay, let's do a short pop quiz to calm our nerves!"

"Pop quizzes irritate me," Fanboy remarks.

"Then stick with that feeling when you're ghost hunting later!" you beam, "Better to be vexed than frightened!— Now, first question.. what's the appearance of the camera person in a squad?"

Bob's hand shoots up. "They're wearing a headlamp, carrying an extra flashlight, and holding the camera all throughout the investigation!"

"Correct!" you give him a thumbs-up, "Second question.. why do we need to separate into teams?"

Halo answers this time. "So that we can explore every nook and cranny while having each other's backs!"

"Nice!— Third, why do we need baseball bats?"

Surprisingly, Hangman is the one to answer next. "To whack the shit out of any ghosts or hobos who threaten our safety."

You and everyone else stare at him in deadpan. He stares back confusedly, saying that he's right.

"In short, for protection." Rooster chimes in.

"Title of your sex tape," Hangman scoffs.

"Thank you, gentlemen." you interject before a royal rumble can start and ruin the paranormal investigation.

The pop quiz continues for another five minutes. You then turn the camera around while the group stands behind you. "We'll be starting our Halloween ghost hunting!" you announce enthusiastically, "Hands in!"

All of you huddle up and place your hands together in the center. "One.. two.. three— GO DAGGERS!"

"Meetup back here in one hour!" you remind, leading your teammates and the other teams to the stairwell.

"Why's it gotta be an hour?" Fanboy cries.

"C'mon, Fanboy, we'll stay with you until the entrance to the East wing." Bob claps him on the shoulder.

"Will you switch with me?"

"No." says Phoenix.

"Aww, worried for your boyfie—" Fanboy croaks in pain after receiving a punch to the gut.

"Say one more thing and we'll take your flashlights."

5th Floor | 21:03

"See you three on the other side!" Fritz waves as he and Halo enter the 4th floor.

"Be careful!" you call and proceed up the staircase.

"So many stairs," Rooster groans.

"How much candy did you eat to still have that energy, Burton?" Hangman asks, huffing and puffing.

You chuckle. "That's between me and my stomach."

Soon, the three of you reach the 5th floor. Hangman offers to push the door open when it only budges two inches. But you tell him it's better for Rooster to help you since Hangman is their safety officer / weapon carrier.

"Shall we start on the rooftop? That way we'll just be exploring the 5th floor for the rest of the hour." you suggest, taking a gander around the blackness.

Rooster shrugs. "Why n—?"

He's cut off by a sudden sound.

With how quiet the abandoned hospital is, a rattling from somewhere in the floor appears as though it's right next to them. "What the fuck was that?!" Rooster whispers, wildly looking around.

"Backs against each other!" you instruct, and the guys oblige.

"Sounds like it came from there," Hangman tips his flashlight towards the west wing.

"Where? Let's move our circle around so I can get it on camera," you start sidestepping, Rooster and Hangman follows suit.

"It's probably just the wind," says Hangman.

"The wind?" Rooster glances at him incredulously.

"Or a rat," you add, zooming the video to the end of the hall, where the flashlight of both your headlamp and phone barely reaches.

"A rat? I thought you believed in ghosts?" Rooster questions shakily.

"Yeah, I do, but I'm a logical believer." you're now zooming in at doorways, trying to capture anything moving (or peeking). "We have to think realistic when ghost hunting, not just believe that every clink or clank is a ghost, doy!"

Hangman snickers. "Scared, Rooster?"

Rooster scoffs. "You wish, bitch."

You swivel around to face them. "Can you two try that one more time but with a British accent and pretend your flashlights are wands?"

"Or maybe you know a spell to make Bradshaw less scared?" Hangman quips, whirling the baseball bat around.

"Why don't you just kiss him?" you retort.

"I thought you're on my side." Hangman frowns.

"I'd rather side with the ghosts." you sashay away to the map on the wall next to the reception desk. "C'mon, the stairs to the roof are straight across here."

You round the reception desk and enter the main corridor dividing the west and east wing; Rooster and Hangman swiftly strides at each of your sides. There's a low groan that attracts your attention back to the reception desk. Looking over your shoulder, you point the camera and notice the stairwell door is halfway closed— when you and Rooster pushed it all the way open earlier.

4th Floor | 21:08

Coats of blackness are periodically vanquished by Fritz's flickering headlamp. He and Halo have ceased their venture to try and fix the device, they're in a lounge area at the east wing.

"No way Burton didn't put fresh batteries in that," says Halo.

"Then, what? I'm being haunted?" Fritz makes ghostly sounds, snorting.

She frowns. "I'm just saying.. it's unlikely the headlamp is broken or has old batteries."

The pair were walking in every room that's open, looking around for any paranormal signs, Fritz aggressively asking the ghosts to show themselves, before moving to the next room. It was after the ninth room they've been in when his headlamp starts acting up.

Fritz is sitting on a single couch with his phone propped against a vase on the coffee table. While Halo is standing between the table and a sofa as she’d rather not have her back turned to the darkness.

"This should do it," Fritz murmurs, taking the batteries out and putting them back in.

"Ingenious.."

"Thanks," says Fritz.

"What?" Halo blinks at him.

He chuckles. "It's only the two of us, Halo. Don't be embarrassed about complimenting me."

"What the fuck are you going on about?"

"You just said ingenious."

She furrows her brows. "I wasn't saying anything until you said thanks out of the blue."

Fritz and Halo share an astounded look, everything going quieter and darker than it already is, until he doubles over with laughter. "Nice try, angel." he snorts, securing the headlamp shut, he slips it on his head and powers it up. "Vióla!"

“Don’t point it at me,” Halo turns away, eyes squinting until they widen abruptly. She swivels and directs her flashlight to where was looking, “Who’s there?! Seresin, I swear to God..!”

Fritz jumps to his feet. “What? What?!”

Halo gulps. “I thought I saw somebody in that room.. same height as Hangman.” and bobs her chin towards the room adjacent to the lounge. “But it was too shadowy…”

“It’s just your shadow,” Fritz sighs exasperatedly, grabbing his phone.

“How could it be my shadow when I’m right here and there’s no mirror to reflect it over there?!” Halo snaps, pointing from the wall behind her to the room across.

Fritz feels his scalp sweating. “Fair point. But I’m not checking that out— have you watched Wrong Turn? And if there’s some insane, experimented freak as tall as Hangman, I ain’t confronting it.”

Halo rolls her eyes. “Would you rather we still go around the floor not knowing if there’s something in that room or not?”

“Well, I’m certain there’s nothing in that room.”

“You just said that there may be a cannibal in there.”

“And if there was, I ain’t walking into its trap.”

“You fucking— shit! Fritz! There it is! Quick, the camera!”

3rd floor | 21:10

Team 4 / The 3rd Floor Squad are either somewhat enjoying their time or trying to preoccupy their thoughts instead of thinking that something lurks in the dark besides their shadows.

Payback frequently hits the doorframes of every room they pass with the baseball bat. Sometimes, he’d even pretend to kick down an imaginary door and yell— “FBI” —while pointing the bat into the room as though it’s a gun. Meanwhile, Omaha is narrating everything he’s recording on his phone, down to the last rusted doorknob. He would also turn the camera to him and Payback from time to time, telling any “ghosts” to take a selfie with them before he snaps a photo.

“Have you had any.. paranormal shit happen to you?” Payback inquires, glancing over his shoulder.

“A few when I was young. But they were only told to me by my family, I don’t really remember them.” Omaha shrugs, “So I don’t really believe them. How about you?”

Payback sighs. “None,” and raps the bat on a closed door thrice. “That’s why I’m excited to see some ghosts tonight. Burton sure knows how to make Halloween more fun.”

Omaha nods in agreement. “Burton is the go-to when it comes to spooky stuff.”

“I hope this becomes an annual event for the squad.”

“Fanboy would disagree.”

The pair roars out laughing in unison, slightly drowning a knock, which Omaha somewhat catches. “Hey, what was that?” he stops laughing, pointing his camera to the closed room they passed. “I heard a knock over there.”

“That was me earlier, dude.” Payback says in between laughs.

“No, we were laughing and there was a knock.”

“Ooh~ somebody finally answered my knocks!”

Omaha brusquely shushes him, steps up to the door, and brings up his fist to slowly knock twice. The sound bleeds into the room and echoes around the hallway hauntingly. Payback shakes his head, looks around, and can’t shake the feeling that they’re being watched.

“Hello?” Omaha calls, glancing at Payback.

[“Hey, you guysssss!”]

“Jesus—!” Omaha jumps back like a cat dumped with water.

[“What’s the situation on the 3rd floor? Over.”] Coyote’s normal voice crackles through the transceiver in Payback’s hand.

Omaha snarls. “Fuck you, Machado!” and stomps back to Payback.

Payback snickers, pressing the ‘talk’ button on the device. “Nothing much.. but you just scared the living shit out of Omaha. Over.”

[“Whoops. Sorry, didn’t mean to. Over.”]

“Yeah, you better be sorry!” Omaha snatches the transceiver, “I thought a ghost or some shit responded when I said hello!— Over!”

Coyote laughs. ["Are you mad because you didn't hear a response? Or because you thought you heard one? Over."]

"Neither! Over!"

"Anyway," Payback snatches the transceiver back, "We're at the.. west wing, finishing up on Room 3-A11 to 3-A20 corridor. Over."

["Copy that. Stay frosty. Over and out."]

"It's still 21:14.. what do we do when we sweep the whole floor and still have time left?" Omaha asks, eyeing the closed door sideways.

"Weren't you listening? Burton said to find a place on the floor that we think is the creepiest and attempt contact there," Payback says and pockets the transceiver.

"Oh, right, right.."

"Let's hussle."

When Payback and Omaha are out of earshot, scratches can be heard from behind the closed door of Room 3-A17. Two soft knocks follow, along with a gentle response in the voice of a little boy.

2nd Floor | 21:21

"I can't believe you're still Team Christopher!"

"I can't believe you won't respect my ship!"

"That's because you said Luke doesn't deserve Lorelai!"

"And I still stand by it!"

Harvard shortly lets out an exasperated yell. While roaming around the 2nd floor's east wing, Yale and Harvard have made a silent agreement to chat in order to think about anything else other than walking around a haunted hospital. TV show after TV show they exchange titles and plots, and even comment on a show that they both have watched.

It's a great bonding experience, if they're being honest.

However, a difference in opinion regarding Gilmore Girls couples has induced a heated kerfuffle.

Their team has yet to encounter anything paranormal. It’s possible the ghosts were disturbed and decided to move to a different floor. Yale likes to encourage that thought to ignore the occasional chill enveloping the back of his neck. Harvard, on the other hand, thinks there’s a cobweb on his shoulder whenever he feels a little weight on it before brushing it off.

In the back of both men’s minds, a terrifying thought remains: what if the ghosts on this floor decide to bother them since they loudly invaded their premises?

With such an oppressive notion, it’s hard for Harvard and Yale to contemplate that their minds may be playing tricks on them. Or that it’s just them feeling such spectral stirrings.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Yale scoffs out of the blue, puffing his chest out, he takes a gander with his phone. “And I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.”

Harvard heaves a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Mind over matter, pleb.”

“You’re scum.”

“You’re a joke.”

“Says the jester.”

“You fucking—!”

“....”

Yale cuts himself off, sharing a wide-eyed look with Harvard, he pans the camera around. “Did you fucking hear that?!” he whispers panickedly.

Harvard gulps. “It sounded like it was behind you.”

“Bitch, don’t say that!” Yale shrieks, blanching from head to toe. “Let’s stand back-to-back!”

They press their backs against each other, eyeing every direction for any threat. Harvard adjusts the angle-head flashlight hooked on his jean pocket and hoists the baseball bat up. Yale tries to hold his phone still and picks up debris from the ground, ready to yeet it at anything that may pop up in their faces.

“Burton, if you’re pranking us, please stop!” Yale laughs shakily.

“She would never.” Harvard shakes his head, “It’s probably either Hangman or Fritz.”

“Show yourselves, pussies!”

“Can you elaborate that it’s our friends who are the pussies and not the ghosts?”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts, okay?!”

“And if there are, my friend over here is insulting our friends not you!”

“Sshhh..”

Harvard glares at Yale over his shoulder. “Don’t shush me, bro!”

“That,” Yale is trembling, “That wasn’t me, bro.”

1st Floor, West Wing | 21:30

“Did you hear that?”

Phoenix turns away from the room she’s inspecting. “Yeah.. probably just the dipshits jumping at their shadows.” she smirks, inclining her head sideways. “I’m surprised you’re cool, calm, and collected.”

“Burton and I actually bond over paranormal things,” says Bob sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah.. you two were watching those top 5 ghosts caught on camera videos a few days ago.”

“Yeah, we were.”

“You know most of those are fake, right?”

“Of course.. but it’s entertaining and creepy, which— as Burton would say— is a fun combination for a good time.”

Phoenix laughs and nods approvingly. “Definitely her ingredients for a nice cup of tea.”

The pair have been meticulously traversing the west wing of the 1st floor, scanning every room from ceiling to wall to floor. Phoenix is a skeptic to the paranormal, more concerned about real people rather than the apparitions of dead ones. While Bob shows concern for both. People have dubbed him as a scaredy-cat for how “soft” he is for a man, which Phoenix scoffs at and tells them that he can watch the Saw movies while eating spaghetti without his eyes leaving the screen.

He and Burton are extraordinary beings, Phoenix respects the two of them equally in and out of fighter jets. As she pans her phone around the darkness, she can’t help but think she’d be lying if she said this isn’t the best time to spend Halloween. Organizedly hunting for ghosts with friends absolutely captures the spooky season’s essence.

“Hey, Phoenix—”

“Pretty bird…”

She swivels around, scrutinizing the corridor they just walked out of. “What was that? Was that you?” she questions, synapses firing fear to her every nerve at the sudden voice that was neither from her nor her partner. She composes herself with a quiet breath in and out.

“No, it wasn’t me.” Bob shakes his head, taking a gander, he raises the baseball bat.

“Hello?” Phoenix calls out, strong yet wary. “Anyone there?”

There’s no answer.

“Maybe it’s just the wind,” she suggests.

Bob gulps. “It’s possible.”

The pair restarts their gait, moving cautiously now, until they halt outside the morgue. Phoenix peers in, the blackness recedes from the light of her headlamp and phone, and she takes two steps in.

“Careful,” Bob says, entering sideways, he keeps his back to the wall and glances out of the corridor.

“Ugh! Smell that?” Phoenix coughs, “The facemask is not helping at all.”

“Do you think there’s still dead bodies in there?” Bob nods toward the mortuary fridges.

Phoenix jabs him on the shoulder. “Why would you think that, doofus?” she sighs exasperatedly, “But to answer your question, no.. this smell is not of a decomposed body. I know because my sister is a mortician.”

“There's probably a dead animal in here. Let’s go,” Bob gently grabs her elbow, leading her out of the room.

Three steps out, they cease as a humming from inside the morgue freezes their spines.

1st Floor, East Wing | 21:33

“Yeahhh~ I’m gonna take my horse to the old town road. I’m gonna.. riiiide ‘til I can’t no more~”

Fanboy continues to sing as he marches around the pool area. His cautious footfalls ricochet around the empty vicinity, like slow, rhythmic clapping. He shortly tightens his grip on the baseball, relaxing after a deep breath in and out, he adjusts his phone on the breastpocket of his jacket. It’s as though he’s fated to explore the haunted hospital on his own, wearing a jacket with too many pockets enough to attach ten angle-head flashlights (but he only has one on the right breastpocket since he’s already wearing a headlamp).

The east wing of the 1st floor isn’t as noisy as Fanboy. Sure, there’s the occasional gust of late October wind, inducing scraping and rattling noises, and the momentary groan of the old building. Other than those, nothing has bothered him, and he has bothered nothing.

No doors swinging on their own.

No whispers in the wind.

No shadows leaping away from the light.

No—

Footsteps behind him.

Fanboy quickly spins around, ready to swing. “Who’s there?!” he demands when he finds no one. “Hello!?”

[“Fanboy, this is Bob. Do you read me? Over.”]

“Fuck,” he flinches at the transceiver crackling and fishes it out of his jean pocket. “Fanboy here, I read you Bob. Over.”

[“Where are you?” Over.]

“At the pool.. but on my way out since I’ve already circled it.”

[“You didn’t check the locker rooms?”]

“No way I’m going in there, Jose.”

Bob laughs. [“Okay, okay.. we’ve got something mind-blowing, Fanboy. You probably won’t believe this, but we heard someone humming in the morgue. Over.”]

“Are you sure it wasn’t the wind? Over.”

[“No, it definitely wasn’t—”]

[“..Hmmm…”]

Phoenix’s gasp shoots out of the transceiver. [“There it is again!”]

[“Did you hear that, Fanboy? Over.”] Bob asks.

“Guys, please, this was supposed to be a check-in. Not a prank! Over!” Fanboy shouts, hastening his pace to the doors.

[“It’s not a prank. Over.”] says Phoenix.

“Whatever—”

Fanboy freezes from opening the door, and once he hears it again, he slowly turns back to the pool area, where footsteps are echoing from. “H-Hello?” he sputters, trying to illuminate every inch of the premises at once, still he finds no one but himself and the darkness.

Hushed footsteps respond to his call, then soon they become rapid, as though the owner is running. And when the footsteps become louder, Fanboy realizes it’s coming nearer— heading right for him.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Parking Lot | 21:36

With nothing else to do, other than contacting the ghost hunters every 12 minutes, and nothing else to discuss.. Coyote invites Maverick to play a mobile game with him.

He offers to the older naval aviator the infamous Two-Player Games. The app consists of a variety of games from sports, board games, and children’s games— but make it all virtual.

Coyote regrets challenging their most-favorite instructor.. because Maverick has won every round. And he owes him a week’s worth of drinks at the Hard Deck.

They have just finished a game of tag, wherein Maverick has held the crown the longest. “How are you beating me?” Coyote is stupidly, exasperatedly baffled.

Maverick lifts a shoulder. “Apparently, instincts can age like fine wine.. kind of like me.”

“Wow, poetic.” Coyote remarks flatly, but he can’t hold being monotonous for long and shares a laugh with Maverick.

The haunted hospital’s parking lot is pitch black if it weren’t for the cloudless sky that freely lets the moon highlight the darkened parts of the Earth. The getaway squad hasn’t experienced anything paranormal, probably because music is slightly blaring from the car’s radio. They decide to let the car run after the first 12-minute check-in— obviously, for emergency purposes.

Not because they thought they spotted a black-eyed child wandering behind the treeline.

A trick of the moonlight and probably just a wild animal, as Maverick reassures.

“Team 2, check-in. Over.” Coyote lifts his finger off the button.

[“Team 2, checking in. We’re near the morgue. Over.”]

“Thanks, Bob.” Coyote pauses, “Fanboy, check-in. Over.”

Fanboy screams through the device. [“COYOTE! HELP!”]

The getaway squad exchange looks. “Fanboy, what’s happening?” Coyote asks puzzled, “Are you okay? Over.”

[“SOMETHING’S FUCKING CHASING ME!”]

[“Fanboy, where are you? Phoenix and I will meet up with you. Over.”] Bob chimes in.

[“I don’t know— I don’t fucking know! Shit!”]

“We should help him,” Coyote begins gathering his things.

“Wait, we can’t leave our post.” says Maverick.

“But—”

He claps Coyote on the shoulder. “Let’s move the car right outside the hospital.” and climbs in the driver seat in a flash, “Contact everyone else about the situation.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Damnit, where is he?” Phoenix pants, waving her phone around, which is still recording, to highlight every corridor.

“Follow the screaming?” Bob suggests and glances behind them.

“Contact him—”

“AAAHHHHH!!”

They exchange wide-eyed looks and rush to where the screaming resounds from. Beams from their artificial lights bounce around the hospital’s blackness like a signal of a rave party. The first floor of the hospital is teeming with their urgent footfalls, echoing from one hallway into another.

“Fanboy!” Phoenix hollers, “I swear if this is a prank..!”

She and Bob round a corner, stopping at the sight of Fanboy bolting through the corridor, they sigh in relief.

“Hey, you’re okay—”

“JUST RUN!” Fanboy bursts past them.

“The hell, man?!” Phoenix yells at him.

“What’s that?” Bob narrows his eyes at the corridor, hearing another set of footfalls.

“What’s what?— BOB!” Phoenix explodes when her backseater suddenly carries her onto his shoulder. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’ll ask for permission later!”

She lightly elbows the back of his head. “That’s not what I meant!”

“Someone was running towards us.” Bob blurts out, evading every debris in the way. “But I couldn’t see it.”

Phoenix looks back to the corner of the corridor— heart dropping at the sight of a shadowed head peeking out. She raises her phone and still sees it through the camera.

“Holy fuck… Bob, go faster.”

Bob obliges, pumping his legs like The Flash, and catches up to Fanboy’s side. Neither of them look back as they hurtle out of the hospital, even Phoenix has kept her eyes down but continues to direct her phone towards their rear.

“What the hell happened?” you ask, strolling out of the hospital with Hangman and Bradley.

“Something was chasing me!” Fanboy cries.

“Something?” you repeat, gesturing for him to continue, you stand at the top of the steps.

“Maybe it was a rat,” Fritz shrugs.

“A rat? After what we just saw?” Halo scoffs.

“You two saw something, too?” Phoenix asks.

“Too?” Fritz begins sweating.

Fanboy glares at him. “Why the hell would I run away from a rat?”

"Alrighty!" you loudly clap your hands five times to silence the growing squabble, "Let's focus on Fanboy for now before we all share our encounters, okay?"

They scatteredly murmur in agreement, you thank them and turn to Fanboy. Just as you're about to interrogate him, you hear a rustle and look over to the entrance. "Heard that?" you ask, pointing your camera to the direction. "It sounded like shoes stepping on glass."

The color on Fanboy's face drains. "Can we get out of here first?" he asks pleadingly.

"I concur," Maverick nods, "I'm getting an unpleasant vibe now that I'm up close to the hospital."

You pout. "But the hospital in the background while we exchange our experiences is brilliant!— Okay, okay, sorry," you quickly say when you sense Fanboy becoming livid, "We can go—"

You stumble forward, but manage to stay in place at the top of the stairs. "Really?" you pull a face at Hangman, "I said we'd go, you don't have to shove me, Seresin."

He looks stupefied. "I didn't. I was actually going to catch you 'cuz I thought you were going to trip down."

"There's a lot of witnesses here.."

"Burton," Phoenix gulps, glancing between you and Hangman. "He didn't touch you."

Your arm moves up on its own. For a second, you think your reflexes have ordered your body to smack Hangman. But that isn't the case.

You let out a yelp while everyone else shouts your name and chases after you. Someone— something unseen is yanking you back to the hospital.

Rooster and Hangman grab hold of you first since they're the closest. Whatever that was pulling you has ceased. "Start the car!" Phoenix yells to Coyote, who snaps out of his stupor and jumps in the driver seat.

Half of the squad clambers in the van while the other half hauls you to follow suit. "Floor it!" Fanboy screams at the top of his lungs, sitting at the rearrest seats, accidentally looking back at the hospital. "I said— FLOOR IT!"

"Wait!" Maverick yells and swiftly does a headcount from the passenger seat, "Everyone's here?"

"Yes!!!" The rest of Dagger Squad yells back.

"So that person by the window near the entrance is not one of us?"

Dagger Squad looks over instinctively. A woman in white is standing by the window, eyes boring straight into each of theirs.

"Of fucking course not— DRIVE!" Fritz shrieks, closing his eyes.

Coyote has practically made the van soar as he drives all of them away from the haunted hospital. No one complains about the first bumpy minutes, everyone is more than glad to have distance between them and the hauntedness.

“OKAY! I DON’T CARE IF YOU HAVE RELIGION OR NOT, AND IF YOU’RE RELIGIOUS OR NOT—" Fanboy bellows, "—WE’RE GOING TO A CHURCH RIGHT FUCKING NOW AND GET BLESSED BY A REVEREND WITH HOLY WATER AND WEAR ROSARIES FOR A WEEK!”

You roar with laughter. “Now, that’s the Halloween spirit!”

A/N: IF THERE'S SOMETHING STRANGE~ IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD~ WHO YOU GONNA CALL?! gosh im so late asdfghjklqwertyuiopzxcvbnm i think this is the first Top Gun fic i posted? altho i actually already made 3 chapters for a Rooster x Reader dagnabbit

17 notes · View notes

demxters · 1 year

Text

—LOVING YOU IS THE ANTIDOTE

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: you didn’t like jake seresin. you tolerated him. if you hadn’t befriended bradley bradshaw, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. he was everything you weren’t. delta chi’s golden boy, popular, desirable, and a charmer. you did not like jake seresin. so why did it hurt when he didn’t want you?

wc: a monstrous 8.6k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of sex/hookups, alcohol and drinking, weed (briefly mentioned), self deprecating thoughts, jake is lowkey an asshole, and language

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Whoever said group projects got easier in college don’t know what they’re talking about. If anything, group projects were the bane of your existence—the reason why you considered dropping out every semester. Being in your third year, you were just barely surviving the group project epidemic. This semester, however, had you at your wits end. All because of a stupid assigned group project.

You had an affinity for being a perfectionist. You were all work and no play. While many of your peers thought it was infuriating, you saw it as your best feature. You got things done. You couldn’t say the same for everyone else. A stick in the mud, a hardass, whatever they chose to call you didn’t matter at the end of the day.

“I’m telling you Nat, they’re imbeciles. The entire time we were exchanging contact information, I thought my head was going to explode from the idiocy spewing from their mouths.” Sitting in the busy dining hall, you rant to your best friend Natasha Trace of the absolute horrors of group mates you’ve been given for this assignment.

You met Natasha at a student mixer in your first year of university. The two of you hit it off immediately from bonding over your tastes for cheesy romance novels and an overly concerning obsession for Dr. Pepper and Smarties. Since then, you two became thick as thieves and haven’t looked back since.

“Maybe you’re being a little too quick to judge,” Nat counters, playing on the remaining peas on her plate with her fork. “You haven’t even given ‘em a chance yet.” That was Natasha for you, ever the voice of reason for your dislike of any person who wasn’t the three you were friends with.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms across your chest with a pout. “If you met them, I bet you would be saying the exact same thing. Besides, they’re frat guys. Isn’t that reason to hate them enough?”

“Why didn’t you lead with that? What’re their names? We can get Mickey to stalk them on Instagram or something.” Her eyes light up at the idea. She doesn’t even give you the chance to answer as she pulls out her phone, no doubt to text Mickey if he could do her a favor.

Mickey Garcia was another one of those close friends of yours. You met him at a Halloween Party where he showed up dressed as Poe Dameron from the later Star Wars movies. Your affinity for Star Wars and a love for Oscar Isaac drew you to him, eventually earning him the affectionate nickname of Fanboy. You introduced him to Natasha and the rest was history.

You swat at her hand, silently telling her to drop her phone. “No. We are not stalking them on Instagram.”

The sound of her text tone going off makes you groan. “Too late. Mick already said he’d do it. So, what are their names?”

You shovel another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth before begrudgingly responding. “Bradley and Jake.” Their names taste like acid in your mouth. So what if you were being a little too quick to judge? You’ve done enough group projects to know this would end up being yet another you would be doing all by yourself.

Natasha’s quiet as she types up their names and sends them back to Mickey. Barely five minutes passes when she receives a response back. “Is this them?” She shows you her screen and at this point, you’ve learned not to question how Mickey could have possibly found them in the sea of Jake and Bradleys that go to your university–let alone pick out the right ones. You nod and she laughs, scrolling through her phone before moving to the seat next to you. “What did I tell you? He found their Instagram, Twitter, and Tinder profiles! God bless, Mickey Garcia.”

You push your head against hers, curiosity killing all resolve you had of not caring. The two of you go through their Instagrams and tagged posts like you were reading the morning paper. There wasn’t anything too surprising about them. It was everything you would expect from a twenty something year old guy in a college fraternity. You hated to admit, however, that they were attractive. You were probably too irritated in class to pay attention to how good looking they are. But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were still dreading to work with the two.

“See?” You tell Natasha, motioning to the photo she has pulled up of Bradley on one of his fishing trips. “They are grade-A assholes. Everything about them screams douchebag.”

“You gotta admit, they’re hot,” she breathes and you smack her on the shoulder.

“Natasha Monica Trace!”

Nat shoves you back before shrugging. “What? Don’t you agree?”

“Of course I do, but may I remind you that looks do not equal brains.” You snatch the phone from her grasp and exit out of Instagram.

Nat places a gentle hand on the crook of your elbow, noticing the tension in your body. “Just give them a chance, babe. What’s the worst that could happen?”

_______

You didn’t think it was possible to be friends, let alone acquaintances with Delta Chi’s favorite heartbreakers. Three months and two parties later, you found yourself tolerating your fellow project partners. Then the impossible happened. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin proved your first impression of them wrong. Well, Bradley did. Jake was the preppy douchebag you suspected him to be. He sat back while Bradley and you pulled his weight. You hated him and his dimpled, Hollywood smile. You hated those lips that knew exactly what to say to get anyone in a three foot radius on their knees. Not to mention those annoyingly green eyes of his.

Once the project was complete you thought you’d never have to interact with them ever again. Oh, how wrong you were. If only you hadn’t offered up your apartment to complete the assignment. Then they wouldn’t have met Nat, Mickey, and Bob. They wouldn’t have invited them to their stupid frat party. You wouldn’t have been forced to see them outside of scheduled study time and your friends wouldn’t have fallen perfectly in line with theirs.

Though you will admit, they weren’t all bad. Surprisingly, you actually appreciated most of their company. Underneath Bradley’s frat boy personality, was a secretly brainy political science major and one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. His other friends, both from Delta Chi, also became fast additions to your little group. Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch were charmers and they knew it. But they were kind and didn’t have an obnoxiously large ego that most frat boys had.

You loved them all, but you couldn’t stand Jake Seresin. No matter how badly he tried to get on your good side, you wouldn’t have it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being another person to fall victim to his charm.

“Well Ace, you’ve somehow managed to ruin the fun. Again,” Jake deadpans from where he sits across from you at the coffee table. He bet that you couldn’t beat him at a round of chess. You took that challenge and beat him in three rounds.

A smug smile overcomes your features as you get up from your criss-crossed position and do a little happy dance at Jake’s obvious disappointment. “Snooze, you lose, Hangman.”

He groans at the appointed nickname you gave him two weeks into knowing him. Jake had been bragging about his latest sexual escapades and Bradley said something along the lines of him leaving his catch of the day hanging, disappearing before morning. The nickname stuck and became universally used within your friend group.

You miss the slight upward tug of his lips when you turn around and head to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water.

Bob, who had been observing each match and quietly serving as referee, broke Jake out of his reverie. “You went easy on her.”

Jake avoids Bob’s inquisitive stare and focuses on the faded chessboard. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” he quips, matter of factly. “I’ve seen you play against Bradley. You’re better than that.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t want her to feel bad for losing,” He shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Or maybe you just like seeing her win.”

Jake chucks the pillow he was sitting on at Bob, quickly shutting him up with a squeak. You make your way back to the table, eyeing the two boys at their strange behavior. “You up for one more round, Seresin?”

He checks his watch. “Can’t. Have a thing with Sarah tonight.”

The information makes your heart drop just a little bit in your chest, but you regain your composure. You clear your throat and harden your features. “Oh. Have fun at your…thing.” He didn’t have to tell you it was a hookup for you to know it was a hookup. He had “things” every week, which is why you didn’t understand why this time hurt you just a little more.

The room is silent after Jake leaves with you washing the dishes while Bob sits and reads on the couch. You anxiously looked to the clock that was incessantly ticking away on the wall, desperate for Natasha to get home. You loved Bob, but right now you needed to have some girl talk.

You exasperatedly sigh, harshly wiping your palms on the dish rag on your shoulder.

Bob hums, silently questioning what the matter was.

“Did Nat say when she was coming home?” You throw the rag on the counter and plop yourself down beside him. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t responded.”

Bob thinks for a minute, then responds, “Nope.”

“Well how long is it gonna take her to run this damn errand?”

One thing about Bob: he was a shit liar. The tips of his ears immediately got red and his blue eyes never had the guts to meet those he was lying to.

“Bob…” You scoot closer to him, noticing the tell tale signs of his dishonesty.

“What?” His voice cracks and so does his last bit of dignity.

“When’s Natasha coming home?”

One look into your narrowed eyes is all it takes to have Bob breaking his resolve. “Alright, fine. She said she was going to be out past dinner.”

“Why?”

The frown on your face almost breaks his heart. “She–well…” He hated lying to you, especially when you looked at him like that. Your little pout and wide eyes had him cursing silently. “She went on a date.”

“Oh.” Your brows screw up in confusion. “Then why didn’t she just tell me?”

Bob cringes. “Don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she will kill me.”

You hold your pinky out to him with a small smile. He links his with yours and the two of you press a soft kiss to your fisted hands before pulling away.

“Alright, fine. She didn’t tell you because she’s going on a date with Javy,” he rushes out.

You blink, processing the information. You and Nat told each other everything. Why did she feel the need to hide this from you? You voice your thoughts out loud and Bob shakes his head.

“She thought you were gonna blow up at her for going out with him. You know, because he’s Jake’s best friend and all.” Bob watches you cautiously. Your temper was unpredictable sometimes. One second you would be fine and the next you would be blowing your top off. He wasn’t sure which side of you he was going to get this time.

A sniffle leaves you and you wipe at your nose with the back of your hand. “Why would I get mad at her for that?”

“Because you haven’t had the kindest of opinions towards women who date frat guys, especially Delta Chi ones.”

You vaguely recall that conversation. You had called those women “airheads who are addicted to sex.” But you didn’t mean it. You were drunk and bitter about the fact that you were in your third year of college and still single. Had you known Nat wanted to go out with Javy, you would’ve kept your big mouth shut. “But I like Javy,” is all you can say.

Bob nods. “Yeah, but you hate Jake.”

Your gaze snaps back to him. “So?”

“So, she thought going out with him was like… I don’t know. Fraternizing with the enemy?”

“But Javy’s my friend. I don’t care about how close he is to Hangman. He isn’t like him,” you huff. Pulling your knees to your chest, you take a deep breath. “If he makes her happy then…she should go out with him. I just wish she told me.”

Bob wraps his arm around you, tugging you so your head could rest on his shoulder. He knew there was more to this than you let on. But he let it slide, choosing to comfort you in your conflicted feelings. “When Nat gets home, you should tell her that.” “I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Good.”

It’s at that moment that the apartment door swings open, revealing Mickey with Jake in tow. Your head snaps up and you see Jake standing there with his mouth agape.

Mickey nods at you and Bob in quick greeting before pointing a thumb at the man behind him. “Idiot forgot his jacket again. It’s a good thing he caught me in the parking lot.”

You laugh awkwardly, stiffening in Bob’s hold.

You feel his arm drop from around your shoulder as he clears his throat, looking away from Jake.

“Sorry,” Jake’s voice is rough and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Bob waves him off. “It’s all good. You weren’t interrupting anything. Right, Ace?”

You can only nod dumbly, still not taking your eyes off of Jake’s vibrant green.

Jake clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Alright. Well, thanks again for letting me in, Mick. I’ll um, catch you guys later I guess.” He steals one last look of you snugly wrapped up in Bob before rushing out the door with a small shake of his head.

Jake doesn’t speak to you for a week after that.

_______

The tune of Slow Ride hits your ears and you groan into your cup. Bradley looks at you in amusement from where you sit beside him on the stairs. The boys had decided to unwind from yet another stressful week with yet another Delta Chi party. You were pretty adamant on sitting this one out, mainly because you didn’t want to see Jake or his new conquest of the week. Things have been tense to say the least. The fact that you and Jake didn’t get along wasn’t new to the group, however as the days passed, your nonstop bickering eventually turned to tolerance for one another. Enough to almost say the two of you were even becoming friends.

Jake still annoyed you to your core but his company somehow managed to grow on you. Which is why his sudden radio silence upset you. It got to the point that you couldn’t even look at him without seeing red.

“This is stupid,” you grumble, taking another swig of the cheap beer in your cup. You hated these parties. Normally, your friends wouldn’t mind you opting out to stay home instead. However Nat had noticed how your sour mood progressed throughout the week and concluded that you needed to get out to places that weren’t the lecture halls. She begged you to come with her to the party Delta Chi was throwing this weekend. For me? she pleaded, knowing just how much you hated saying no to her. Now that you were here, you longed to be back in the confines of your apartment, snuggled under your covers with a cup of tea and Emily Henry to keep you company.

Instead, you found yourself crammed in a two story frat house that was filled to the brim with sweaty and intoxicated bodies. The music was too loud and the smell of alcohol and weed was sure to be stuck on your clothes by the night’s end. The only thing keeping you sane was Bradley’s company and you knew that as the night progressed, even he would soon disappear.

“You want me to take you home?” Bradley asks, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him.

You shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s fine. Besides, I have a feeling you’re gonna get lucky tonight, Bachelor.” You nod towards the blonde in the corner of the room whose eyes haven’t left Bradley since the two of you migrated to the staircase.

He was practically drooling under the dimmed lights as he followed your motions. Bradley sends the girl a smirk before looking at you wordlessly.

“Go,” you urge him with a laugh.

He lets out a breath, downing the rest of his drink and giving your knee a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you!”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe!”

Bradley winks at you over his shoulder. “Always am!”

The small smile on your lips fades as you watch Bradley go and flirt with the pretty blonde. You were never the center of attention, never the type that anyone gave their time of day to. You were average. Plain boring. The constant reminder of that was there when you hung out with the boys. You loved them, but hearing the way they talked about other girls did take a stab at your self esteem. You used to make fun of them with Natasha but then she started dating Javy, and became one of those girls. And you don’t blame them, your best friend was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. You convinced yourself that you liked the lack of attention and isolation. But every now and then, you wished someone saw you and thought, Wow. Now that’s someone I want to be with.

You push yourself off the carpeted stairs, deciding to find Reuben or even Nat and Javy. The cup in your hand is empty anyways. Might as well get a refill while you’re at it. You can barely move through the sea of people that are packed into such a small space. People were grinding against each other left and right, making you want to hurl. You push your way through the kitchen, finally making it to the open patio where beer pong tournaments and sloppy make outs occurred. The cold, night air feels nice against your hot and sweaty skin. You close your eyes, leaning up against the wall and drown out the music and laughter around you. Peace. You just needed a moment of peace.

You’re too caught up in your own little bubble to notice the presence that saunters up beside you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”

The voice startles you from your moment and your eyes snap open. A hand reaches up to your racing heart and you turn to meet the source of your sudden adrenaline rush. The man beside you is familiar, you’ve seen him once or twice on campus and at other Fraternity events the boys had invited you to. Not to mention, incredibly good looking as well.

He holds a hand up, almost like he was trying to calm a rattled horse and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You swallow, sharply exhaling and squeezing your plastic up in your hand to ground yourself. “It’s alright.” You avoid his gaze and nervously pick at the chapped skin of your lower lip.

“Billy Avalone,” he introduces himself with a confident grin. “I think I’ve seen you ‘round with Seresin and Bradshaw.”

You finally look up to meet his gaze and offer him a dry smile. You offer him an introduction of your own. “Nice to meet you.”

Billy ever so smoothly scoops up your free hand in his and places a soft kiss to the upside of your hand. Your cheeks heat up at his delicate touch and your knees almost buckle at the glimmer in his eyes. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

His manners make you chortle and you snort, pulling away from him to hide behind your smirk behind your palm.

Rather than drawing away from you, he finds himself intrigued and raises a brow at your amusement. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you say in between laughter. You grasp your cup with both hands before looking at him with a much more genuine smile on your face. “It’s just… You are not what I expected from a Delta Chi.”

He nods knowingly, remembering your association with Jake and Bradley. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

There was that ego you were looking for. But it doesn’t deter you like it normally would, in fact you find yourself leaning into him. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You shut your mouth immediately after that, quite surprised by your sudden burst of confidence.

Billy leans into you just as much, letting his hand brush against your forearm. It sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps arise on your bare skin. “Nice try, but that’s to be revealed only if you agree to go on a date with me.”

There was no malice in his tone, no laughing idiots around to signify that anything about this was a joke. The look in Billy’s eyes was full of genuine hope and for the first time that night, you find yourself forgetting all about Jake Seresin and immerse yourself in the idea of Billy Avalone. He was charming and attractive. Lean, but broad enough for you to tell that underneath the jacket he wore was all muscle. You found it hard to believe that Billy had any interest in you and yet, here he was, asking you out on a date. Any other day, you would’ve taken a hard pass.You would’ve told him to move along and put his energy into another person who would consider saying yes. But then you think of Nat and Javy and just how utterly lonely you feel, deciding that Billy was worth the chance and the risk.

You open your mouth to respond, but stiffen at the feeling of warmth that encapsulates your back. You don’t need to turn to know exactly who it is. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and cinnamon washes over you and you resist the urge to fall into him.

“Billy,” Jake greets, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer to you. His chest just barely brushes against your back sending a new wave of warmth to your neck and cheeks.

“Hey, Jake.” Billy’s gaze flicks to Jake’s before he focuses his attention back on you, still eagerly waiting for your response.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of Jake’s hand on your lower back and you turn to look at him with furrowed brows. His usually well kept hair was stuffed under his backwards baseball cap and despite the chill of the night air he was in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans.

The air between the three of you is heavy as Billy tries to dismiss Jake’s presence. “So, what do you say about that date?” He smiles at you sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Before you can utter a response Jake steps in front of you and blocks you completely from Billy’s view. “Let’s get out of here, Ace.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You scoff, balling your hand up in a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of Jake’s perfect head. “Excuse me? Seresin, will you knock it off?”

He ignores you, taking a step closer to Billy. Jake straightens his spine. “She’s off limits. Got it, Avalone?”

“Well, shit, Jake. If that’s your girl, why didn’t you just say so?” Billy gives you an apologetic look from over Jake’s shoulder.

Jake huffs, almost like an angry bull. “Off. Limits.”

You frown, adamantly shaking your head. “Wait, Billy. I am not his girl.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I even asked. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He knew better than to pick a fight with Jake Seresin. His defeated gaze darts to the floor before he makes his way back into the house.

Your chest is heaving as you watch Billy walk away. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream more. You decide on the latter, not deeming Jake worthy of your tears.

Jake turns to face you, still smiling proudly to himself. His face slightly falls when he meets your eye. He knows well enough that you were not happy. “Ace?”

You push at his shoulders. “What the fuck, Hangman?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hang on–”

The palm of your hands make contact with his broad shoulders once more. “Are you kidding me?” You shove him again but Jake’s hardened features don’t falter. “Who gave you the right? Someone was finally interested in me and you just had to drive them away. Your ego really couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting attention. Is that it?”

“Ace, wait.” He tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away.

“No, fuck you, Seresin. You can’t…” Your resolve breaks and the tears that sat on your lash line spill over. “You can’t just ignore me for a week only to talk to me after chasing away the one chance of a boyfriend I’ve got. That’s not fair.”

“You don’t understand. Billy isn’t good enough for you.”

“Yeah?” You look at him with tear stained cheeks. “Then humor me. Who is?”

Jake’s words get caught in his throat as he watches you wipe your tears away with the palm of your hand. He wanted to take your face in his hands and brush those tears away. But he knew you wouldn’t let him.

“That’s what I thought.” You brush past him, knocking his shoulder with your own. “I’m not like the other girls you mess around with. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to feel wanted too.”

He calls after you, realizing just how horribly he screwed up. But you continue on back inside, probably trying to find Nat or Reuben to take you home. He knew that you weren’t like the other girls. You were different, you were better. You were everything he wanted and more. From the moment he met you, he was hooked. It scared him at first. You were the complete opposite from the girls he usually set his sights on. You were hard headed, independent, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. You challenged him and he liked that. You weren’t shallow like everyone else and you made him feel seen.

He never thought a group project would lead him to you. You iced him out at first, and admittedly he knew he deserved that. Then he got to know you and he realized he never wanted to stop. Jake wanted to be the one on the receiving end of your jokes and the affection you gave to those close to you. He dropped his asshole attitude and made the effort to get you to see the real Jake Seresin. And it worked. He was doing so well to finally get you to let your guard down around him. Yet all that work, all that progress, went down the drain because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

By the time Jake caught up to you, you were dragging Natasha out the door with Javy on your tails. His heart dropped to his stomach and he wished he could turn back time to one week ago. Before he hurt you and made you cry.

_______

Your goal was to forget Jake Seresin ever existed. You threw yourself into your work, locking yourself in your room and spending more time in the library than your own apartment. Now that Nat was officially with Javy, the boys were around more often and you just weren’t ready to face him yet. It wasn’t fair to everyone else, you knew that. But it was easier for you to push them away. You turned back into that academic machine you were before Bradley and Jake forced you out of your shell. You didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t join the gang for movie night. Your new friends were your coursework. And when that ran out, you turned to your favorite show reruns for comfort.

You ignore the series of knocks on your door for the third time tonight. Natasha sighs in defeat, turning back to the group with a shake of her head. “I told you. She’s not coming.”

Reuben frowns. “Did you tell her Jake wasn’t coming with us?”

Everyone was aware of your complicated relationship with Jake. The small dance the two of you did was obvious to everyone but yourselves. It was only recently that Jake finally admitted why you’ve been hiding yourself away. If it weren’t for Javy holding her back, Natasha would’ve tore Jake to shreds.

“I did.” Natasha knew you and she knew you were embarrassed for lashing out at Jake the way you did. Hiding was the safest way to avoid facing yet another humiliating confrontation about your behavior.

You’ve never spoken to Nat directly about your insecurities, but she saw them in the little things you did. Not bothering to wear extravagant makeup or clothing, putting up a hard front, and pretending not to care. Deep down she knew you cared about how you were perceived. You did care whether or not people found you desirable. You wanted the cliche, movie romance. You wanted someone to sweep you off your feet, just like Westley in The Princess Bride.

Never, have you let those insecurities break your spirit. Until now. She has never seen you so small. She didn’t understand how Jake Seresin managed to knock you down with just one hit.

But it has been nearly two weeks since the party and Natasha was done with your groveling and self pity. You were going to get out of your room and you were going to have fun.

“Just give her a second,” Reuben whispers, having just a little bit of faith left in you.

It was as if you felt the little piece of hope Reuben had left for you because suddenly, the door of your room swings open and a breath of relief leaves both of your friends. You had decided to come out and join them after all. Nat had told you it was just a casual hangout amongst your friends, bar Bradley and Jake. You settled on changing into an oversized Naval Academy sweatshirt you had thrifted and an old pair of faded jeans.

Nat hadn’t seen you in anything other than pajama tees and sweatpants so to her, this was a big win.

Reuben smiles widely at your appearance before coming up to you and gathering you into his arms. “There you are.” His words and affection pulls an unexpected giggle out of you, soothing Reuben and Nat’s nerves. “How’ve you been, Ace?”

You shrug, shifting in his hold as he keeps an arm around you. “I could be better. But I guess I could be worse too.”

Natasha hooks your arm with hers, taking you from Reuben’s grasp. “You ready to go? Javy is waiting in the car with Bob and Mickey. I was thinking we could go to The Hard Deck using your car. You know, like old times.”

That brings a ghost of a smile to your face. The Hard Deck was a place of refuge for you and your group of friends, despite it being a Navy bar. You and Mickey found it by accident, stopping over at the nearest institution because he had to use the bathroom really badly on a drive back to campus. The bartender, Penny Benjamin, was sweet and treated you all like her own children. You haven’t seen her in awhile and just knew a visit to your spot was long overdue. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The drive to the bar brings a bit of your old spark back. Natasha had the windows rolled down while the two of you belted out your favorite songs at the top of your lungs. She filled you in on all the things you missed from the past couple of weeks, strategically leaving out any anecdotes involving Jake. Though, Nat hasn’t seen him much since the party. It seemed as if he was taken over by the spirit of an old Delta Chi member. He was slumming it with the sorority girls and stayed out late partying with the other guys of his Frat. Bradley had tried to snap him out of it, but he reverted to his old ways. Back to before they met you.

Upon arriving at The Hard Deck you exchange a round of pleasantries with the rest of your friends who were glad to see you finally out of, as Mickey had called it, your “Bat Cave.” You volunteered to grab some drinks for the rest of the party while they settled in your usual booth in the back.

You returned to the table with beers for the guys, a club soda for Bob, a Mai Tai for Nat, and a lemonade for yourself. The night was spent full of laughter and warmth as you found yourself slipping back into your natural groove of things. Soon, your once dampened mood started to dissipate.

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on with Professor Mitchell and Penny,” Mickey slurs.

The group erupts into chaos then, one talking over the other and you can’t help but laugh as you lean into Mickey’s side. You missed this. You were so hard headed that in the process of blocking one person out, you put it upon everyone else. But you were here now and he wasn’t. That’s all that mattered to you.

Reuben is the one to calm the group down. “Alright, alright. You’re saying, P. Mitchell and Penny are… romantically involved. Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“DnD club meets here on Tuesdays and coincidentally so does Professor Mitchell,” he shrugs.

“Did you say DnD club?” Javy’s wheezing between breaths and Natasha has to slap him on the chest to get him to stop.

Mickey rolls his eyes. “I have a life outside of you guys, you know.”

“Yeah, but DnD club?”

“What’s wrong with DnD?” Bob chimes in, slightly offended.

Nat slaps him again. “Javy!”

“Right, sorry. Please, continue.”

“Actually, I don’t think I want to,” Mickey narrows his eyes at the man.

“Mick, he was joking. Please finish what you were saying.” You tap him affectionately on the shoulder with a gentle smile.

He attempts to continue his story when a smack to the tabletop catches all of you off guard. You tear your gaze from Mickey to be met with Bradley Bradshaw clad in one of his signature Hawaiian shirts as he leans against the table.

You give him a pained smile, knowing that where Bradley went, Jake wasn’t far behind.

“Good to see ya, Ace,” Bradley nods.

“You too, Brad,” you tell him softly. And you meant it.

The group falls uncharacteristically quiet and you feel Natasha give your knee tight squeeze.

“Didn’t know the gang was getting back together.” The familiar snark of the one person you didn’t want to see rings through your ears. Jake Seresin struts over with that stupidly cocky grin of his and unsurprisingly, another sorority girl on his arm.

No longer caring for pleasantries with the man, you roll your eyes. You hate to admit that it stung to see him with yet another woman. A small part of you hoped that maybe he’d show up empty handed and acknowledge your presence. That didn’t happen and it felt like a knife to the chest. What did you expect? Of course, nothing has changed since the last time you saw him. While you were feeling worse than ever about yourself, Jake had absolutely zero cares in the world. He only cared about himself, he always would.

Javy was the only one who had the stomach to greet him with a simple, “Hey.”

He chuckles, almost mockingly, as the girl on his arm tries to gain his attention and pull him to the bar. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?”

“Because no one wants you here, Bagman,” Natasha spits.

Jake brings a hand to his chest, acting hurt at her insinuation. “You wound me, Natasha.”

She gives him the finger in response.

“Now does everyone not want me here? Or is there a certain someone who doesn’t want me here?” He raises a brow and his bright green eyes land on you.

You avoid his gaze and you hear Bradley hiss Jake’s name.

“What? I’m just saying. It’s pretty obvious someone didn’t want me here and we all know who.” Jake doesn’t care that the girl who had been hanging off of him moments ago found someone else to play with, abandoning her post to flirt with another guy over at the pool tables. He had your attention and to him that was enough.

You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, knowing damn well he was just toying with you at this point.��

“Stop.” This time it’s Javy who speaks up, surprising Jake. “If you only came over here to be a dick then I suggest you leave.”

The light mood from earlier has completely died and you know that once he leaves, nothing can bring it back.

“Ace.”

He calls you out directly this time and you can’t hold it in any longer. All the hurt and anger he caused bubbles up to the surface. Part of you wants to talk to him, clear the air up a bit and give him a chance to apologize. The other part of you, the more rational part, decides to ignore him entirely.

You quietly ask Natasha if you could pass and her and Javy get up to stand to the side to let you through. You purposely angle your body so your back is towards Jake, announcing that you were going to get another drink before heading in the direction of the bar.

Jake moves to follow you, only to be stopped by his best friend.

Javy grabs his wrist with a disapproving frown. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Let go, Javy,” he absent mindedly demands. His eyes never leave your figure as you make your way through the crowd.

“No. You’re being an asshole, man. What happened to the guy who was repeatedly texting me to make sure she was okay? I told you where we were because I thought you were going to apologize. Not do… whatever that was.” Disappointment shines in Javy’s deep brown eyes.

Bradley slides into the space where you once were, watching what was about to unfold with the rest of them.

“Wait a minute, you told him we were going here? Javy!” Natasha looks at her boyfriend in disbelief.

“I’m sorry! This idiot told me he wanted to make it up to her.” He gestures blindly to Jake who was running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

Natasha snorts. “Unbelievable,” she swears under her breath.

“Nat–” Jake starts, but she cuts him off in an instant.

“No. You stay away from her, got it? She’s had enough of your games, Seresin, and quite frankly so have I.”

“I messed up. I know I did. But please, please just give me a chance to explain.”

He takes Natasha’s silence as an unspoken truce. “I care about her. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I was gonna tell her, you know. Then I saw her with Bob and I realized that she could do so much better than me. So I did what I do best. I pushed her away.”

Bob flushes red at the mention of his name.

“What is there to say about myself other than that I’m your typical, college fuckboy? The thing is, I was fine with that reputation. I was good at doing things on my own. Then I met Ace and I realized she’s my antidote. That girl gave me tunnel vision. Suddenly, I’m looking at my future and I want to do more with my life than be known as a college heartbreaker. The one thing I know to be true is that I want to be better with her by my side.”

“Why should I believe you after the way you treated her?” Natasha’s gaze narrows, still not fully convinced.

He swallows harshly. “You have every right not to. I wouldn’t believe me either. But you’ve got to understand that I never realized just how much she really meant to me until I almost lost her.” There’s a look of defeat that crosses his features, and his head falls to his chest.

Nat’s hardened stare falters ever so slightly. “To Billy. But wait, I don’t understand. What about that girl you came in here with?”

“Oh, she’s here for free booze. I needed to get Ace’s attention somehow.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Jake nods, regret shining in his eyes. “I know. Listen, I’m not good at relationships.”

“Trust me, we know,” Bradley mutters under his breath.

Jake shoots him a quick glare before continuing. “I don’t know how to do them. For Ace, I’ll learn. I would do anything for her. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and I need to fix them before it’s too late.”

Natasha was conflicted. She looks at Javy who meets her gaze with a soft smile. Then to Reuben and Bradley. Finally, her eyes land once more on Jake. She found herself in the same dilemma she was in before she started dating Javy. Their reputation precedes them. You were the one to warn her of Delta Chi’s womanizer ways. Yet she still gave Javy a chance and it was the best decision she ever made. She knew deep down that these guys had good hearts. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew Jake did too. He was kinder with you, softer. You always brushed him off but Nat saw the way he affected you. He made you happy and you deserved to be. If she could give Javy that chance, shouldn’t she extend it to Jake too?

She groans with her head in her hands. “Fine. Fine.”

Jake’s eyes light up, clearly expecting another rejection. “Really?”

“Yes. But I swear if you hurt her again, if you break her heart, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

His stomach churns at the thought, knowing full well that she meant it. “Yes, ma’am,” he salutes.

“Now go get her before it’s too late.” In other words, Natasha had finally given him her blessing.

Jake’s dejected state is replaced with one of determination. He mouths an appreciative thank you, before setting his sights on you.

“Forget DnD club, I need to hang out with you guys more often because that was better than a Netflix drama,” Mickey babbles, making Bob smack him lightly on the back of his head.

With her arms crossed, Natasha stares out the window wistfully. “I just hope he can make things right.”

Wrapping his arms around Nat, Javy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.”

_________

“Hey Pen, can you just tell Natasha to ride home with the boys? I think I’m going to head out.” You place a wad of cash on the bar top, signaling for her to close your tab.

The woman frowns, noticing the bothersome frown on your face. “You sure, sweetheart?”

Downing the last of your lemonade, you nod. “Thank you, for the advice and everything.”

“Of course. Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”

A tight smile pulls at your lips in farewell. You push your way through the rowdy crowd, breathing deeply once you make it outside.

You curse under your breath. You didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight. You eye your car in the distance, deciding whether to make the trek or go back inside until it stops. The sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention and your heart leaps out of your chest.

“Ace,” Jake Seresin calls out, desperately trying to reach you.

You throw all caution to the wind and run out into the pouring rain, too exhausted to deal with him right now.

His shoes squeak and splash through the puddles on the asphalt. Not caring that he was soaked to the bone, he runs after you. Jake calls out for you again but you continue on. For once, he doesn’t find himself admiring your stubborn attitude.

You throw a quick glance behind you, hoping to see that you’ve lost him, but Jake’s strides are longer than yours and he has closed more of the distance between you two than you thought. A shiver racks your form and your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You find yourself regretting your decision but there’s no way you can take it back now. You shove your hand into your pocket, frantically pulling out your car keys once you make it to your car.

Jake sees you shiver as you try to unlock your car. You just barely get the driver’s side to open when he comes up behind you and presses the door shut. Your back is to his front and he pleads for you to turn around.

You hear him before you see him. You don’t want to turn around. You can’t. You know the second you look into his opalescent green eyes, your resolve will shatter. “Get off, Jake,” you demand impatiently.

“Please look at me, please.” The desperation of his voice startles you. Never, have you heard Jake Seresin say the word ‘please,’ and never have you heard him beg.

You’re shaking as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You bite into your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. From the rain or from the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks, you are unsure.

“Ace,” he breathes.

His breath is hot against the skin of your neck soothing you from the cold. But still, you don’t budge.

Jake finds himself getting frustrated and he runs his hand through his damp hair, moving it away from his eyes. He can barely see your reflection in your car window, his vision blurred from the raindrops that cloud his vision. But the pale moonlight and dim streetlamp shows him enough to see that you feel just as hurt as he does, if not more. “Fine. You don’t have to look at me. I just need you to listen.”

You say nothing.

He exhales through his mouth as he recalls what he wants to say. “Remember when we first met and you asked me if I actually had a brain or if I just thought with my dick? That was the moment I knew you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. Usually, I’d have girls swooning over me left and right, but not you. You weren’t fazed by me in the slightest and that intrigued me. Everything about you intrigues me. Which is why I was so eager to get more out of you. I poked fun. I made jokes. I made sure that your attention was almost always on me because when it was, it gave me the best view of each and every thing you had to offer. Like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re trying not to cry.”

Your breath hitches in your throat from his words, heart going faster than that goddamn roadrunner.

“Come on, Ace.”

How could you deny him when he spoke with so much conviction? You spin on your heel to face him. He’s soaked, just as you are, and yet you think he has never looked so beautiful. As you look at him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside and you sniffle from the cold. “What do you want, Seresin?”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

You look away from him. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Hey, I’m serious. I know I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.”

There’s a sincerity in his tone that throws you off. “Then why? If you feel so bad about it, why did you do it?”

“Because… Because I…” He’s nervous. Of all the times he has ever spoken to you, this is the one time he has felt this way.

Your patience is wearing thin so you shake your head and run a hand down your face. You were so tired of him holding out on you. “You know what? All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at those other girls. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” Once the floodgates opened, it was hard to get them locked up again.

You might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest instead of saying that. The effect it had on him would’ve been all the same. “Oh, baby,” he cups your face gently between his calloused hands and strokes his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. The rain made it hard for him to tell which marks were tears and which were rainwater, but he treated them all the same. “Those girls have nothing on my Ace. You are more than enough. You are everything and I was too blind to see it until now.”

“What?” You whimper.

God, does he want to kiss that pout right off your face. “I don’t look at you the way I look at everyone else because I don’t want them the way I want you.”

“And how is that, Jake?”

That alone gives him a glimmer of hope. His heart skips a beat and his stomach erupts in butterflies.“You called me Jake,” he grins. “You never call me Jake.”

You scoff, not realizing the name slipped. “Answer the question.”

“I want every part of you. I want late nights and study sessions. I want to be the first one you call and the last one you text goodnight. The good, the bad, all of it. As long as it’s you.”

The honesty in his gaze makes you want to believe him. Because that’s all you ever wanted from him. So bad. But he has hurt you one too many times. You don’t think you’d be able to take it if he did one more time. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

Jake takes the leap, resting his forehead on yours. When you don’t pull away, he confesses, “You don’t. But I will spend every day proving to you that I’m never going to make that mistake again.” He brushes some of your damp hair away from your face and admires how ethereal you look in this light. “One date, Ace. Let me make it up to you.”

You relish in his warmth, the aching hurt in your chest finally subsiding. The raging storm in your heart is finally calm. “One date. That’s all you’re getting.”

The smile that spreads across his face is the brightest you’ve ever seen. He no longer feels lost now that he has you. “That’s all I need, darling.”

For once, you believe him.

add yourself to my taglist!

tgm taglist (does not include ‘seasons’ tags): @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl

a/n: this was supposed to be short, yet here we are. i hope you enjoy frat!jake as much as i do <3 as usual, huge thanks to @briseisgone love u hun.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x f!reader #jake seresin oneshot #hangman oneshot #frat!jake seresin x reader #college!au #demxters writing

1K notes · View notes

dckweed · 6 months

Note

Sooo glad you posted a second part of the Jakex best friend baby story. A huuuge hug for you =) so in a matter of fact I squealed a bit as I read that you're accepting requests for this story. So I would have an idea, maybe you like it, if not I'm still going to read EVERYTHING you write =)

I'm thinking of reader is feeling off for days, like feeling dizzy and stressed out. The nausea is also taking a toll on her. One evening at the Hard Deck with the whole squad a woman is approaching Jake... Unfortunately it's his ex girlfriend. She immediately flirts with him and making the reader really uncomfortable. Jake tries to get rid of his bitchy ex by showing off reader and introducing her to his ex. She's already sporting a small bump, which his ex notices. Later reader goes to the bathroom, not feeling so hot, but Jake's ex follows her and corners her at the bathroom insulting reader for being a slut, being pregnant and stealing Jake, absolutely stressing the pregnant woman out. After her harassment she leaves the bathroom leaving reader alone. The whole situation worsens her feeling sick and she collapses in one of the stalls.

Just need some huuuge whump and Jake and the Daggers being protective. Maybe you can use some of my ideas.

P.S.: it's so brave that you share your personal story here with us. You're a strong young woman. I belive in you!

hiii thank you for sending this in! absolutely love the idea! and thank you so much, i feel like eating disorders and the struggles that come with them aren't something thats spoken of enough and i really would like to bring awareness by sharing my own story :) so, if anyone has any questions about that, feel free to send them in ! I'm here to advocate and be a voice..if you think you have one or know someone who does and dont know how or where to get help, i got you, if you're wondering how to cope with symptoms, i got you!

in the meantime however, i give you my comfort loves, jake and babygirl! please feel free to send in any requests, comments or thoughts that you may have for this particular series ! and in lieu of halloween, this is officially halloween themed.

p.s. how are we doing today? are we hydrated? have we had a snack or two? this is your reminder to go do both if you haven't already! also does someone want to possibly make a boodboard for jake and babygirl?? full credit would go to you in every post if i use it !

warnings: elusions to sex and actual soft sex mentioned and described as well as cockwarming briefly mentioned, pregnancy, fainting, hospitals, grown adults bullying essentially

the babygirl series part three, part two here

BABYGIRL, the playlist

INSECURITIES. jake 'hangman' seresin

Your breathing was even as you layed on your back, one of your legs caught between his. The NAVY tshirt you were wearing (his navy tshirt) rode up to rest just beneath your glorious breasts with your arms raised up, one tucked under the pillow next to your head, the other laid across his chest, your tummy on full display. You had been with him for just over a month now, having extended your two week vacation indefinitely. He knew you two would have to fly home sometime soon, to pack up the things in your apartment and eventually make your way over to your families ranch's to let them know what was going on, but he didn't want to think about that, not now when had what felt like all the time in the world to admire you.

Your stomach rose and fell with every breath and almost instinctively he finds his hand resting there, thumb rubbing gently back and forth over the small but slowly growing more prominent baby bump you were beginning to sport. You had been shy about him doing that, and he knew that it was because in the back of your mind, that little baby growing in you hadn't come from him, but if you asked him, that little girl in there was his, even without the Seresin blood. He hadn't ran away or called you names when you had told him, infact, it had only drawn him to you more. You were his, and so was the little miracle you were growing and he wasn't afraid to admit it either. Hell, he had gone that night to the Hard Deck, a dopey grin on his face as he walked in with your hand in his and had announced it to the entire bar, happily telling his friends and Penny about the bun in your proverbial oven. He couldn't help but smile at the memory.

You shift after another moment, a small groan coming from your throat as you turn towards him, head pressed against his chest now. He presses a content kiss to the top of your messy hair adjusting you so that his arm was under you now, holding you against him. The bedroom was still dark but sunlight was slowly starting to seep through the small slit in the curtains, lighting up a small patch of the floor and the bed. He wondered if he should get up and open the window for you, maybe brew a pot of the decaf coffee he'd immediately switched you to when he found out about the baby.

He's about to decide against the thoughts, not wanting to wake you, not when you were sleeping so soundly after having a rough week of being sick and uncomfortable, you beat him to it though, your soft whine reaching his ears. "Mornin' babygirl.." He says, southern accent more prominent in his gruff morning voice. A smile spreads across his lips, as easy as butter glides across toasts as you lift your head up slowly, sleepy eyes meeting his before planting a long and slow good morning kiss on him. "You were sleeping so good, i didn't want to wake you up.."

You hum, trying to gather your sleepy wits about you, even though it had only been a month, jake was usually the only thing you noticed in the mornings, his warmth and love completely enveloping you, the only thing your mind could register besides the nausea usually rolling in your tummy, so it took you a moment to fully wake up.

After a few minutes of snuggling into your boyfriend, his hand rubbing your belly almost soothingly, you decide that you don't feel queasy enough to run to the bathroom right away (a godsend, really) and you shift yourself so that you're sitting atop of him, legs on either side of his hips, comforter slouched around your legs.

He looks up at you with an amused smile, large hands gliding up your thighs to land on your hips, just underneath of the baggy tshirt you'd stolen from him. "Somethin' i can help you with?" He asks, sleepy southern drawl sending shockwaves through your body as the hands on your hips grind you down against him, you were still bare from the night before, the two of you having stayed up late together just making love to each other.

You were insatiable when it came to him, maybe it was years of pent up sexual tension, maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just that you guys were so perfect for each other that you literally could not get enough of one another, whatever it was though, neither of you was complaining. You had never been more satisfied from just one single touch before, had never been left craving more of the person you were with until you had been with Jake.

"Have time for a proper good morning, fly boy?" You ask teasingly, already lifting the hem of your shirt to toss it onto the floor, which was where most of your clothes had been finding their home these days when it came to the bedroom.

"Keep it on for me, babygirl, want you to wear it while i watch you ride me," You hadn't even noticed that one of his hands had already been between your bodies, but he was sliding his cock out of his boxers and gliding you down onto it as he spoke, a sigh of pleasure already leaving your lips before you're even sunk down fully onto him. "Feel so good babygirl," He groans, already pussy drunk off of you.

His fingers grip tighter onto your hips as you ride him lazily, hips moving back and forth in a languid but pleasurable pace, his hips bucking up into yours softly. "Jake," You whine, hands planted on his hard chest, fingers curled into the coarse hairs that scattered there, he grunts in response as he thrusts up into you, his massive hands pulling you down to meet his cock with each one. "so full baby, feels so good jakey.." Your words only fueled his ego, his eyebrows furrowing as he pumps up into you, you were both still overly sensitive from the night before and he knew that he wasn't going to last long, and neither were you judging by the way your nails dug into the skin of his chest.

Jake furrows his brows deeper, watching your face contort with pleasure as he continues to slowly fuck up into your overly sensitive body, his own toes curling into the mattress as he tries to stave off his own orgasm, a feat proving much harder than he had originally thought with the noises that escaped you and the way your pussy felt clamping around him right then.. "..so pretty, babygirl, always so fucking pretty for me.." He grunts out, feeling the way you clench down on him, hearing the whine come from your throat as you cum, your thighs shaking on either side of him. "..that's it baby, thats it.." He says, not too far behind you. He cums as your body sags against his, his hands on your ass the only thing holding you steady as you bury your head in his neck, leaving small kisses along the top of his collar bone.

"..Do you have to go to work, baby?" You ask, lifting your head up to look at him, the pout that he had never been able to say no to adorning your lips.

You can't help but smirk a little as your boyfriend throws his head back with a groan, one of his hands snaking its way up your back. "Babygirl, i would give anything to stay home with you attached to me like this all day long," his voice is thick, that accent ever so present as he tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear. "but i gotta go to work, we're running flight trainings today.." Though they were a permanent mission squad within the TOP GUN training academy, they weren't always training for missions and today was one of those days where they got to run flights with the newer admissions who all thought they were the shit. Otherwise known as, Jake Seresin Gets To Show Off day.

You groan and drop your head to his chest, listening to him chuckle at you before he kisses the top of your head. "Fine, shower with me?" You lift your head up, a playful waggle to your eyebrows that he just can't say no to.

"I think that can be arranged." He says with a smile, his arms wrapping around your ass to hold you as he swiftly stands up with you, making you squeal in surprise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, clinging to him in fear of falling. Your ass meets the cold counter of the bathroom sink as he sets you down on it, peppering your face with kisses as he flips the light switch, making you giggle and smile that beautiful smile he loved so much. "Don't move."

"Yes Sir!" You chuckle, watching as he opens the shower door and steps in, turning it on. "Make sure its hot baby!" You instruct, practically feeling his eyes roll into the back of his head despite doing as you said.

"I will never understand you and the volcanic level of hot water you bathe in, how do you even have skin left?" He asks, voice serious as he walks over to you, stepping between your legs as he reaches behind you to turn the faucet on with one hand while the other reaches above your head, grabbing the bottle he'd seen you use every morning since you'd been with him.

"It's relaxing!" You argue, voice raising an octave as you try not to laugh at him when he suddenly splashes your face with cold water. "Excuse me for not liking to take an ice plunge every time i step into the shower," You cackle, causing him to start laughing as he brings his hands to your cheeks, gently rubbing them with your favorite facial cleanser. You hadn't even noticed him put it on his fingers, but it felt like he was massaging your face and it felt damn good. "You spoil me, you know?" You hum, relaxing into his touch, eyes closing. He could have lulled you back to sleep like that if he wanted to.

Jake grunts in disagreement. "I don't spoil you nearly enough, babygirl." He states, completely believing it. He wouldn't tell you but he was already planning how to ask you to marry him, he didn't need to wait a year, or even until the baby was born, he knew you were the one for him and he just couldn't wait to spoil you even more once you were his wife, and spoil the hell out of the little hellions you guys would have together.

After a minute he grabs a soft wash cloth from the drawer by the sink and wets it only a little, gently wiping the cleanser off of your face for you. The action of the thing was just so freaking sweet, and so fucking Jake that you didn't have the heart to tell him that you weren't supposed to wipe away the cleanser like that. It doesn't take long before the shower has steamed up the whole bathroom and he's helping you off of the counter before leading you into the shower, letting you step under the water first after he helps you slip his navy tshirt over your head.

You hum as the water hits you, your body relaxing as you feel his thumbs kneading the skin at the base of your neck, the spot where you tend to hold all of your tension. You lean back into him and just let the water wash over you, enjoying the closeness with him.

The pleasantness of the morning only lasts for a couple of hours, not too long after Jake leaves for work (with a kiss to your cheek and a smack to your ass) the intense feeling of nausea and a pounding headache that had been plaguing you with it for the past two weeks came crawling back, you thought you had been rid of it finally when you woke up feeling perfect this morning, but of course it was too good to be true. You're hunched over the toilet for hours, the breakfast Jake had been kind enough to make you crawling its way out of your stomach.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" You ask your stomach after a nasty bout of vomiting, and as if in answer, your stomach lurches unpleasantly, though you manage not to spew everywhere this time.

You seem to be fine for the rest of the day, though your head pounds and you sit in darkness until about the time that Jake gets off work, knowing he was going to be home and excited to head straight to the hard deck with the crew for Penny's Halloween party. You had been excited too, had even planned out your costume with him but god you hadn't felt this bad before, this was the most intense day of morning sickness that you'd had the entire time you'd been pregnant. You were tempted to call it off, send him on his own, but you knew he wouldn't go. He would stay by your side and take care of you, and you didn't want that, not when he had been so excited to show you off tonight.

Despite your better judgement you start getting yourself ready around the time you know he's getting ready to leave base, you know your timing is right because you get a 'be home soon babygirl' text from him a few minutes into your endeavor. You smile at your phone for a second, wondering how you got so damn lucky to be able to be in love with your best fucking friend in the whole world..

You're in the middle of painting your small but ever present swollen baby belly with safe, brown paint, standing in the full body mirror as you do it. You're trying to make it look as much like a bun as possible, which isn't as easy as it seems when you can't physically detach your stomach and lay it flat on a table to look at and paint like you could literally anything else. You hear the front door open, and his voice carry's through it's usual greeting. "In the bedroom!" You holler back. You hear something thump onto the floor (his duffle, probably filled with his sweaty khaki uniform and underclothes) and his boots thud down the hallway.

"Hey, Babyg-" You turn to face him as soon as you peek him and his dark green flight suit in the doorway, showing off the bun you were working so hard on. Thankfully, focusing so hard on something else had pushed your nausea and headache to the back of your mind, the least of your worries as you locked eyes with your grinning boyfriend. "That looks so good Babygirl! Look at you and our little girl all dressed up for Halloween.." He steps into the room, his smile lighting his face as he brings his lips to yours, before he can even kiss you though your nose scrunches up at the smell of him, sweaty and smelling like airplane fuel and oil.

You know it's coming before your stomach even lurches and you shove him away from you so hard he lands on the bed, a shocked noise escaping him as you rush into the bathroom, sliding in front of the toilet just in the nick of time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hear Jake rush into the bathroom behind you, crouching down with you to rub your back. You manage to wave him away as you heave and he seems to get the hint, taking a step back.

"You smell." You groan when you're sure you've finished, trying to find the strength to stand up and rinse your mouth out. Jake makes an offended noise in the back of his throat, but you shoot him a glare that tells him you're serious and it seems to shut him up.

"Right," He says, clapping his hands together as you finally stand up. "i'll shower, you finish getting ready if you feel like you're able to go..if not, we'll stay home and watch 90 day Fiancé or something.." He wouldn't admit it to you, but your reality show addiction had become one of his new favorite hobbies and he would be more than happy to spend the night in bed with you binging. Who needed a Halloween party anyway? "How many times have you done that today?"

"I'll be fine to go, that's the first time that's happened all day." You lie, sidling up next to him to rinse out your mouth, trying desperately not to breathe through your nose so you don't repeat the emptying of your already empty stomach for the tenth time today. You meet his eyes in the mirror, he's looking at you like he doesn't believe you. "Really baby," You smile, turning around to face him. You look up at the handsome man before you, trying your hardest not to breathe in his scent. "I'll be okay, just take a shower and wash all the airplane gunk off of you before it happens again."

He gives you a long look, green eyes searching your face for any sign that he shouldn't let you go tonight and just make you stay home instead, he really couldn't have cared either way about the damn halloween party, now that he had you, you were the only thing that he ever cared to spend his time with. "Okay," He concedes, ruffling your hair with his ginormous hand. You roll your eyes at the action, but your body relaxes despite feeling horrible about the lie. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

You pushed through the next hour or so, finishing your costume while Jake showered and got himself ready, eagerly talking about how the two of you were going to kick Phoenix and Bob's asses in the costume contest that Penny was hosting tonight, and how he was so excited to show you and the belly off and as you checked yourself out in the mirror, you were once again reminded of just how lucky you were to have Jake to love you and the little miracle growing inside of you.

You pushed through Jake cooking himself a quick snack, you even made it through the drive to the bar like a champ, driving his big ass truck all the way there while he lay in the back seat because he refused to take his costume off until after the contest.

You had been at the bar for a couple of hours, mingling with Bob and Phoenix for the most part, who looked adorable in their Buzz and Woody costumes, when you took a turn for the worse. You and the rest of the squad had gotten to the bar quite early to help Penny finish setting up and as it started filling up with other people from base and some of the new TOP GUN students you and Jake had somehow gotten separated and after a while of talking with Phoenix about doing a shopping trip and lunch date on her next day off you started to look around for him.

Jake was at the pool table, high fiving Bradley as he sunk a ball into one of the pockets, very obviously wining the game of pool he had been roped into with the new recruits. You cant help the smile that lights your face when he catches your eye, sending you a signature Jake Seresin smirk and a wink of his eye. You giggle to yourself, your heart feeling full of nothing but love and happiness when it came to him.

"God, you guys are so in love its honestly sickening.." Natasha mutters, rolling her eyes with a playful smile on her face as she sips her whiskey on the rocks. You cackle in laughter, pushing her shoulder gently as you leave her side and make your way over to Jake, you'd had enough of being away from his side for one night.

A couple of people move in front of you as you're walking, and you have to stop and say hello to Maverick, who had arrived stylishly late to the party. "You're glowing!" He had said, giving you a kiss on your cheek. He was honestly in complete awe of you and the affect that you had on Hangman, he had done a complete 360 since you'd gotten together and he couldn't thank you enough for it because he wasn't sure how to handle it some days.

You chat with him for a few moments before making your way to Jake, except when he comes back into your view this time there's someone else with him. A tall bottle blonde in a risqué nurses costume that was honestly probably lingerie, she had fishnet stockings on and mile high platform stripper heels.

She was the kind of girl that had always caught his attention before you.

She was the kind of girl you had always been underlyingly jealous of.

And that jealously came rearing its ugly head. Fists clenched to your sides you walked over to your boyfriend with a purpose, not even catching their conversation before you wrapped your arms around his always so toned and tight bicep that was sticking out of the arm hole of the costume he had spent time making himself.

"Hey Babygirl," He says immediately, turning his head to plant a big fat kiss on your lips, you could practically feel his body relaxing at your touch and that seemed to cause you jealousy to ease, knowing that he was being held hostage in the conversation. "Jessa, this is my Babygirl.." The woman in front of you looked at you with narrowed eyes and then looked down at your costumes, her eyes roaming from your painted pregnant belly to his oven costume and and then back again, it seemed like it took a moment for all of the wheels to turn but they finally clicked into place.

"We dated for a while, not that long ago..just wanted to come over and say hello." She says. "I had heard you were settled down but i didn't think it could possibly be true.." Her eyes never leave his as she speaks, batting her eyelashes at him as if trying to entice him.

Jake raises his beer bottle to his lips, glancing down to you as if he wasn't quite sure what to say. "Well, I hate to break it to you but..its true.." You grind out, your queasy stomach returning as you catch a whiff of her strong perfume. "I'll be right back baby.."

You barely make it to the ladies room all the way across the bar before it spews out of you. You're hunched over the toilet for a good few minutes heaving and queasing and so focused on yourself that you don't hear bathroom door squeak open again, or the stripper heels smacking against the tiled floor that Penny thankfully kept in pristine cleanliness.

You don't notice the other presence in the bathroom until you've stood up and turned around, headed to wash your hands and try to wash the small bit of vomit off of your black shirt. You stop in your tracks immediately when you spot her, arms crossed over her outrageously exposed breasts as she stands with her hip popped, as if she were looking for a fight.

"I always knew he liked easier girls, but i never thought he liked actual whores." She states, eyeing your pregnant belly with clear disdain. "I'm not stupid, i can do basic math. He stopped calling me almost two months ago, way too soon for you to be thus far pregnant with his baby."

"..excuse me?" You utter, mouth watery again as you fought of what you hoped was just nerves and not another round of throwing up..you didn't think you could go 12 rounds today and still make it through the party.

The woman cackles damn near evilly. "The way Jake always spoke about his babygirl I thought she was this pure angel. Turns out she's a fucking whore." She shakes her head, eyeing once more. "You're not his type either, he really must fucking pity you if he's fucking you like this, the poor thing.."

You can't think of anything to say, you could barely hold your head up with how suddenly dizzy you were. As she turns to leave the bathroom, the door swinging open, the vomit spews out of you like lava spewed out of Pompeii and as you sink to the floor, trying to keep your own head up, too dizzy to see straight or use your voice or even think, you couldn't help but to remember the words that she had said..that he must have pittied you..that wasn't true..right?

Natasha noticed Jessa come out of the bathroom that she had seen you go into earlier, and maybe it was just because she was slightly paranoid but she felt like she needed to poke her head in and check on you, especially after she sauntered right back up to Jake and ran her hand down his bicep after you had very clearly made it known that she needed to back off.

"Keep an eye on Jessa," She says to Bob, catching her Wizzo's attention as she slipped off of her bar stool. "I'm gonna go check on Babygirl.." Everyone had taken to calling you by Jake's nickname for you, it was practically your God given name by this point.

"On it." Bob says, taking his Shirley Temple with him as he strides from the bar top to the pool table.

Natasha pushes people out of her way, the wings of her Buzz costume doing all of the work for her as she makes her way to the restrooms, pushing the door opening and entering sideways. She hears your moan before she sees you slumped in a pool of your own throw up, your skin paler than the flourescent lighting in the small bathroom and a small sheen of sweat on your forehead. "Holy sit.." She says, crumbling down next to you, taking your head in her hands. "Babygirl? You awake?" A slight moan is the only response. "Fuck...fuck.."

She doesn't leave your side, but she thanks God for having long legs because she's able to catch the door stopper just right with her foot and open it far enough for her voice to carry. "JAKE! BOB! SOMEBODY HELP!" You moan again, your head thumping to her chest. Her voice must be loud enough because there's a drawn out silence before a scattering of feet pounding against the hardwood flooring of the Hard Deck. "Call 911!"

Jake's heart drops into his stomach as soon as he sees you, his eyes widening. "What happened?" He doesn't bother to care about the emotional crack in his voice as he drops to his knees, Bob and Rooster right behind him in the door way. "Nat, what the fuck happened?"

"I don't know, she was like this when I came in - Jessa had just come out!" She says panicking because she had never once seen Jacob Seresin look so scared and vulnerable before. "She keeps moaning and she's sweaty..Jake what if it's the baby?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, he couldn't bare to think of it, he couldn't bare to think of how sad and broken you would be..he couldn't even begin to think of how to pick up those broken pieces if that were the case, so he didn't think about it. He focused on Bob's voice behind him, on the phone with the 911 operator.

"...17 weeks pregnant, semi conscious.." Bob spoke to the person on the other end, Jake had told them all this morning how far along you were, forcefully showing everyone the pregnancy tracking app on his phone screen. Bob had remembered because of how excited Jake had been.

Jake looked at you, your head in Natasha's lap and then glanced back at Bradley who's eyes were wide with fear, an exact mimic of his own facial expression he was sure. He remembered suddenly that Natasha had said that someone had been in here before she found you..Jessa.

He was on his feet before he had even finished having the thought, shoving past Bradley who had the wherewithal to dutifully follow him as he stalked down the hallway and into the main area of the bar.

"Jessa!" He thundered, the bar going silent. She wasn't hard to find, she was one of the few girls dressed like a hooker. "What the fuck did you do? Huh?" He asks, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Jake, back off man-" Bradley's hand is on his shoulder pulling him back. Jessa scoffs at both of them and rolls her eyes turning around.

"Not my fault the skanky trash can't handle the thing growing inside of her." She says to her group of friends, causing them to start cackling.

She was lucky that Nat hadn't heard her, and that he didn't go crawling back to the bathroom to send her out here to do what he knew she would have because just then flashing lights shined through the front windows of the bar. Paramedics had arrived.

"Oh now that's just fucking dramatic!" She groans to her friends as Jake walks away, causing him to turn back around to start yelling at her once more. Bradley spins him back towards the door though and he runs outside to rush them in.

When you come to you're scared out of your mind, the last thing you remember were the words Jessa had said echoing in your mouth. Your heart starts to race and you hear a monitor start to go off, there were things attached to your stomach and your arms and all of a sudden his hands were on your shoulder, weary eyes looking into yours.

"..jake? what happened?" You ask, your heart already starting to calm down and you realize that the monitor that was going off was attached to you.

"You were dehydrated, you passed out.." Jake says, pressing a kiss to your temple as one hand goes to rest on your stomach, right next to the fetal monitors. "Your OB says that it's from throwing up so much, says that you weren't getting in as much as you were getting out.." You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the pillow, kicking yourself for letting it get that bad. "Why didn't you tell me it was that bad babygirl? You scared me shitless..you scared all of us..Nat found you laying in your own vomit..she came with me, wouldn't even go home to change..she's off hounding your doctor for more information.."

You process his words, hating yourself for putting your friend in that situation, for ruining the halloween party. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. "Is the baby okay?" Your lip quivers and tears begin to stream down your face. "Jake im so sorry baby, I thought I could tough it out, I didn't want you to worry.."

Jake sighs, kissing your forehead as he wipes the tears from your eyes, letting you know that the baby was okay, and that you would be okay too. That he was going to take care of you always, and his words washed over you completely, emptying your head of whatever doubt Jessa had temporarily placed in it.

taglist:

@bellaireland1981 @sky0401 @memoriesat30 @bat-luna-cat @memeorydotcom @mamachasesmayhem @kmc1989 @justherebecausesafarisucks @mrowphine @djs8891

#jake seresin fluff #top gun maverick #hangman #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun phoenix

236 notes · View notes

sailor-aviator · 6 months

Text

The Apple of My Eye

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend can't believe you've never gone apple picking...

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Excited Bob, Flirty Bob, Bob.

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: I know this one is a little on the shorter side too, but why force more when it's already so cheesy? Anyway, this is part of my Halloween/Fall one-shot collection! My inbox and requests are always open, so feel free to shoot me a message! As always, comments, reblogs, and likes are greatly appreciated! If you like my writing, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Masterlist || Bob One-Shot Masterlist || Robert "Bob" Floyd Tag List

“Are you ready?” Bob asked excitedly from the driver seat. You looked over at him with a small smile, heart warming at the sight of your overly enthusiastic boyfriend. Bob didn’t often show his excitement like this, and you were one of the few people who ever got to see him in this state.

No, you’re boyfriend was a weird mix of shy and confidant, something that worked surprisingly well for him. He was confidant in his abilities, but horribly shy when it came to romance. You had been shocked when the young pilot had approached you one day during a summer day off with your mutual friends. You had always found him attractive, and everyone knew this fact, especially your long-time best friend Natasha. She had been the reason you had been enveloped into the dagger squad to begin with. You weren’t a pilot, but that didn’t seem to matter the more you spent time with the rowdy crew.

Bob had caught your eye almost immediately with the way he would duck his head and blush everytime you so much as looked his way. It was endearing, really. But what really had you falling head over heels for the man was the surprising amount of self-assuredness he had when doing things. Confidence was sexy, after all. And after months of tip-toeing around each other, the squad had worked together to come up with the perfect plan at getting Bob to ask you out. That summer day was one of the best of your entire life.

Now, you smiled softly at your boyfriend of over a year as he buzzed with excitment at the idea of your current date. He had stared at you in disbelief when you told him that you had never been apple picking, and he had decided that that was a misfortune that had to be corrected right away.

“I’m ready, Robby,” you hummed, gathering the basket at your feet. Bob got out of the car and rounded to your side, opening the door so you could get out. He was nothing, if not a gentleman. He offered you his hand, and you took it gratefully, linking your arm with his as he pushed the door closed behind you.

“You’re gonna have so much fun, Bug. I can’t believe you’ve never gone apple picking before!” He grinned. You giggled at how excited he was, moving your hand down to intertwine your fingers with his. He squeezed your hand lightly, giving you a shy smile. You hoped a day never came where that smile didn’t send a flurry of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

Minutes later, the two of you were walking through rows of trees, families, friend, and couples milling about around you.

“So,” you drawled, glancing up at him. “How does this work?”

Bob’s eyes lit up, excitedly telling you about everything there was to know, and you watched him with a dreamy expression.

“So, you don’t wanna pick the apples that are already on the ground because those are for the deer and bugs,” he explained, gesturing to the many apples that littered the ground. “And then you wanna pick the apples from the outer branches because they ripen first. Oh! And don’t eat straight from the tree.”

“Why not?” You asked him.

“Because you always wanna wash your fruit first, baby. Who knows what kind of pesticides they use around here,” he replied, wrinkling his nose.

“Makes sense,” you nodded, walking up to one of the trees. “What about these?”

Bob stepped up beside you, inspecting the yellow and red apples. “You planning on doing much baking?”

“Isn’t that why we’re here picking them?” You giggled, earning a soft smile back. “Thought you would want some apple pie.”

“You gonna bake for me, sugar?” He smirked, leaning in. You hummed, brushing your nose against his.

“Would do anything for you, Robby,” you grinned, biting at your bottom lip. Bob blushed, ducking his head down in embarrassment. You let out another giggle, reaching up to pick one of the low hanging apples. Bob glanced up, reaching his hand out to stop you.

“Hold on, now,” he smiled. “There’s a trick to it. You don’t want to pull on the apple, that means it isn’t ready. You wanna find one that you can just twist-”

He gently twisted his hand around the apple, and you heard a quiet snap as the fruit broke free from the branch, his smile just as wide as yours as you looked at one another.

“And pull,” he finished, pulling the apple free and placing it gently into the basket. “You don’t wanna just toss them in either. That can bruise’em and then they’ll all go bad.”

“Look at you, Mr. Smarty-pants!” You teased, causing another blush to crawl up his cheeks. You placed a kiss to his cheek before stepping back to assess the tree in front of you. “Now, let’s get to work! There are apples to be picked and pies with your name on them waiting to be baked!”

The two of you began working your way around the lower branches, plucking and comparing apples as you quickly filled your basket. Bob took one look at you holding the heavy object, and shook his head with a frown. Worldlessly, he took the basket from your hands, replacing it with his other hand. You leaned into him with a smile, gazing up at him adoringly.

“Always the gentleman,” you gushed, and Bob looked down at you with a quirked eyebrow, eyes containing a hint of mischief.

“Always?” He hummed, leaning in to whisper in your ear with a smirk. “What about when I do that one thing in the bedroom-”

“Robert Floyd!” You shrieked past a giggle, swatting his shoulder as he chuckled. “You can’t just go around saying things like that! There are children present!”

“You’ve never complained about the things I’ve said before,” he smirked, and now it was your turn to duck your head out of shyness. Bob chuckled, squeezing your hand gently as he pulled you towards the barn where the rest of the crowd was weaving in and out.

“C’mon, sugar,” he laughed. “Let’s go get some cider, yeah?”

You allowed yourself to be led to the barn, smile ever-present on your face as it usually was in the presence of the man next to you.

Yes, Bob could be shy at times, but he was a man who knew what he wanted. And what you didn’t know was that he was confidant in the fact that you were it for him, but he would wait. His mama always told him that patience was a virtue and that good things come to those who wait. He would wait forever if it meant he could keep you by his side.

Tag List: @haley-hotchner @bobgasm @nicestgirlonline @fanficfandomlove @hopip99 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @theamuz @rosedurin @kmc1989 @emandems10 @linkpk88 @deliriousfangirl61 @nouis-bum

#robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd #robert floyd x you #robert floyd fic #robert floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #one shot

342 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 2 years

Text

First Halloween (Fanboy x Reader)

“Alright little man,” Mickey said to the wriggling little three month old laying on your bed. “You are gonna look so cute in your Halloween costume.”

Antonio wriggled and gurgled as Mickey zipped him into his Halloween costume, his chubby little arms flailing and poor Mickey struggling to get him in. “Sheesh, eres impaciente, hombrecito.”

The baby laughed a little as if he enjoyed annoying his father, but in no time at all, Antonio was in his Halloween costume. Mickey’s huge grin could hardly be contained, even as he whipped out his cell phone and snapped a whole mess of pictures. “Oh, your great grandmother is gonna love this,” he chortled excitedly.

“Mickey you good?”

“Yeah (y/n), I’m still in the bedroom!”

“You wanna hurry it up?!” you called. “I might need some help with the hair!”

“Gimme one sec!”

Mickey lifted Antonio from the bed and moved him back into his own room, carefully placing him in his crib before heading back in to help you. “Your need help with the hair?” he asked you.

“I dunno,” you sighed in frustration. “Honestly, the people that did Carrie Fisher’s hair....”

“Babes, I’ve got this,” Mickey chuckled. “You forget, I grew up in a big family and have an older sister who does hair for a living.”

“Ok,” you said. “You win.”

Mickey took your hair into his nimble fingers, working away effortlessly until at last it was done, your hair looking like a pair of huge cinnamon rolls stuck to the side of your head.

“Alright Princess Leia,” Mickey teased. “Han Solo will be right back.”

“Oh shit!” you blurted out. “I just realized, I need to feed Antonio.”

“Alright, you go do that, I’m gonna go get changed.”

You immediately went to the nursery and picked Antonio up, sitting right in the rocker to feed him as best you could. Alot of people had told you from the get-go that feeding would be painful and at times it was, but as soon as you got used to it, it hardly hurt at all.

As soon as Antonio had been fed, burped and settled, Mickey popped right back in wearing his own Halloween costume. “Isn’t he cute?” he asked with a huge grin.

““Oh my God,” you half laughed. “As if a Baby Yoda didn’t give me enough feels already, Mickey.”

“Hey it was either this, or we go as Ghostbusters and he’s Baby Slimer,” Mickey told you.

“So are we gonna get going, or are we just gonna stay here and nerd out?”

“Right, right,” Mickey stammered.

The two of you headed out to the truck and loaded up, putting Antonio into his carseat before heading to the Floyd ranch. Tonight was always the best time of year for the ranch, seeing as the squad got to set up and manage the haunted hayride every year.

It wasn’t a long ride at all, only a half hour at most before you two had pulled up to the ranch, people already having arrived just before sundown in an array of costumes, young and old, kids and teenagers as well as seasoned old salts. The leaves on the trees had turned burning shades of red, orange, brown and yellow while the heavy smells of hay, apples and fresh picked pumpkins was everywhere.

“Holy shit!” Rooster exclaimed. “Looks like you guys went all out with the Star Wars thing.”

“Yeah and you look like you just stepped out of a Bram Stoker novel,” Mickey chuckled.

“Hey, Rusty wanted to be Mina so I had no choice but to be Jonathan,” Rooster said in his defense. “Look, I’ve even got a stake in the belt-loops of my pants.”

Bob emerged onto the porch a moment later, his Indiana Jones look complete with a real bullwhip at his side. “Is that my favorite nephew?!” he exclaimed when he saw Antonio.

“You wanna take him?” you laughed.

Bob gladly took Antonio, still in his Baby Yoda costume, littering the baby’s cheeks with kisses and telling him how cute he was. “God I’m nervous,” Bob remarked. “The wife’s due in a few months.”

“You’ll do fine,” Fanboy assured him. “By the way, what time’s the haunted hayride?”

“Seven thirty is what Dad told me,” Bob answered as Antonio sucked on the end of his pinky. “He’s all excited because he gets to chase people with a giant knife.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” you asked him.

“Well, he was originally gonna make a homemade flamethrower but Mom talked him out of it pretty quick.”

You guys laughed, trying to picture the whole thing going down. Regardless, you all intended to make it the best Halloween to remember.

#top gun maverick #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy x reader #robert bob floyd #bradley rooster bradshaw #dagger squad #dagger squad halloween #headcannons to come

144 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

No Nut November I Top Gun Dagger Squad edition

Summary: When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good.

Warnings: Humor, adult banter, smut, ridiculousness

Length: 1700 words

Pairing: a mention of Rooster x girlfriend and Payback x hookup

Check my masterlist for more!

When left to their own devices for too long, the Dagger Squad aviators usually got up to no good. As they finished a group run and headed into the gym for some weight training, one such conversation began to take form.

"Halloween was fun last night," Phoenix said with a yawn. "The Hard Deck was wild though."

"Yeah," Fanboy agreed, shaking his head as he got a bench press set up. "Crazy! But November is a way more chill month."

Hangman snickered. "Chill? You think No Nut November is chill?"

Coyote shook his head as he did some squats. "It's the roughest month of the year!"

A bubble of laughter escaped Bob. "What's No Nut November? Like no peanuts?

"More like no penis," drawled Hangman. "Or vagina," he added when he saw the look Phoenix was giving him. "It's a competition. You try to stay ejaculation free for the entire month. Who's game?"

"Count me out," Rooster promptly said. "My girlfriend will absolutely not go for this."

"Come on, Rooster," Payback said. "You don't even have to tell her you're participating."

Rooster stared at him in confusion. "I think she might notice something's up if I go from being balls deep inside her at least once a day to giving her nothing!"

"There are workarounds, Rooster. Don't you ever use your mouth for anything other than whining?" Phoenix asked, earning laughs from the others.

"Hmmm," Rooster rolled his eyes at her and contemplated how he could get away with participating.

"Well, if it's a competition, what does the winner get?" Bob asked.

"The satisfaction of knowing they aren't weak minded," Hangman informed him. "And I'll hang up a gold star outside the locker rooms that says 'Ejaculation Champ' with their name on it. Now, who's in?"

"Yeah," Payback said with a nod as he picked up a barbell.

"I'll do it," Fanboy added.

"Me too," agreed Coyote.

"Sure, sounds intriguing," Bob said with a nod.

"I...will hesitantly say yes. I will probably regret this," Rooster said with a sigh.

The guys all turned and looked at Phoenix who was stretching before she started weight training. "Oh, I'm already out. I lost."

Rooster's brow scrunched up. "What do you mean you're already out? It's November 1st at 9:30 in the morning."

Phoenix just smirked at the boys. "I had a guest over last night," she said coyly.

"Legendary," Fanboy muttered. "You've got more game than all of the rest of us combined."

"Are you kidding me?" asked Hangman. "Less than ten hours into the month and you're already out? I'm actually kind of impressed."

Phoenix just shrugged. "The gold star would have been nice, but it was worth it."

Hangman sighed and turned back to the guys. "We've all got to be one hundred percent truthful. If you nut, you're out. And you need to admit to it."

The guys all agreed. And thus the month of November became a thing of legend.

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

On November 6th, Coyote woke up with morning wood. He got all comfy in bed and took care of himself. "No better way to start your day," he muttered as he cleaned himself up. "Oh, shit!"

He had fucking forgotten about the bet!

When he got to base and saw the guys, he just shook his head.

"You nutted!" accused Fanboy immediately.

"Yeah," Coyote admitted. "I just completely forgot about the bet, and I....jerked off this morning." He winced, and the guys looked at him with disdain.

"Well you can kiss that gold star goodbye," Hangman told him. "Everyone else hanging in there?"

"Yeah," they all said in unison.

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

On November 10th, Fanboy hit up his favorite movie theater for throwback night. They were showing Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, one of his all-time favorites.

He settled in with his bucket of popcorn, ready to enjoy the film. But then disaster struck. Maybe it was because he'd already gone too long without masturbating, or maybe it was because she was just so hot, but as soon as he saw Princess Leia in her golden, slave bikini, he was rock hard.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, still hard by the time the movie ended. He had to hold the popcorn bucket in front of his shorts on the way to his car. "Okay, pull it together, man." But by the time he got back to his apartment, he was panting and in pain.

"I can't make it!" he said, carefully taking his shorts off and touching himself. The relief was immediate, but the disappointment he felt would surely linger.

The next day on the tarmac, he told the others, "It was the damn bikini! It had me in its sights, and I didn't stand a chance! I could have made it through The Empire Strikes Back, no problem! I should have known better!"

Hangman, Rooster, Bob and Payback all sized each other up. Shit was getting real.

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

By November 15th, Rooster estimated he'd gone down on his girlfriend about a hundred times so far this month. This wouldn't have been a problem for him at all, except now his jaw was starting to ache, and she was desperately trying to reciprocate.

"You're so good, baby," she moaned as she came on his face.

Rooster gritted his teeth and dug his nails into his palms. "Anything for you, honey," he grunted. God, he was painfully hard, and now she was crawling across the bed toward him.

"You want me to go down on you now?" she asked, reaching for his shorts.

"No! Tonight is all about you!" he practically yelled at her.

She pouted a bit. "You've been saying that for weeks, Rooster. And now you're acting really weird. I want to make you feel good too."

"No! Ummm, let me finger you instead!" he shouted. "Lay down, honey. I got you."

But two nights later, he was outmaneuvered by her. As soon as she came from the pleasure his fingers and mouth provided, Rooster was rubbing his throbbing jaw and trying to think about something un-sexy. But she lunged for his boxers, pulled them down and ran her tongue along his dick.

"Honey, no!" he groaned, but it felt too good. Two more strokes of her tongue, and Rooster was panting and spurting his cum all over her face.

She looked up at him in shock. "That was fast."

Rooster paced around the gym on base the next day. "I'm out, okay? I'm out." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "I swear I tried my best! Plus I think I have permanent damage to my jaw! It's aching from how many times I went down on her!"

Payback cocked his head. "But if you were avoiding intercourse, how are you out?"

Rooster looked slightly crazed now. "She licked me! She licked me three times and I came all over the fucking place! And now she's concerned that I should talk to my doctor about premature ejaculation! I was out there in the trenches, fighting for my life, and now she thinks I have a disorder!"

The guys all nodded in solemn understanding.

Phoenix cracked up. "You're all idiots, I swear."

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

Payback had been so careful. He really wanted that gold star. It was November 28th, and he was feeling optimistic about his chances of winning.

"I've got this," he announced, bragging while playing pool at the Hard Deck. "The gold star is mine, dickheads."

Bob and Hangman would cave. He just knew it.

Then the cutest girl he'd ever seen started hitting on him. "Can I buy you a drink?" she asked shyly, and he was putty in her hands.

An hour later they were kissing next to the jukebox. An hour after that, she was touching him under his shirt.

"Okay, I'm out guys! I had a good run! See you tomorrow!" he announced merrily as he left the bar with her.

"Saw that coming from a mile away," Hangman drawled, sinking the eight ball. He knew he would make it to December 1st, because he knew he was mentally stronger than the rest of them. He prided himself on it.

So Hangman went to bed that night with a satisfied smile on his face. He woke up the next morning with a mess in his sheets.

He didn't even want to show his face at work, and he considered calling out sick. He managed to make it almost all the way out onto the tarmac by his F/A-18 when Payback and the others cornered him.

"You're looking really suspicious, man," Payback accused. "You're out, aren't you?"

Hangman nodded hoping to quickly steer the topic elsewhere. "Yes, I'm out. Congratulations, Bob. You win the gold star, man."

Bob pumped his fist in the air, and the rest congratulated him on his nutless month.

But it was with untrusting eyes that Rooster turned back toward Hangman, who was trying to sneak up the ladder into his aircraft. "Hey, Hangman! How did you get eliminated?"

"It's not important," he mumbled in response.

"Come on, everyone else admitted to how they got out," Rooster replied. "Couldn't be worse than ejaculating after a tongue touched you for approximately two seconds."

"Couldn't be worse than getting hard to Star Wars," Fanboy chimed in with a self-deprecating smile.

Hangman cradled his head in his hand. "Ihadawetdream."

Phoenix howled and bent in half laughing, but the guys all stepped a little closer to hear him better. "Sorry, you what?" asked Coyote.

"I had a wet dream!" Hangman shouted. "Okay? Happy now?"

And now the guys were howling along with Phoenix.

"Yes, hilarious," Hangman drawled. "How did you manage to win, Bob?"

Bob smiled serenely at everyone. "Oh, I practice mindful meditation for stress relief. Plus, my wife has been in Europe for work all month, so it was quite easy."

Bob jumped back as the guys all shouted at him in bewilderment. "You're married?!"

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

This fic is ridiculous!

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@yaboid19

@mak-32

@miles-rooster

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@grxndedwt

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@babybloomers

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@thedroneranger

@changlingkhat

@callsign-echo

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@katiebby04

@andycanbeemotional

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@teddyluvs2sing

@cherrycola27

@ccbb2222

@bradshawsbitch

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@high-bi-andreadytocry

@xoxabs88xox

#top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman fic #rooster fic #top gun imagine #no nut november

1K notes · View notes

yeagrave · 6 months

Text

halloween doodles

124 notes · View notes

say-al0e · 1 year

Text

Enterprise

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, minors, DNI!

Summary: Bob likes to keep his personal life and work life separate. But returning to San Diego has been difficult so what better time to introduce you to his new friends than Halloween. It is a night for surprises, after all. | Ft. Anon Request for: “Keep your voice down. There’s still a party going on.”

Warnings: A little anxiety, a little insecurity, some teasing from the squad, public oral (fem receiving), Bob’s adorable and the squad is supportive. Anything else, just ask and I’ll tag.

Pairing: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x fem!Reader (wife!Reader)

Word Count: 7.7k Words (...yeah, I know)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

Despite popular belief - or unpopular as he was never very well-known - Robert Floyd wasn’t really that awkward. In fact, he wasn’t really that shy, either. He’d been called a litany of things throughout his life, in the Navy and otherwise, but very few of them were words he believed to be apt descriptors of who he really was as a person.

A high school guidance counselor once called him reserved, if a little timid, and those who knew him - well and truly knew him, saw beyond the glasses and hesitant smiles - would agree. He never loved the limelight, had never been one to seize the opportunity to settle into the center of attention, and always preferred to hang around the periphery. He always allowed his actions to speak for themselves and realized somewhere around high school that the role he played fit him well.

Somewhere along the way - around the time he enrolled in the Naval Academy and moved far away from the only life he’d ever really known - he gained a reputation for being quiet, shy, awkward, invisible. The reputation was one that never really bothered him and, over the years, he began to lean into it. He let his teammates, officers he met in passing, aviators who’d never even met him, believe what they wanted.

Any fight he threw at them would be met with laughter and rolled eyes, anyway, so why try?

What others thought about him never really bothered him - apart from that one girl in grade school, his first crush, whose observation that he was odd really did hurt his feelings. And, if he really thought about it, it was no secret as to how he garnered his reputation.

While those around him spoke freely about their personal lives - plans for the weekend, exciting family news, the things they left behind to join the Navy - Bob kept relatively quiet about his personal life. There was never any shame in where he came from or what he did on the weekends, there was no conscious decision to hide his life, he’d just never really been included in those conversations. His quiet demeanor often saw him forgotten, left just on the periphery, and when he was included, his answers were always only politely considered for a moment or made the punchlines to jokes.

When he was finally invited in, given real friends who truly wanted to hear his answers to those questions, quiet had become a reflex. The Dagger Squad learned a little, was given a handful of answers as to where he came from and why he joined the Navy, but Natasha became the only person who knew anything deeper than surface level.

Robert Floyd was an enigma to those around him and, for the most part, he never even realized others were curious. What he did on the weekends, why he was so keen to flee the Hard Deck after only half an hour, why he lived off-base when nearly everyone else lived in the barracks; those were things only Natasha knew and he hadn’t made much of an effort to change that.

The division of his life, professional and personal, served him well.

That division only really became a problem when it began to take its toll on the one person he hoped to never burden with his career.

As excited as he was to return to Top Gun, to return to San Diego, that return meant uprooting the life he’d spent three years building. There was always a possibility that he’d have to pack it all up and move along to the next base - something he’d come to accept, just as you had - but Lemoore had been home for a little too long.

Though Bob left only a handful of friends in Lemoore, you left the life you spent three years building - a life you’d already left one city to start. A job, a support system in the partners of other Navy officers, new friends, a favorite cafe and bookshop; all were three hours away now, just because you packed up the little house you both spent your weekends fixing up to follow him to San Diego.

Bob knew that allowing his lives to blend, just a little, was the only way to lift some of the weight he’d inadvertently placed on you. So, he started simply.

Natasha was the first - and only - member of the Dagger Squad he introduced you to formally, one-on-one. She was important to your husband, the person he trusted with his life and the person who trusted him with hers, and he knew just how much you’d like her.

There was no surprise that you took to her immediately, falling into an easy friendship that saw you and Natasha enjoying a bond Bob could only hope continued, but one friend outside of work was only the beginning. And when he caught wind of the Hard Deck’s annual Halloween party, Bob decided that your favorite holiday would be the perfect time to truly allow his worlds to collide.

The excitement he saw in the days leading up to the party was enough to quell any remaining anxiety he felt about introducing you. There was never any doubt that you would get along with the rest of the squad, never any shame in introducing you as the love of his life, but seeing the joy with which you prepared reminded him that these people were different - there would be no malice in the teasing they leveled him with, no real question as to how you met that wasn’t genuinely asked.

When the night itself finally arrived, Bob found himself wondering why he ever thought keeping you from the people who were starting to become something of a second family was a good idea.

Regardless of how he felt about introducing you, Bob knew that, if asked, there wasn’t a single soul who would’ve guessed he was seeing someone - aside from Natasha and Bradley, who he was beginning to suspect knew more than he let on. If they had, and if he’d disclosed your plan to attend the party in a couple’s costume, several assumptions would’ve been made.

Any number of guesses would’ve been made - and someone likely would’ve gotten it right - but if he’d disclosed your costumes were from Star Trek, you would’ve been dubbed Bob two-point-oh before ever stepping foot in the bar.

As he’d remained quiet, there was no hiding the surprise on every face - save for Natasha’s - when he stepped into the Hard Deck with you by his side. The reaction was warranted, despite his own costume’s simplicity, and he knew it. He knew that all eyes would’ve been on you, regardless of who you entered with, but his presence at your side only served to garner more attention for both of you.

Of all the patrons in the bar, Mickey seemed to be the only person who had even the slightest clue who either of you were supposed to be. Once the initial shock of seeing Bob with someone wore off, there was a look of dim recognition in his eyes. But recognition was never really the point of the costume and, honestly, no one seemed to be paying that much attention to the clothes themselves as you approached the bar in search of a drink.

Everyone in the vicinity was too focused on the fact that Robert Floyd was not alone and was, instead, accompanied by a woman they deemed well and truly out of his league - a fact he had no intention of arguing with.

It was unnerving and he felt a strange flurry of emotion - a little pride, a little ire, a lot of insecurity - as he struggled to keep from shrinking under the weight of nearly every eye in the room raking over the pair of you. They would all get bored soon, he knew, but it didn’t help that he could practically hear the whispered conversations wondering just what you were doing with him.

Bob’s flight suit, an old one he’d nearly tossed out that had been dyed navy and adorned with custom patches, was straight from the first iteration of the starship Enterprise. Combined with the slicked back hair, it could’ve been something plucked straight from his daily wardrobe. His inner Trip Tucker had yet to be channeled, though he knew it would take a drink or three before he felt compelled to lean into the accent he did his best to hide.

You, on the other hand, leaned fully into the roll of mirror-verse T’Pol the moment you donned your costume. It was bold, a navy crop top and low-waisted pants, and completely out of the realm of comfort but it was fun. And, though he still managed to flush each time you caught him, he’d lost himself eyeing the vast array of exposed skin more than he cared to admit.

Still, as much as he found himself enjoying the costume - and he’d made sure to let you know just how much before leaving home - he could feel himself beginning to spiral into the same self-doubt he tried so desperately to combat. But regardless of how he was beginning to feel, he did his best to swallow those feelings as Penny approached.

Bob’s reputation was not your fault, neither was the subsequent surprise at your appearance, and it didn’t seem that you even noticed the attention as you took in the decor of the bar.

“This place is really cute.” Bob smiled, not at all surprised by your bright-eyed cheer when he needed it most - because you had noticed the attention, as well as the discomfort it brought - and hummed as you waited for Penny to fish out a beer for the patron in front of you. “I get why you guys like it so much.”

“It’s one of the better Navy bars I’ve been to,” he agreed, not bothering to hide his fondness as he removed his hand from the small of your back to step a little closer. He was careful to leave just enough space between you - not so much as to invite any unwanted attention, but enough to feel the warmth of your skin if he turned just so - and tipped his head to smile at you. “But it’s better with you here.”

Bob’s hand found yours then, fingers intertwining with yours, and you sighed quietly at the warmth of him. It was easier to think, to feel grounded in the moment, with his hand in yours and you knew that he felt the same.

A smile, bright despite the warmth of so many gazes settling on your skin, lifted the corners of your mouth as you tilted your head to hide your face. Bob could see it, that same bashful grin you’d always gotten when he laid on the charm, and felt his mood improve as you shook your head fondly.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Robbie.”

Though the novelty of your appearance was beginning to wane, Bob could still feel the weight of a handful of gazes pressing on his shoulders. You were well aware of them all, noticed them the moment you wandered in, but the only gaze that mattered to you was his.

Bob was careful not to leer - despite the ease with which he could’ve done so, and the permission you gave him to do so - though his gaze continued to fall to the exposed expanse of your chest. Despite the years you’d spent together, the countless times he’d seen you naked, his cheeks still flushed a little brighter pink each time and you resisted the urge to coo as Penny approached.

Though Bob imagined Natasha would make her way over the moment she saw you, Penny was the first to greet you both. Her smile was bright, friendly, and she managed to hide her surprise, even as she caught sight of the silver band adorning his ring finger.

“The usual, Bob, or are we switching it up for Halloween?” The question was teasing, a thinly veiled prod at the very obvious departure from his usual, but not unkind and he took it in stride as you squeezed his hand.

Usually, when left to his own devices - and dragged to the Hard Deck instead of being allowed to head straight home to you - Bob opted for soda. It was easier to make the drive home then, faster than having to call an Uber or rely on a friend, and gave him an easy out when he bid his goodbyes after less than an hour.

Bob indulged, though he was never fond of getting truly drunk, but only when you were by his side. Drinking with you was more fun - and usually ended with the pair of you tangled beneath the sheets - but Penny didn’t know that. Instead, she’d taken to stocking a few extra glass bottled sodas and offered good-natured encouragement for him to try something new every now and again. He rarely did, almost always opting for a coke, but tonight was a night for changes, it seemed.

“A beer, please, Penny.” Try as he might to hide the accent, a hint of that drawl you loved so much escaped - evidence of just how comfortable he was with you, able to be a version of himself few saw. Penny seemed to notice and pulled a beer from the ice with a grin before raising a brow at you. Before you could open your mouth, however, Bob squeezed your hand and smiled. “And a vodka soda, please.”

Another smile from Penny, one that painted a veery clear picture of her enjoyment at seeing another side of Bob, as she turned to begin your drink while you fixed him with a fond look. “I would’ve been fine with a beer,” you assured him, taking a half-step closer to allow another person easier access to the bar. “It’s busy.”

Bob shrugged, easily accommodating your sudden closeness with a half-smile, as he lifted the bottle from the bar. “But is a beer what you really wanted?”

Just as he had a tendency to diminish himself for others’ comfort, to go with the flow and avoid drawing too much attention, you had a habit of settling. In a crowded bar, a busy restaurant, a bustling cafe, you tried to avoid making a fuss, despite knowing what you really wanted, and he knew that. Something as simple as ordering a drink he knew you’d like rather than one he knew you wouldn’t care for was a small gesture, easily lost in the chaos of your shared lives, but one that managed to warm you from within.

A small ache, pleasant and bright and light and lifting the weight of so many eyes pressing into your skin, settled in your chest as you squeezed his hand three times. “I’m very fond of you. You know that, right?”

Bob laughed quietly as he nodded, that soft smile never leaving his lips as he returned the quick squeezes, but that amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. It wasn’t immediately noticeable - he did a damn good job of hiding his feelings, for the most part - but you’d known him your entire life. There was a depth to those blue eyes, a brightness, that was missing and it gave you a moment’s pause as you tipped your head to study his face.

“You okay?”

Lifted eyebrows displayed his surprise at having been caught - there were moments of doubt where he still seemed caught off guard by your attention, your affection, your love despite having been in love for most of your lives - but he was quick to smile and nod.

“Mm, m’fine.” The reassurance was softly spoken, barely audible over the din of the crowd, and you didn’t exactly believe it. Even as his smile grew a touch brighter, as his eyes lightened a half-shade, even as he lifted his beer and took a sip, your brows furrowed.

Bob’s shoulders were tense, easily visible through the thin material of his flight suit, and you could see the way he chewed the inside of his cheek as he glanced around the crowded bar. His gaze never settled for long, never lingered in one spot for more than a few seconds, and you knew that it had at least a little to do with the attention you were both on the receiving end of.

When he nodded once more, hand slipping from yours to return to the small of your back as Penny placed your drink on the bar, you shot him your own smile - one you hoped looked as reassuring as you meant it. “Whenever you decide you’re ready to leave, you know I’m always down to go home and get comfortable.”

Though he wasn’t one for public displays, Bob tugged you a little closer to press you into his side as he nodded. “One of the many, many things I love about you. But I’m okay,” he assured you, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than you. But he didn’t give you time to dwell as he asked, “Ready to meet everyone?”

There was a time and place to dwell on the feelings you knew were beginning to bubble - it wasn’t that hard to tell. Where at least a little of the tension was coming from as a group of men to your left glanced at the pair of you and began to snicker - and the Hard Deck was not it. So, you simply nodded. “Lead the way.”

As you shuffled through the crowd, headed in the direction of the pool table in the corner, you caught sight of Natasha.

While you were skeptical at first, uncertain as to how well your husband would adjust to life back in Fightertown and being her WSO, you found yourself thrilled to have her in your life. She respected Bob more than anyone he’d ever flown with, and received his respect in turn, and took the time to get to know you both personally. After he introduced the pair of you, you’d started seeing her at least once a week - with and without Bob - and had come to love her almost more than your husband did.

The sight of her was a welcome one, a certainty in the midst of a storm, even as she blinked in surprise at your costume. And though you were half-expecting her to be the first to speak, to break the silence that fell over the group with your approach, it seemed as if no one was really sure what to say.

For a split second, everyone paused before the man you recognized as Hangman - easily identifiable with nothing more than Bob’s stories to help you pinpoint him - beat them all to it.

“Well, well, Baby on Board,” he drawled, cowboy hat tipped back on his head and brows raised as he eyed the pair of you. “Who is this?”

Bob had always been good at hiding his annoyance - or maybe no one ever really cared enough to notice it - but you could see the tic of his jaw as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Hangman got under his skin, despite Natasha urging him to ignore the Texan, and you knew that the teasing question would only add to the ire he already felt.

Still, he managed to swallow whatever quip lingered on the tip of his tongue with a sip of beer, even as his fingers pressed a little harder into the warmth of your skin. “This is my wife.” His announcement was followed by your name, spoken into the relative quiet of the group, and saw everyone blinking in surprise. Someone - Fanboy, if the Mandalorian costume was anything to go by - sputtered a sip of beer as another laughed incredulously.

Hangman was the first to recover, lips parting in surprise and grip loosening on his darts as his gaze darted between you both. He allowed himself a real look, gaze sweeping your exposed skin, before he laughed. “Sorry, I think Rooster’s singing has finally ruined my hearing,” he teased, earning an unimpressed glower from the mustached pilot dressed as a rooster. “Did you just say wife?”

The moment the word rippled through the small group, uttered just a little louder, it seemed as if every eye fell to Bob. The silver of his ring glittered in the dim light, bright and eye-catching now that it had been pointed out, and you swallowed your amusement with a sip of vodka.

Though neither of you particularly enjoyed being the center of attention, this was almost to be expected. It had happened more than once, would likely continue to happen, and you found a way to enjoy the surprise on every face as you hummed.

“We’ve been married almost three years now.” As you spoke, you lifted your left hand to his chest - not bothering to hide your grin as their attention fell to your own ring - and patted the Enterprise insignia sewn into the fabric.

While the men blinked, lips parted and brows raised high as they attempted to process the information they’d been dealt, Natasha nudged her way through a set of them.

“I would make a joke about stealing you from Bob if he’s not careful, but the two of you just look too damn good together.” A teasing grin accompanied her words even as she pulled you into an embrace, careful not to spill either of your drinks. “It’s kind of annoying how perfect you look.” It was light, playful, but you both still managed to flush under her scrutiny as she eyed your costumes.

“Us? Look at you. Giving a whole new meaning to sinful thoughts,” you teased, grinning when Bob laughed at your side and shook his head. “Everyone looks great,” you complimented, smiling genuinely when the others preened. “I was worried I wouldn’t be able to tell who’s who in the costumes.” As you glanced around the small group, eager to observe the people who had become Bob’s closest friends, you were met with nothing but a pleasant intrigue. “Robbie’s descriptions have made it pretty easy, though.”

“Aw, Robbie.” Hangman grinned as he reached out to pinch Bob’s cheek, laughing all the while. Even as the others rolled their eyes, clearly seeing where his teasing was going, Hangman continued, “You talk about us? That’s so sweet!”

“Don’t be a dick, Bagman.” Natasha’s huff was lightly scolding, though it lacked the venom you expected, even as she rolled her eyes. She implored Bob to ignore Hangman’s taunts, to not engage - even when he wanted to - but you were grateful she attempted to keep him in check.

Rooster - who you suspected knew about your existence before tonight, whether he was told by Natasha or had simply put the pieces together himself as he looked wholly unsurprised by your presence and displayed a sort of brotherly pride when he regarded Bob - scoffed a laugh.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he warned, partially under his breath.

Hangman, who looked entirely unbothered by the exchange, waved them off with a dismissive hand as he leaned against the pool table and eyed you both. “Anyway,” he drawled, gesturing to the pair of you with the tip of a dart, “how’d you and Baby on Board meet? Library, bookstore?” When you simply raised a brow at him, unimpressed, he shrugged. “I was under the impression he only existed at work and in this bar."

Though he made an effort to conceal his annoyance, from the corner of your eye, you could see Bob roll his eyes. Hangman never truly got under his skin - not in the way he intended, anyway - and the group had even come to like him. There were no ill intentions, not really, but you could tell his line of questioning was not helping the ire Bob began to feel the moment you stepped into the bar.

The more you thought about it, the easier it was to realize that discomfort from the influx of attention was not the only thing bothering him. Though his friends were clearly happy for him, it was easy to see the same look reflected in their eyes that you’d seen in others. They wondered what you were doing with Bob and how they’d gone this long without knowing you existed.

And while he wasn’t the most confident man, Bob was secure enough in your love that he rarely allowed that question to bother him. Tonight, however, it seemed as if he’d fallen victim to the insecurity that sometimes haunted him.

With a sigh, careful to keep your gesture light rather than outwardly comforting - though that was exactly what you intended it to be, a grounding touch to quiet the noise inside his head - you shifted your hand to gently squeeze his bicep. The entire group was wanted an answer, and likely would’ve asked the question in a more polite way, so you directed the reply to them.

“We grew up together.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you spared him a glance, easily remembering the doe-eyed boy with the crooked smile who lived in nearly every childhood memory. “He lived a few houses down from me and our grandmothers were friends. We did pretty much everything together for the longest time. Nothing really happened until he asked me to Homecoming our freshman year of high school, though.”

Everyone, including Hangman, visibly softened at the revelation. The knowledge that Bob married a childhood friend, his high school sweetheart, was wholly unsurprising but enough to pull a simultaneous, “Aw,” from them all.

“We were high school sweethearts,” he confirmed, smile now reaching his eyes as he tipped his head to meet your gaze. The look softened, if only slightly, and grew a touch melancholy as he laughed quietly. “I would’ve married her then but we decided to take a break and went our separate ways when I got into the Academy and she went down south for school.”

Surprise was evident at the softness of his voice, the ease and confidence with which he declared he would’ve married you a decade ago, but it prompted a fond smile as you shook your head. You would’ve married him then, too, and you could feel your cheeks heat with a pleasant warmth that made you feel just a touch bashful - as it always did when Bob looked at you like you were the only person he could see.

“Worst decision of my life.”

The declaration was teasing, light and exaggerated, but neither of you truly regretted it. Though you were confident Bob was it for you, just as you were it for him, the years you spent apart gave you time to grow. You learned, matured, and became adults without fear of hurting one another along the way. That would’ve been significantly harder with the added worry of a long distance relationship and the first few deployments Bob endured - even if you worried about him, anyway.

It still managed to prompt a laugh from everyone, including Bob, as you returned your attention to the group. “We both came home for the holidays a few years ago, the first time we’d been there at the same time since we stopped seeing each other, and well… You know what they say. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

Natasha, who knew you were high school sweethearts but hadn’t heard much beyond that, groaned as she gestured at you with her beer. “Ugh,” she scoffed, exaggerated and unable to hide the smile that lifted her lips. “I really want to be annoyed at how that sounds like the plot to some romance movie but it’s too cute to really be upset.”

Hangman, who had - surprisingly - remained quiet for the duration of the story, nodded his agreement. “It’s so cute,” he began, pushing away from the pool table, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“I think it’s nice. We’re all happy for you, Bob” Rooster declared, smile soft as he met your eyes, “and very glad to meet you.”

“Definitely,” Fanboy confirmed, smile bright as he nodded - seemingly uncaring that his helmet began to fall into his eyes. “And you’re a Trekkie! We’re growing in numbers every day.”

The conversation began to dissolve then, breaking apart into a series of side conversations you were no longer the center of as Payback urged Fanboy not to begin a conversation about which series was best. There was no telling when the novelty of your appearance would begin to wane - especially as Hangman and Coyote continued sparing you and Bob cursory glances - but their attention was beginning to wander.

That brief lull gave you a moment to tip your head and meet your husband’s eyes. The look in them was an endearing blend of concern and amusement as his lips curved into a thoughtful frown. “Are you okay?”

Bob’s concern was genuine and you could tell that he was worried his new, boisterous friends might be too much, but it was for naught. Though this was the largest group he’d ever introduced you to, the largest group he’d been content to be part of, you were glad to see that they all clearly cared for him.

Despite the initial teasing - and surprise - it was evident that they were all happy to see that he was loved. Natasha once confided that she’d been worried Bob was going home to an empty house after a night out, that they all worried he was lonely, but knowing that he had you eased that concern.

“I’m good.” The reason you worked so well together came down to a handful of similarities but a world of differences. Though you disliked being the center of attention as much as he did, you were fine with the weight of their intrigue so long, just as long as it meant his world was a little less money when you weren’t around. You lifted a hand to gently squeeze his bicep once more as you spared the group a glance. “I like them,” you assured him. “I’m really glad things are working out here.”

In that moment, you knew that he wasn’t as thrilled as he could’ve been. With the noise of so many thoughts racing through his mind, his mood soured slightly by overthinking and a little insecurity, he’d gone a little quieter than normal. Still, you knew just how relieved he was that his return to San Diego could be good for both of you.

“I am, too.” He drew you in closer then, wrapped an arm around your waist to squeeze you gently, before allowing Natasha to reclaim your attention. “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured you, crooked smile on full display as she gestured to the small table with a few others.

Bob had never been one to really belong, to fall readily into a group and be at the heart of it rather than the periphery, but this time seemed different. He was still quiet, sometimes forgotten in the fray, but it eased your own anxiety to see them casually toss out questions or pull him into moments of conversation.

Watching Rooster and Bob converse easily, watching him toss out a few quips at Hangman, watching him laugh with Fanboy; each moment was small in comparison to the grand scheme of things, but each was a great moment. Seeing him find that camaraderie made the move worth it, the stress and the anxiety of building your life from scratch all over again, and you were glad to join him for the ride.

And as you watched him interact, laughing as Payback and Fanboy each attempted to sway him to their side of an argument, you couldn’t help but smile. Though there was still a tension in his shoulders, you could tell he’d calmed enough to start pulling out of his head and returning to the Robbie you knew and loved.

The novelty of your appearance was gone, no longer a thought to those who had no interest in Robert Floyd, and with the weight of so many gazes gone from his shoulders, it seemed as if he could breathe freely once more. He looked as relaxed as you’d ever seen him in the presence of so many people, as at ease as he could be, and you took advantage of the moment of calm.

A soft press to his shoulder distracted him momentarily, drew his full attention from the conversation he’d been in with Rooster, as you offered him a smile. “The buttons are still being weird,” you informed him, gesturing to the top he’d heard you complain about a handful of times already. “I’m going to see if I can fix them. Didn’t want you worrying I got swept out to sea,” you teased, grinning as the apples of his cheeks flushed pink when his eyes fell to your chest.

Without sparing a glance over your shoulder, you knew that Bob refused to let you out of his sight until you disappeared into the small corridor housing the bathrooms. Anywhere else and he would’ve offered to walk with you, to settle at a table near the doors until you were done, but he trusted the Hard Deck a little more than anywhere else he’d taken you - and trusted that you could handle any unwanted attention. He still kept a watchful eye on you, ready to race to your side should you need him, and the thought made you smile, even as you fiddled with the buttons of your top.

When you managed to pull yourself together as best as you could - the top was not one you cared that much about saving as there was no other occasion you could see yourself donning it - but before you could step back into the hallway, a warm set of hands fell to your biceps and gently nudged you back into the room.

The familiar scent of citrus and pine, warm and bright, hit your nose just as the only voice you wanted to hear calmed your now racing heart. “Just me,” Bob assured you, crooked grin softening when you lifted your eyes to meet his. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

As you lifted a hand to your chest, fingers pressing against warm skin, you laughed quietly. “You did,” you teased, voice a touch breathless. The rapid thrum of your heart, a split second of shock and adrenaline coursing through your veins, earned a light laugh from him as you shook your head. “But it’s fine. It is Halloween. Everything alright?”

Bright eyes darkened slightly, a touch stormier than his usual blue, but his features were more relaxed than they had been only moments earlier. The smile on his lips was real, soft and small but genuine, as he hummed. “Fine,” he assured you, nodding as he reached behind his back to lock the door. “Just wanted a second alone.”

When things got a little chaotic, crowd too hectic to. Handle for long moments, he had a habit of stepping away for solace. More often than not, you were pulled along and you couldn’t help but smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You’ll never catch me complaining about that.”

Some small part of you assumed this would be like any other moment of quiet, a brief reprieve from the noise and the crowd just outside the door, but it seemed as if Bob had other plans. His fingers began to brush along the exposed skin of your hips and stomach, touch feather light but leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you searched his face.

There was a look of determination there, a resolve that you didn’t quite understand, but before you could question it, he dipped his head to press his mouth to yours.

The kiss was light, a soft embrace that had you sighing quietly and pressing yourself just a little closer, but you could feel the emotion behind it as his hands stroked your sides. While he wasn’t one for public displays - and while he was able to beautifully communicate his feelings with you - he had a habit of allowing his actions to speak for themselves.

It was rare that he got in this mood, a little anxious and a lot determined - to do what, you weren’t sure; prove himself, remind himself that you were his, quiet his anxiety with the taste of you on his tongue - but you allowed him to take what he needed as he slowly began to walk you backward.

Regardless of the tone set for the night, there was always a gentleness to Bob’s touch. Even when his fingers dug into your hips, short nails biting at the skin while he urged you back against the counter, he was careful to avoid hurting you.

There would be marks there tomorrow, a memory of his touch branded into your skin, but the way he caressed the tender spots always made any momentary discomfort worth it. And any future annoyance - minor, in comparison to everything else - remained far from the forefront of your mind as his hands began to wander.

Under any other circumstances, Bob’s hands would’ve found their way beneath the hem of your top. But given the time you’d had with buttons - and the knowledge you’d given him beforehand, that when the night was over, he could remove the top from you himself - he was careful to stick to teasing brushes of his fingers along your heated skin.

“Robbie.” The sigh of his name was muffled by his mouth, spoken into the relative quiet of the bathroom, and his answering hum drew laughter from you. “Not that I’m upset at all by this turn of events, but where is this coming from?”

Bob pulled away then, lips parted and glasses slightly askew, to smile at you. His hands remained on your skin, lightly caressing the expanse of skin just above the waistband of your pants, as he dipped his head. “I don’t know if I’ve already said this tonight, but you look amazing. I… it’s been hard to think about anything else,” he admitted, flushing slightly as he glanced at you from beneath his lashes. “Just really wanted to kiss you.”

It was almost impossible to count how many times he complimented you before leaving home - how many different ways he declared his affection, his pure adoration - but his confession brought a smile to your lips as you raked your fingers through his hair.

“You might’ve mentioned it a couple times, but it’s still nice to hear.” Bob hummed, voice catching in his throat, as you scratched lightly at the base of his neck. He leaned into your touch, eager to lose himself in you, as you grinned. “Kiss me again, please.”

One of the features of your relationship - something you treasured beyond words - was his comfort with the give and take. Despite his reserved nature, Bob was comfortable with you. You’d been there from the beginning, had the experience of being one another’s first and, hopefully, last. There was no room for judgement and he knew that.

Bob could take what he wanted - knew that you would give it freely - and pin you to the nearest flat surface in search of it. He could be domineering, take charge and leave you breathless and desperate, but he could also hand over the reins with no qualms.

Tonight, you imagined you were both on equal footing. Bob wanted to take, you wanted to give. He needed a light push, a nudge in the direction he so desperately wanted to go, and you were happy to give it to him.

The second kiss grew more intense, much faster. There was no secret what he wanted - you could feel the evidence of his desire pressed to your thigh, just as you could feel your own desire beginning to gather between your thighs - and you were happy to give it to him.

Instead of allowing him to continue brushing the waistband of your pants, you popped the button before taking his hand to slip it beneath the navy fabric. You could feel the corner of his lip quirk in a lopsided smile, glad that you wanted the same thing he did, as he complied and slipped his hand between your thighs.

Bob wasted no time nudging the fabric of your panties aside, fingers gathering slick as his thumb bumped your clit. His mouth remained on yours, tang of beer barely noticeable over the mint gum he’d popped the moment you disappeared into the bathroom, as you inhaled sharply at the touch.

“We have to be quick.” Your reminder was muffled but understandable, easy to follow given the circumstances, and Bob hummed his acknowledgment. Public displays were not his favorite, but this was not the first time you’d found yourselves locked in a bar bathroom.

Instead of replying, Bob was quick to remove his hand from between your thighs. He swallowed your huff of disappointment with a laugh as he began to tug the fabric of your pants and panties down and only broke the kiss to follow.

When he fell to his knees, blue eyes lifting to yours, you let out a noise half-way between a whine and a laugh. Bob lifted a finger to his mouth and shushed you, crooked grin growing brighter as he placed a hand below your knee to hitch your leg over his shoulder. “Keep your voice down,” he urged, though it was uttered amidst a quiet laughter. “There’s still a party going on.”

Even as he turned his head, pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh - tracing a path he’d committed to memory over the years - your fingers fell to his head as you spared the door a glance. “You sure about this, Robbie? Any of them hear, they’re never going to let you live it down."

“Hate to break it to you,” he hummed, hands smoothing over your skin as he inched closer to where you wanted him, “but I’m already not going to live this down. Everyone knows I have a hot wife, completely out of my league. They’re never letting this go.”

Before you could refute his claim, roll your eyes and chide him for allowing their line of thinking to taint his thoughts, he leaned in and dragged his tongue through your folds. He licked a broad strip, tongue flat and mouth eager, and you could only do so much to keep yourself quiet.

The sight of him alone was enough to have you keening, desperate and eager for him. Those bright blue eyes, blinking up at you from between your parted thighs; hair mussed, curls breaking free from the hold of gel with every drag of your fingers; glasses knocked askew, fogged with the heat of your body and his cheeks as he presses even closer.

Bob had never been one to half-ass your pleasure, always eager to give you exactly what you deserved, and the space made no difference. His fingers dug into your hip to keep you in place, to drag you closer to his mouth as he moaned into you. His tongue swiped, lapped at the aching bundle of nerves, as those eyes searched your face for any hint of discomfort. When he found none, he asked, “Good?”

“So good, Robbie.” Over the years, he’d gotten it down to an art. Bob knew you better than anyone, could read your body better than you at times, and you were reminded of just how easily he could send you soaring the moment he began to alternate between soft flicks of his tongue and broad strokes.

You lifted one hand to your mouth, eager to keep quiet, while the other fell to his hair. You tangled the curls between your fingers, no longer caring about the gel you were ruining, and tugged lightly with every flick of his tongue. Bob gave his all and you took all that you could, grinding your hips and chasing your pleasure.

It was almost embarrassing, just how quick he was able to work you over, but when he knew your body this well, it would’ve been hard for him to do anything more than have you seeing stars. He knew the signs of your impending orgasm, could tell the moment you began to whine and shift in his grasp, and he encouraged you to come with a moan as his eyes lifted to yours.

As you barreled over the edge, Bob helped you through, never stopping his kitten licks as he swallowed all you had to give. Soft hands caressed your skin, touch gentle as you came down, and those blue eyes never left your face as you attempted to catch your breath.

Silence lingered for a moment, your ragged breathing the only sound aside from the dim noise of the party outside the door, before you laughed and shook your head. “I think I’m fine calling it a night if you are.”

Bob grinned, expression bright and eager, as he helped you back into your pants. He took the help you offered for his hair, despite how impossible you both knew it would be to flatten the curls now that they’d been destroyed, before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your mouth.

“Lead the way.”

As you made your way through the crowd, back to the bar to pay your tab, all eyes fell to you once more. This time, however, Bob didn’t shrink beneath the weight of their gazes. Their looks were knowing, easily picking apart the pieces of you both that clearly displayed what you’d been doing. But instead of rushing out, he kept a hand on your hip and hid his smile.

Sometimes, even if a little embarrassment bloomed in the pit of his stomach, the attention was worth it. And even though he knew he’d never hear the end of it, Bob wasn’t quite so sure he minded. Because at the end of the night, he had friends he cared for and the love of his life. And, really, what more could he ask for?

_____________________________________________

Author’s Note: The first time writing for someone new is always a little nerve-racking. Also, the costume might not be realistic for everyone (I wouldn’t wear it) but that’s my dream costume and Bob strikes me as a Trekkie. I’m not sure if this is totally in character for him. He'd be fun to write angst for, though, I think.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @xlynnx07, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @prettymucheveryothernamewastaken, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name, @ccristata, @feltonswifesworld87, @mxdi0, @angellwingggs, @s00buwu, @mjsvinyl, @woodlandmouth, @hngmnslver, @wifey-halstead, @pr3ttyr0s3xs, @winchester126, @peoniarose, @hangmanscoming, @maybankive, @cas1fer

#top gun smut #top gun one shot #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #top gun maverick smut #top gun maverick x reader #top gun x reader #robert floyd smut #robert bob floyd x reader #bob x reader #bob floyd imagine #v's fics

658 notes · View notes