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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year

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Lessons in Love.

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 3615

Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

“No way. How is that even possible?”

You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.

“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.

“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”

The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.

You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.

Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.

A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.

“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”

Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.

You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.

You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.

　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 . ✵

When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.

The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.

Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.

And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.

Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.

He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.

“Hi.”

Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.

“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.

“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”

You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.

It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.

You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.

He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.

“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.

“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.

“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.

You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.

You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.

“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.

“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.

“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”

You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.

“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.

“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.

Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?

He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.

He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.

“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”

Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.

“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.

He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.

At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.

Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.

“Bucky,” he murmurs.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.

“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.

“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”

You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.

You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.

“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.

“There’s more than one kind of milk?”

Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.

“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”

He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.

“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”

She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.

“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.

“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”

No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.

Instead, he answers cautiously.

“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.

“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.

Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.

“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.

You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.

Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.

“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.

“What, me?” you tease.

“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.

“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.

“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.

“Why don’t we do it together?”

A pause. He’s confused again.

“Do what together?”

“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”

It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.

You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.

“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”

Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.

“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”

He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.

You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.

“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”

He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.

“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.

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You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.

Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.

“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.

You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”

He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.

You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.

Underneath your name, only one thing is written.

I love you.

You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,

“You do?”

That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.

“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”

You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.

“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.

“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.

He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?

You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.

He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.

Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –

“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”

I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

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inmyglenpowellera · 2 months

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An Innocent Game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Request: requested by @kati-1997. Asked for best friends to lovers, everybody sees that they like each other but he admits it after someone flirts with the reader, the crew and Penny bet that they get together.

Word Count: 5949 words

Summary: Jake and the reader are best friends, however, the Dagger Squad and Penny can see they both want to be more than that. What started off as a bet of when the two will get together turns into a different game that leads to trouble.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, angst, cursing (I think, I can't remember for sure, kissing.

It started as a game. An innocent little game for the entire Dagger Squad to play, minus Maverick who was trying to be the responsible one out of the group. But honestly, the oldest member couldn’t blame the group for what they started. They had to do something to deal with Fightertown's most clueless couple.

What started as placing bets for when the two of you finally got together turned into a drinking game.

Take a drink when one of you calls the other a nickname or says something flirty.

Take two drinks if one of you kisses the other on the cheek, forehead, or head.

Take a shot when Hangman tries to show you how to properly play pool.

Take two shots if you hold hands.

Finish your drink if you guys end up dancing together.

Needless to say, the members of the Dagger Squad are more on track for liver failure rather than winning any money.

“I’m never playing that game ever again,” Rooster groaned out to the group the next morning, slumped down in his chair with his aviators placed over his closed eyes.

“Yeah, right. We all know we’ll be doing the same thing when we go out again,” Phoenix argued with him, her state being the same, except she’s leaned forward in her seat, head down and buried in her arms.

“I’ve never drunk so much in my entire life,” Bob groaned out from next to her, sunglasses placed on his nose instead of his usual spectacles for seeing properly.

“I think I’m still drunk,” Fanboy stated, Payback humming in agreement from his seat next to him.

“I’m honestly surprised Penny served us as much as she did last night,” Coyote spoke up.

“It’s because Penny understands the pain we are going through right now with watching the two of them together. I’m starting to seriously think we need to step in and do something about it. I don’t know if my liver can take another night like this,” Rooster told the group.

“What do you expect us to do, Rooster? It’s not like we can just come out and say-,” Coyote was cut off by Pheonix shushing him at the sound of whistling.

Jake Hangman Seresin immediately stopped in his tracks when he took in the sight of his fellow aviators. He couldn’t help but laugh at the hungover group as he slowly walked further into the room, grinning around his toothpick.

“Well, it looks like some people had a fun night,” He said with a chuckle, taking his usual seat at the front of the room.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Fanboy muttered, causing Payback to send an elbow into his side.

Hangman showed no sign of hearing his muttered phrase and pulled his phone out to reply to a text sent by you.

Darling: Phoenix hasn’t replied to me this morning. Should I be worried?

His smile widened across his face as he replied to you.

Cowboy: Don’t you worry, darling. It looks to me like she and the rest of the group had a long night last night.

Jake discreetly took a picture of the group sitting behind him with their glasses on and sent it to you. Jake then locked his phone back up and placed it into his pocket before turning to look back at everybody.

“Are any of you going to be up to standards today,” He asked curiously.

“We’ll be fine Hangman, don’t you worry about us,” Coyote told his best friend.

“I just hope Maverick won’t be too hard on us today. I think I might puke if we do any crazy maneuvers,” Bob groaned.

“That’s the price to pay for underage drinking Baby on Board,” Jake said smugly from the front of the room.

“You’re such an ass,” Bob whispered, and everybody was too hungover to comment on the unexpected cursing from the WSO.

Everybody remained silent as they heard the door to their room swing open. Maverick quietly stepped into the room and slowly walked to the front, taking in the state of his team. He shook his head in amusement and cursed his girlfriend for serving them as much as she did. He dropped his clipboard on the podium in the front with a bang, causing all of the aviators, minus the cause of the problem, to let out groans of pain.

“Please never do that again,” Rooster groaned out to his godfather.

“Good morning to you too,” Maverick said with amusement in his voice. “Judging by the look of everybody in this room, practicing flight maneuvers is out of the question and is going to have to be moved to a different day.”

A resounding groaned cheer of numerous “thank gods” and “yes, pleases” rang out from the group, causing Hangman to scoff at the group and shake his head.

“That being said, you guys still aren’t off the hook. I want you all down at the beach behind the Hard Deck and ready for dogfight football within the hour,” Maverick ordered the group, causing them to still groan out in disagreement.

“I’d honestly much rather fly a plane than constantly be tackled to the ground,” Rooster argued.

“That’s the point. I don’t want to hear complaints from the maintenance team about having to hose vomit out from your cockpits, but I can’t let you all off the hook. You’re punishment for drinking so much the night before work is dogfight football. See you all in an hour,” Maverick smirked, leaving the room and the aviators to pull themselves from their seats.

-----

“They look like they’re struggling more than usual,” I commented about the sluggish group of aviators on the beach in front of me.

Penny hummed in acknowledgment and amusement before speaking. “All of them but your best friend.”

I followed her gaze to said aviator and blushed when I saw him, tanned skin glistening in the sun, muscles on show for anyone and everyone to see. I sighed wistfully at him as I continued admiring him, knowing full well Penny was also doing so with Maverick.

“They’re all hungover,” Penny reminded me with a smirk, going back to her work sitting in front of her.

“How are they so hungover? Did they keep drinking after Jake gave me a ride home,” I questioned her in disbelief.

“No, they stopped drinking when you left. You just didn’t realize how much they were drinking while you were here,” She explained. “Probably because you were so focused on a certain Lieutenant Seresin.”

I removed my gaze from the group and glared over at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” Penny nodded at me in amusement.

I rolled my eyes at her and looked back at the group to watch Jake do a double take towards our table. I grinned at him and raised my hand in a wave, seeing a wide grin also take over his face and wave back. After his actions, I watched as all of the aviators slowly looked over and had mixed reactions to my presence. Some groaned in what looked like exhaustion while some waved at me with a small smile.

“How long have they been at this,” I questioned Penny curiously.

“A little over an hour. Pete said it was punishment for getting so drunk when they knew they had work the next morning,” Penny told me with a proud grin at the thought of her boyfriend.

“He would punish them for having fun,” I poked at her, causing her to frown at me and kick me under the table. “I was joking. So, what do you think, maybe a little hair of the dog will help them get through it?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Penny argued with me, seeming to know something I don’t know.

“It’ll be fine, Pen,” I argued with her, pulling the back door of the Hard Deck open and making my way to behind the bar.

I began gathering beers together and placing them on top of the bar. I looked around across the bartop to see no bottle opener in sight. I sighed in frustration and began moving jars of garnishes to the side to locate the opener. When unsuccessful, I groaned and squatted down to locate the opener on one of the shelves underneath the bar and let out a small cheer when I saw one behind a glass jar. I pulled the jar out and reached for the opener, placing it up on the bartop. I went to place the jar back when I noticed a heart drawn on it. I furrowed my brows and held it farther away from my face to properly examine it.

I opened the container and looked inside to see rolls of cash shoved inside of it.

“What the hell,” I murmured to myself in confusion.

I gripped the jar in my hand and walked towards the back door of the bar, pushing it open with my hip and walking towards the bartender.

“Penny, what the hell is a jar with a heart drawn on it stuffed full of cash doing underneath your bar,” I questioned her in confusion.

I could see the woman freeze briefly and some color drain from her face before she looked up at me wide-eyed. I stared at her expectantly and placed the jar on the table in front of her, watching her glance between the jar and myself a few times before speaking.

“It’s…,” She trailed off, causing me to raise my brows at her. “It’s some money I’ve been saving up for a trip for Pete and me. I’ve been hiding it underneath the bar so he doesn’t see it.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Well, I would love to contribute some, if that’s okay,” I started reaching for my purse, causing her to stop me and grab the jar from the table.

“No, that’s okay. That’s not necessary at all,” She shrugged.

“Are you sure,” I questioned her again.

“Positive,” She nodded at me tightly before looking back at the door. “Weren’t you getting drinks for everybody?”

My eyes widened at the reminder and walked back inside to grab the beers I had planned on acquiring previously. After opening all of them I gripped them in my arms and hands and began walking them out to the beach where the aviators continued their game.

“I heard that some of you could use a bit of help in your day,” I called out, gaining their attention.

I heard some sighs of relief and resounding “thank yous” as they all made their way towards me and began taking the beers off of my hands. Jake was the last one to greet me and the grin on his face caused mine to widen as well. He took the beer from my outstretched hand before gripping it and pulling me towards him.

“Thank you, darling,” he told me, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re welcome, hotshot,” I grinned at him.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the rest of the group all shared looks before taking four long drinks of their beer in unison.

“Don’t overdo it again guys,” Maverick scolded them, taking a drink of his beer as well before sighing. “We can be done for the day. Get some rest and be ready for work on Monday.”

“Yes, sir,” Rang out around me as everybody sighed in relief at being done for the day.

I giggled at all of them in amusement as I moved closer to Jake and wrapped my arms around his waist. “How are all of you so hungover? Penny told me you stopped drinking after we left last night.”

Everybody stayed quiet at my question and continued drinking their beer, causing me to shrug and hug myself closer to Jake.

“Honey, I’m all sweaty and sandy, I’m sure you don’t want to be touching me right now,” Jake informed me with a grin, taking his sunglasses off and placing them on my face so I was no longer squinting up at him.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, pressing my face into his chest and admiring his green eyes shining in the sunlight.

Everyone groaned simultaneously and took another long gulp of beer, causing me to squint at them in confusion.

“Is there something we’re missing here,” I questioned all of them curiously.

“Nope,” They all denied in unison.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded at them before looking back up at Jake. “Well, it’s Friday night, what are we doing tonight? Drinks at the Hard Deck again?”

“Sounds good to me. What about you guys,” Jake nodded at me before looking back at the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Sounds great,” Rooster said after a moment of silence, everybody else hesitantly nodding in unison.

“Awesome. Well, I’m going to head home and get changed, let’s meet back here in an hour to an hour and a half,” I questioned the group, removing myself from Jake’s side and handing his sunglasses back to him.

Everybody nodded as Jake placed another kiss on my head. “Sounds good, darling. I’ll pick you up on my way again.”

I nodded at him in acknowledgment before beginning my trek off of the beach.

---------

“Here, darlin’, you’re holding it wrong, let me help you out,” Jake murmured in my ear, placing his hands over my own and leaning over me.

“I think I know how to do it properly after the many times you’ve shown me before, cowboy,” I giggled out to him, lifting my head to look into his bright green eyes.

“Well, it never hurts to have a refresher,” He replies to me, causing me to nod sheepishly and look back at the task at hand.

“Shots, everybody,” Rooster called out, causing everybody to nod at him reluctantly.

I looked up from the pool table to nod at him as well. “I’ll take one, Roo. Can you also get me another (Y/D)?”

“Sure,” He nodded at me with a tight smile before turning and going to the bar.

Jake led me in my shot once again before we both stood from the table and watched the balls move around. Once my turn was over the next person went and I handed my pool stick to the next person. Jake leaned down towards my ear and told me he was going to help Rooster with the drinks before placing a kiss on my temple. I nodded at him with a bright grin and moved to sit at one of the high-top tables surrounding the pool table. As I sat observing the game in front of me, a very drunk Phoenix came and placed her head on my shoulder, causing me to giggle at her in amusement.

“Can I help you,” I questioned her.

“I’m so drunk,” She informed me, staring at the pool table with a blank expression.

“We’ve only been here two hours,” I said in disbelief. She remained silent and only shrugged in response. “Stop drinking then.”

“I can’t. I would lose the game if I did that, and I can’t lose. I already lost my money, I can’t lose this too. This is your fault by the way,” She groaned out to me, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about,” I questioned her.

Coyote stepped forward at that moment and placed his hands on the female aviator's shoulders, moving her away from me and towards her WSO Bob.

“Ignore Phoenix. She’s just had a little too much to drink. You know how she can be sometimes,” Coyote told me, placing his hand on my shoulder

“Uh…,” I trailed off, looking past him at my female friend with confusion still written across my face.

“Here you go, (Y/N),” Rooster said, gaining my attention.

I looked over at him to see him holding my drink up to me with a grin. I smiled at him thankfully and accepted my drink before looking behind him.

“Where’s Jake?”

“Bringing the rest of the shots,” He told me before downing a couple of gulps of his beer in his hand.

I nodded in understanding before looking back at the pool table in front of me. After a few seconds of waiting for Jake, (Y/F/S) began playing from the jukebox, causing my grin to widen and begin searching for the green-eyed aviator and finding him making his way towards me with a smug grin. I smiled at him brightly and downed my shot before standing from my seat.

“You wanna dance,” Jake questioned me smugly, holding his hand out.

My smile widened and I shook my head at him in disbelief. “You do this every time we come here.”

“Nothing wrong with having a routine,” He shrugged at me before gripping my hand tightly and pulling me over to the jukebox.

I couldn’t help but laugh as he began twirling me around in the jukebox lights before pulling me closer to him. I placed my head on his chest as his hands moved to my waist. The two of us swayed comfortably back and forth for the duration of the song, occasionally catching the gazes of the rest of the Dagger Squad who were looking over at us periodically.

“I feel like something is going on with our friends that they’re not telling us,” I murmured to Jake, questioning if he heard me or not.

“What do you mean,” Jake questioned me curiously.

“They’re acting weird,” I pointed out.

“Because the way they normally act is considered normal,” Jake said in amusement, shaking his head at me.

“To me it is,” I said shyly, looking up at him.

Jake shook his head at me again with a grin before speaking. “Alright, what are they doing that has you so concerned?”

I looked up at him in disbelief this time and scoffed. “You’re telling me you seriously can’t see it? The occasional groans when the two of us do anything, the hesitation in agreeing to come out with us tonight, the heavy drinking in our presence, Phoenix telling me that her being drunk is my fault.”

Jake stood and thought before saying his piece. “I think our friends are just weird and annoying.”

I scoffed at him and grinned before shaking my head. “Sure, Seresin. Let’s go with that.”

“Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think it might just be me, okay? They have to spend all day with me at work and then the evening with me when we hang out. Being around the same people so much can cause some annoyance,” Jake tried to reassure me.

I sighed and shook my head before reluctantly agreeing. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. I’m always right,” He grinned down at me.

“That is not true,” I giggled at him before he twirled and dipped me.

(Y/F/S) came to an end and the two of us began making our way back towards the group. I walked to the table that I left my drink on and frowned when I saw my glass empty. I looked around the group to see a guilty-looking Phoenix avoiding eye contact. I laughed in amusement and shook my head at her before looking up at Jake.

“I’m going to get another drink. It looks like a drunk Phoenix beat me to this one,” I informed him, gesturing between the female aviator and my cup.

Jake laughed as well and looked back down at me. “I can get you another one, darling.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I reassured him, grabbing my glass to take to the bar for Penny.

Jake threw his hands up in surrender and smirked at me as I rolled my eyes, reaching forward and gripping one of his hands to pull it back down to his side. Jake smiled at me in amusement and squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go, gently pushing me towards the bar. I looked back at him with a small smile before trekking over to Penny.

“Another one,” Penny questioned me in shock, looking at my empty glass.

“Yeah, I’m afraid Phoenix beat me to this one,” I said with a gentle laugh.

Penny shook her head before turning to make my drink. I chuckled in amusement and looked back at the group of aviators at the pool table. Jake looked up from his turn at the table to make eye contact with me. He winked at me before making his move, causing me to roll my eyes and move to turn back to the bar. However, I paused in my turn when I noticed a certain spectacled WSO making his way towards me at the bar.

“Hey, Bob. You doing okay,” I questioned him in concern.

Bob nodded at me with a bright grin, slightly swaying in his spot where he stopped next to me. “Yeah, I’m great.”

I nodded in agreement with him before looking over at Penny. “Hey, Pen? Water for the WSO, please.”

Penny nodded at me as Bob began to shake his head. “No, no. I don’t need any water. I’m fine.”

I nodded at his slurred words and laughed a little bit. “Bob, you’re a lightweight on your best day, I think some water would do you some good,” I told him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

Bob drunkenly stared up at me in a haze before he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re totally right. (Y/N), you’re the best. You just care about all of us so much,” He told me, taking my hand on his shoulder in his own and moving it onto the bartop.

“Well somebody has to, Bob, when none of your family is here,” I argued with him, laughing again when he gently laid his head on my shoulder.

“You’re right, again. You're always right, and you’re so smart,” He said softly, nodding his head on my shoulder and causing his glasses to go lopsided from the action.

Penny walked over to the two of us and set my drink and the water on the bartop, causing me to give her a thankful look. I released my hand from Bob’s grip and began pushing the water toward his now free hand.

“Thank you,” He murmured, lifting his head and placing a kiss on my cheek.

I lightly blushed at his actions and shook my head at him. “Don’t thank me until tomorrow morning when your hangover isn’t as bad as it could be.

Bob gave a small giggle and nodded at me in agreement before he began chugging the water. I nodded at him in encouragement and rubbed his shoulder.

--------

Jake watched his best friend walk away from him after gently nudging her in the direction of the bar. His smile was bright until his best friend Javy gained his attention.

“Hey, Hangman, you wanna join?”

Jake broke his gaze from the (Y/H/C) after he was sure she made it to the bar safely. “Yeah, sure.”

Coyote handed him a pool stick as Rooster and Payback racked the balls. He took continuous glances at his friend as he waited his turn, telling himself that he was just making sure she was safe.

“Hey, Hangman, how about you stop staring at your girlfriend and you pay attention to the game,” Natasha slurred from her spot next to Rooster.

Rooster nudged the female and gave her a small glare at her words, causing her to look up at him and shrug innocently.

“It’s not like that,” Jake argued with her.

“Oh, please. Do you honestly think we’re all stupid enough to believe that? There’s a reason we’re the best of the best,” Natasha argued back, rolling her eyes at him.

“I think that only applies to flying,” Fanboy spoke up while Coyote began scolding the woman.

“Natasha, knock it off,” Coyote said to her sternly, leaning back up from the pool table after taking his turn.

“Why? I’m just stating the obvious. You said it yourself, Jake’s in love with (Y/N) and she’s in love with him and neither of them wants to admit it,” She slurred out with a shrug.

“That’s not what’s going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake argued with her again.

“Mhm, yeah sure. You’re delusional then,” Phoenix finished off before shrugging and moving to sit with Fanboy at his table.

Jake continued to stare at the woman in deep thought until Coyote placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, man, just ignore her. You know how she can be. She’s just busting your balls,” Coyote told him.

“Yeah, no, yeah, I know. It’s just… Phoenix being Phoenix,” Jake agreed with him quietly before looking back at the game at hand.

“But on a brighter note, you gotta admit that (Y/N) is looking pretty damn good tonight,” Coyote commented, causing Jake to follow his gaze and a mesmerized smile to take over his face.

“Yeah, she does,” He breathed out, taking in the woman across the room.

Coyote looked between the two people and shook his head in amusement before landing a smack to his chest. “Your turn.”

Jake nodded at him and turned towards the pool table to take his turn. He looked up from where he was leaning over to take his turn to check on his best friend again. A smile overcame his face at the sight of her already looking over at him. Jake couldn’t help but send her a wink before making his move, causing her to roll her eyes in amusement and turn back to the bar. Jake stood back up from his position and watched the next person take their turn until Fanboy spoke up from where he was sitting with Phoenix.

“Where’d Bob go?”

All he could see was red. He looked away from his best friend long enough to take another turn at 9-ball, and when he looked back up Phoenix’s nerdy WSO was putting drunken moves on (Y/N).

He watched as Bob grabbed your hand from his shoulder as you talked and gripped it in his own. He watched as the man placed his head on your shoulder and you laughed at something he said. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he placed a kiss on your cheek. Jake had never asked Coyote to hold his beer and pool stick as fast as he did at that moment. The drunk aviator fumbled to hold the items and dropped the pool stick with a clang as Jake began to take quick strides across the Hard Deck towards the two individuals at the bar. His strides became even quicker at the site of his best friend rubbing Bob’s shoulder as he chugged a glass of water.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Baby on Board,” Jake questioned the WSO darkly.

Jake watched you turn to him with a look of utter confusion at his tone out of the corner of his eye but refused to take his eyes off the man standing in front of him. Bob slowly lowered the glass of water back down to the bar and wiped his mouth before looking over at his fellow aviator.

“Just drinking some water,” Bob informed him with a bright grin before picking the cup back up.

“Jake,” you whispered to him, trying to gain his attention.

Jake didn't remove his eyes from Bob and straightened up, taking a step between the two of you. Your confusion was furthered when he made this move, looming over Bob with a threatening demeanor.

“Jake, what the hell are you doing,” You questioned him, placing your hand on his arm and pulling him away from the clueless aviator.

Jake still refused to look away from Bob, causing you to move around the side of him and step between the two. Jake finally removed his gaze from Bob long enough to look down at you. You raised your eyebrows at him in question and watched his face soften. You sighed in slight annoyance and shook your head at him before turning around to look at Bob.

--------

“Hey, Bobby, how about you take your water and go join everybody else again, yeah,” I questioned him sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay,” Bob nodded at me with a smile, turning around and making his way back toward the group.

I watched and waited until he was greeting everybody else before turning back around and looking at Jake.

“What the hell was that,” I questioned him, looking up at him in shock and disbelief.

“What do you mean “what the hell was that?” Baby on Board was clearly making a move on you,” Jake defended looking at me in disbelief as well.

“That's not what was happening. He's drunk Jake. He doesn't know what he's doing,” I argued.

“So that's supposed to make it okay,” Jake threw at me.

“No-,” I started, only to be cut off.

“What do you have the hots for Bob or something,” he added.

“What? No,” I denied quickly, only having a second to shake off my disbelief at his words.

“So it would be completely fine if Rooster were to come over and do the same thing,” He questioned me quickly.

“Wha- Jake,” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.

“Or Coyote, or Pheonix. Maybe even Payback or Fanboy,” he began listing off, causing my frustration with him to grow.

“Jake, seriously,” I slightly whimpered.

“So it's fine for anybody to just come on over and flirt with you and touch you,” Jake snapped back.

“That's not- this isn't-,” I stuttered out, my increasing frustration with the situation making it difficult to properly form a sentence.

“Then what is it, (Y/N)? Tell me what this is. Make this make sense for me,” Jake snapped out at me.

I glared up at him and felt tears beginning to brim in my eyes when I finally snapped “You tell me, Jake. You're the one who made it into something.”

Jake finally snapped his mouth shut and took a step back from me. He remained quiet but wouldn't remove his eyes from my own.

“What, you have nothing to say now? Because you had plenty a few seconds ago,” I scoffed.

Jake continued to remain silent, now avoiding eye contact. All I could bring myself to do was nod and reach over to grab my drink from the bartop.

“Okay, well… come find me when you finally come up with an excuse for acting like a jealous boyfriend,” I told him, beginning to walk away.

However, I stopped when I felt him place his hand on my elbow.

“What if it were me,” he asked me quietly, causing me to turn and face him with obvious confusion on my face.

“What?”

“What if it were me who was acting like that with you,” he repeated louder. I remained silent as I stared at him, and Jake spoke again at my silence. “What if I didn't just act like a jealous boyfriend and I was actually a jealous boyfriend? Or just a boyfriend in general?”

My confusion changed to shock at his question. I slowly moved back to my spot in front of him and placed my drink back on the bar. I looked down at his hand and watched as it slowly moved from my elbow and down my arm to intertwine with my hand.

“Then I would tell you there's no reason to be jealous because you're the only one I have eyes for,” I told him quietly, looking up from our hands to gaze into his eyes.

I could visibly see the tension turn into relief at my words. See his shoulders relax, his eyes soften slightly, his pinched lips release into a small smile. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something in response, but quickly shut it instead.

“You can kiss me now,” I said to him in encouragement.

“Oh, thank god,” Jake said in relief before releasing my hand to cup my face in both of his, placing his lips on my own.

I released a breath of relief myself at the feeling of his lips against my own, the feeling of his hands holding my face delicately, almost as if he were afraid that I would break. My hands raised to wrap around his wrists, gently gripping them in my own and rubbing my thumbs against the delicate skin. It was a gentle kiss that turned into one filled with passion. He released my lips briefly before moving in for one more. And then one more turned into two… three… until the sound of cheering echoed across the bar, causing the two of us to pull away and look towards the sound. A bright grin broke out across my face at the sight of the rest of the Dagger Squad looking over at us and cheering as if their home team just won a championship game. I began laughing in amusement at the group before looking up at Jake, seeing him have the same reaction as me before looking back down at me.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Darling, but I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get rid of me,” Jake informed me with a faux smile of apology.

“That’s alright. I think I just might want to keep you around for a little while,” I smirked up at him before wrapping my hand around his neck to pull him into another breathtaking kiss.

---------

Meanwhile, the Dagger Squad watched their two friends with smiles on their faces and relief in their bodies at the thought of no longer having to watch the two of them dance around each other.

“It’s about time,” Coyote said, resulting in everybody letting out different noises and statements of agreement.

“So, wanna bet on when they’ll get engaged,” Rooster questioned, causing everyone to start shouting out dates and timespans.

However, this lasted for a short time due to Phoenix speaking up from her spot next to a still-drunk Bob.

“Wait, who won the original bet,” She questioned.

The group all looked around at each other curiously before looking over at the Hard Deck owner who appeared at their side with her glass jar in her hand.

“Bob won,” She stated simply.

“What,” Was the resounding answer in disbelief.

She nodded at them in amusement before answering. “He won by two weeks. Predicted it would happen by (Y/N)’s birthday.”

The group looked over at a now passed-out Bob, his head slumped down on the table and Phoenix running her hand over his head gently.

“Did he technically cheat,” Fanboy questioned his friends, pointing over at Bob.

“There’s no way he was smart enough to do that when he’s that drunk. I think it was just a lucky break,” Payback argued with him, causing Rooster and Coyote to nod in agreement with the frontseater.

Penny made her way over to the WSO and gently shook him, causing him to raise his head from the table in a haze, looking over at the bartender in confusion.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” She smirked at him, leaving the jar in front of him before walking off back to the bar.

Bob looked down at the jar in confusion before looking at all of the aviators in front of him who were looking at him in disbelief.

“Did I win?”

583 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 5 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 39 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It's not hard for Bradley to convince you to buy a formal dress. He also easily gets you to stop referring to the house as only his. But his behavior after the three of you return from the lake house might not be something you're willing to deal with.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, spanking, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Bradley had to laugh, because while the Christmas in July fake birthday party all weekend long had been great, he and Maverick were the ones stuck cleaning up the decorations.

"They really left us here, huh?"

"Yeah, Mav," Bradley replied. "They really left us here to clean up while they took Noah out for breakfast." But he didn't mind. You told him it would give him a chance to talk to his dad's best friend for a few minutes.

When Bradley started to disassemble the Christmas tree, Mav asked him, "Are you planning on going to Warlock's retirement thing?"

"Retirement thing?" Bradley asked.

"Yeah. The surprise party. I keep forgetting about it." When Bradley's brow scrunched in confusion, the other man waved his hand. "You'll get an invitation this week. Most of Top Gun is invited."

Bradley felt for a second like he'd finally reached the upper echelon of work related events, because if he did in fact manage to get an invitation to an Admiral's retirement party, it was going to be swanky. "Black tie?"

"Oh yeah," Mav replied as he packed up strand after strand of lights. "Just wear your dress whites."

But that wasn't what Bradley was concerned about. If you needed to wear a formal gown, then you'd need to use your princess credit card. And he didn't want you balking at the price of a dress. He wanted you to go out and find something you wanted to wear for the night, and he didn't want to argue with you about the money. He had plenty of it; that was the downside to losing your parents when you were young and inheriting both of their life insurance policies.

"Yeah, I can just wear my dress whites," Bradley replied as he decided perhaps you'd respond better to picking out a dress if he promised to spank you afterwards.

Once Bradley shoved the Christmas tree back into the closet, he could hear you pull the Bronco back into the driveway. Maverick handed him a beer, and he was sipping it when you walked in and headed right for him. "Daddy," you whispered, kissing his cheek. Amelia walked in holding hands with Noah, and Penny brought up the rear.

"We brought you some muffins," Penny said, shaking a white bag at Bradley.

"Thanks," he replied before leaning down closer to you. He could practically still feel the tug of your fingers in his hair as he made love to you last night, once again with his hand over your mouth. "I actually like it better when you make breakfast for us at home," he said softly, just for you. "Did you have a nice time?"

You just shrugged. "The food was good, but the coffee sucked. I miss the French vanilla coffee you bring home for me sometimes."

"In the special Princess cups?"

You practically moaned for him. "I love it when you stop and get me coffee. Do you have any idea how hard I was crushing on you when you would bring that home with you on days when I was babysitting Noah? Or when you started buying French vanilla creamer for your house for me?"

Bradley eyed everyone else out on the back deck while he took a sip of the beer he was still holding and wrapped his arm a little tighter around you. "Tell me, Princess. Remind me. How hard were you crushing on me?"

Your lips met his neck, and sure enough, your fingers went to his hair. He stood there feeling kind of smug as you kissed him and murmured, "Couldn't stop thinking about you. I was so jealous of every girl you went out with. I wanted you to touch me so badly."

Bradley backed you up against the wall and pressed his body to yours. "I knew from the beginning I was wasting my time with them when you were at home."

You let your head tip back against the wall, and he leaned down to kiss you. "Well I'm always at your house now." You hooked your fingers through his belt loops and grinned. "I can't wait to make myself a latte from your fancy coffee maker tomorrow before work. The coffee is better from your kitchen."

Bradley froze with his palm pressed to the wall next to your head and your pretty eyes on him. "Baby, it's our house now."

Your eyes fluttered closed as you whispered, "Our house," like it was your fairy tale castle instead of a Coronado bungalow. Like he really was your knight.

"Hey," he rasped, waiting until your eyes were open again. He ran his fingers along your cheek. "I love you. So fucking much. But I won't spank you ever again if you call it my house. You understand?"

"Daddy," you gasped as he pulled himself away from you and finished his beer with a smirk. Your eyes narrowed, and he should have been alarmed by your smirk that matched his. "If you don't promise to spank me when we get home tonight, I'll paint your entire house beige. And I'll stop buying salad dressing. And I'll go down to the lake right now and catch a pet fish for Noah."

"Fuck," he gasped, actually feeling a little panicky before you and he burst into laughter together. "Damn, you're good. And you know I'll give you whatever you want. But you've got to give me what I want, too. Call it our house."

You pecked his cheek and said, "Let me start packing so we can leave for our house in a few hours."

"That's more like it," he replied as he went to join everyone else on the deck.

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

You offered to drive, but Bradley told you to relax instead. You and Noah both ended up yawning fifteen minutes into the ride back to San Diego, and then you were both falling asleep. While Noah actually needed the afternoon nap so he wasn't cranky later, you just wanted to enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your face and Bradley's hand in yours.

You were using his address as your own for work, and all of your mail was being sent there. Your stuff was in virtually every room, but there were still times that it felt like his and Noah's space. The new bed helped you feel more comfortable, and obviously Bradley let you do whatever you wanted throughout the house. But he was right; it was time you started to take ownership. That was your bungalow now with the snag in the living room rug and the crack along the driveway just as much as it was his. You dozed off thinking about the internet tabs open on his phone as he rubbed your left ring finger.

Once again, Bradley had to wake you up when you arrived. He kissed you softly until your eyes opened to the afternoon sun. "We're home," he whispered.

"Our house," you mumbled as you sat up straight and stretched.

"Our house," he echoed. And then your heart melted as he asked, "Do you want to take our son inside while I carry in all of our shit?"

You smiled and turned to see that Noah was just waking up as well. "Yeah, I'll take our son inside." It was the most natural thing you could have said as you pecked Bradley's lips and climbed out onto the driveway.

"Mommy," Noah whined as you unbuckled him. "I have to pee."

"Keys!" you shouted to Bradley where he was already unloading the back of the Bronco, and he tossed them to you. As quickly as you could, you hauled Noah up to the front porch and got him into the bathroom without incident. "You feel better?" you asked, and he nodded at you.

"Yeah. Mostly because there were no bears at the lake."

You had to stifle your laughter. This child was the sweetest thing you'd ever encountered in your life. "Told you that Daddy wasn't lying about the bears. What was your favorite part of the weekend?" you asked as you helped him wash his hands.

"The worms."

Once again, you wanted to laugh, because you didn't even need to leave the backyard to find worms, let alone drive hours away to an enormous lake. "Don't tell Daddy that," you mumbled as you walked out of the bathroom to see Bradley dumping bags and boxes in the hallway.

"I think we overpacked," he said as he headed outside for more. "If we go on another family vacation, I'm supervising the packing, because now I know you can't be trusted with it."

"When we go on another family vacation," you called after him. You rolled your eyes and headed to the kitchen to start making spaghetti for dinner. Then you grinned as you set Noah up with a coloring book at the table. You kissed his soft hair and said, "Don't forget to remind your dad that you still want a dog, okay?"

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

When Bradley took a minute to actually sort through the mail from Friday, he found the invitation to Admiral Bates' retirement party. A black tie formal at the San Diego Botanic Gardens. It was in less than two weeks, and his wife wanted it to be a surprise for him. Bradley would have to get his dress whites dry cleaned before then, but it would be harder to convince you to buy a gown. If you even wanted to go with him.

At the moment, you were reading a bedtime story on Noah's floor and teaching him how to sound out the words. God, Bradley was fucking obsessed with how patient and sweet you were. Noah was snuggled up in your lap, looking at the book and saying the word castle when Bradley walked in. Wordlessly, he sat on the edge of Noah's bed and watched his son work through all the words on the page with your help.

Maybe you'd get pregnant right away. Bradley didn't know if he'd be able to handle the excitement. He could spend a weekend getting the other bedroom set up as a nursery when it was time. When Meredith was pregnant, she only took him to one ultrasound appointment, but this time, if it happened, he'd beg you to let him go to all of them. Or as many as he could if he wasn't deployed.

"Daddy?" you asked, handing Noah up to him.

Bradley was shaken from his very pleasant thoughts by his son in his arms. He smiled and kissed Noah while he yawned before turning and getting him tucked in. "I still want a dog," Noah mumbled as he rolled onto his side, and Bradley shot you a dirty look.

"What?" you asked innocently as you abruptly stood and headed for the door. You were off down the hallway, running to yours and his bedroom, but Bradley was right on your tail.

He caught you in his arms as you laughed. "You know, all you've done since you got here is completely wreck our routine," he growled next to your ear as he held you tight. "You've literally destroyed our former way of life."

"What?" you gasped, trying to look up at him.

"You heard me," he whispered, kissing your hair. "You've got Noah reading books and eating homemade meals. You've turned me into a complete fucking mess with your glossy lips and your smile and your little dresses. And you have absolutely no regard for the fact that I get an erection whenever I smell wildflowers."

You were all giggles now as he carried you to the bed. "It's your fault for being such a Daddy," you whispered with a grin.

He set you down, and you lounged back against the pillows, your dress resting high on your thighs. Then he pulled the folded up invitation out of his back pocket and handed it to you as he climbed in bed too. "You wanna go with me?" he asked as you read it.

When your eyes darted up to meet his, you whispered, "I've never been to a black tie event before."

"Then you'll need a dress. Where's your phone?"

You bit your lip. "In the kitchen."

"Use mine," he replied, unlocking it and handing it to you with a new internet tab all ready for you to start shopping. "Order some dresses. And go to the mall after work one day this week if you want."

You took his phone but hesitantly said, "If I'm only going to wear it one time, I don't even know what to buy."

"Get whatever you want, Princess," he coaxed. "Maybe something purple?"

"Maybe..." you muttered as Bradley rolled you onto your belly in the middle of the bed. He watched over your shoulder as you started scrolling through some dresses, and he was practically salivating, because they would all look incredible on you. "Purple would be pretty."

"Mmhmm," he hummed, running his hands up the backs of your thighs and pushing your dress up around your waist. You glanced back at him as he carefully started to pull your underwear down.

"What are you doing?" you asked with a little smirk as he inched your underwear down your legs and set them on the bed.

He ran his big hands back up to your ass and bent to kiss you there. He could just see a glimpse of your pretty pussy as he kissed along the top of your thigh. "Exactly what you want me to do. But only if you order a dress."

When you turned back to his phone, he ran his mustache along your perfect, soft skin. You were flawless, partly because of your age, but also because of how attractive you were. He was never going to tire of listening to your breath hitch when he touched you like his. He kneaded and palmed the globes of your ass, teasing down to your pussy with his thumbs until you whimpered.

He tasted your skin everywhere, his tongue delving into your wetness as he pushed your legs further apart. You lifted yourself up onto your knees slightly, and he let you get away with it so he could taste more of you. But when you started to grind back against his face, he stilled you with his hands.

"Did you pick out a dress yet?" he asked, licking the taste of your pussy from his mustache.

Your voice was quivering slightly. "I like this one, but it's expensive," you told him, holding up his phone. It was purple and two pieces with a fluffy Princess skirt. The top was covered in beads and would show off the tiniest bit of your waist all the way around. He was practically drooling just thinking about how much fun he'd have pushing all that fabric up to get to you.

"Order it," he groaned before literally sinking his teeth into your ass and gently biting you so you squealed for him. "Order it right now, and I'll spank you and then fuck you."

"Okay," you moaned, and a minute later, you tossed his phone next to your underwear. "I ordered it." Bradley kissed you all over your ass before collecting you in his arms and draping you over his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

And just like last time, you loved it. He could tell. Every time his palm met your perfect body, you moaned his name and rubbed yourself against his thigh. Your skin felt warm as he soothed you and then spanked you again and again. "You're a good girl when you use the credit card," he crooned before dipping two fingers inside your pussy without warning.

"Daddy!" you nearly shrieked, grinding back on his hand. He finger fucked you hard before withdrawing and then spanking you with his wet hand. The slapping noise and your reaction to him had him on the verge as he pulled you upright.

There were tears in your eyes and a soft smile on your face as you let him kiss your lips. He stroked his thumb along your cheek and whispered, "Get on your hands and knees."

You nodded and scrambled onto the bed, and he stood there and admired the sight before him. You were all round ass and soaking wet pussy as you pressed your cheek to the bedding and whined, "Bradley." He carefully unzipped his jeans, yanked them down, and thrust all the way inside you. The gentle hiss and soft groan as he filled you let him know you felt good.

He let you have a few slow strokes before he grabbed you by the hips. Then he fucked you harder as you turned your head to bury your cries. A formal dress. A baby. A wife. He could think about little else besides you at the moment as he fucked you until he unloaded inside you with your name on his lips.

Bradley knew he was a little rough as his hips continued to jerk, fucking his cum deeper. You lifted your face away from the bedding and started to crawl away from him, giving him a beautiful view of your pussy leaking his cum.

"I'm sorry, Baby," he mumbled, shaking his head and climbing into the bed next to you. "I'm sorry I was a little rough." He was about to ask you if you wanted him to get you off with his mouth or his hands when you very gently reached for his face.

"I like it when you're rough," you whispered, voice full of emotion. "I like it when you're gentle with me, too. I love everything. I love living here with you in our house." You snuggled in closer to him and let your chin rest on his shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Princess."

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

Getting back into your work routine was hard after taking a few days off and sleeping in with Bradley each morning. Dr. Kelly even joked that you looked too well rested. "How was the lake?" she asked, and you immediately thought about Bradley untying your bathing suit on the boat.

"Great," you replied as casually as you could. "Noah had the best weekend. Once we convinced him there were no bears at Big Bear Lake."

Her eyes went wide as she reached for some latex gloves and followed you toward an exam room. "Could you imagine if he actually saw one?"

You shook your head immediately. "Don't even want to think about it."

As the afternoon wore on, you realized your butt was still sore, and you were hungry for ants on logs. And this was all because you were in love with being in love with the Bradshaw boys. When you took a short break and checked your phone, there was a text from Bradley.

Bradley Bradshaw: Hey, I'll be late today. Need to take care of some things at work. Can you pick Noah up?

You let him know you'd be happy to get Noah, and then you realized that maybe you'd get to see Casey, too. You were still giddy at the prospect of annoying her when you arrived at the daycare only to find Geena, the older teacher at the front desk.

She greeted you warmly and then asked you for your ID. "I know that Casey probably knows you by now, and she's usually out here in the afternoons. But since she left a little early today, I'll just need to check your drivers license."

"No problem," you told her with a smile as you pulled it out of your wallet for her to inspect. She had you sign the sheet on the clipboard and then she vanished to get Noah. You wondered how late Bradley would be, but he never responded to your text when you asked him. Then Noah came running out, and you bent to scoop him up in your arms.

"Mommy, we painted seashells today!" he gushed, holding up a ziplock bag with his name on it filled with colorful shells.

"Noah! They're beautiful!" you told him as you waved goodbye to Geena and took him out to your car. "Do you want to turn them into a craft for Daddy when we get home?"

"Yeah!"

An hour later, you were still in your scrubs from work, making dinner while Noah glued some of the smaller shells onto a sheet of construction paper. You stopped what you were doing occasionally to help him arrange the shells to spell DADDY. "Looking good," you told him as he sounded out the letters. He loved reading, and you loved how excited he got.

You kissed his forehead and then checked your phone as it vibrated on the counter. But when you saw it was your coworker trying to plan a happy hour, you set it down and sighed. You weren't sure if you should make a plate of food for Bradley or not. He'd probably be starving when he got home, so you decided to leave a serving out on the counter for him while you and Noah ate together. But you ended up just picking at your food. You hadn't heard from Bradley in hours.

"Wanna get changed for bed?" you asked Noah after dinner. He went racing off to his bedroom and dug around in his drawer for his dinosaur pajamas. When he put the shirt on backwards, you helped him switch it around.

"I want a snack," he told you just as you heard the front door open. Your heart leapt as you and he raced into the living room. Bradley looked exhausted in his rumpled uniform, and he was carrying a light blue box in one hand.

"Hey, Bub," he said, kneeling so Noah could hug him. "You have a good day?"

"I made you a craft!"

Bradley looked up at you and smiled a little hesitantly. "Sorry I'm late," he mumbled as Noah yanked on his arm until he stood. He kissed your cheek as he was led into the kitchen, and Noah showed him the construction paper that was absolutely saturated with drying glue and seashells. "Wow! I love this! I think we need to let it dry overnight though."

"That's what Mommy said," Noah replied as Bradley set him down in one of the chairs.

"What's in the box?" you asked. He opened it up to reveal a whole variety of pastries. Cookies, cupcakes, brownies and even a donut shaped like a crown. Now you felt bad for being a little annoyed with his lack of communication all afternoon and evening.

Noah reached into the box, and Bradley snatched up the donut before he could get to it. "This one's yours."

"Thanks," you whispered before biting into it. The outside melted in your mouth, and the inside was filled with rich cream. It was delicious. Bradley leaned down to lick the corner of your mouth, and you felt your cheeks grow warm.

But once Noah was asleep, Bradley took a quick shower alone and collapsed into bed. "I'm fucking beat today," he said with an enormous yawn. "You ready for bed?"

"Yeah," you agreed as he pulled the blanket over himself, and after you took a long shower he was already asleep. So you just snuggled in next to him, and eventually you fell asleep, too.

The following morning, Bradley was still sound asleep when your alarm went off, something that never happened. "Daddy," you whispered, shaking him and kissing his cheek. "Wake up." He just grunted at you and rolled over. "Seriously?" you muttered, rolling out of bed since you could hear Noah in the bathroom. You changed into clean scrubs and skipped makeup since Noah was bugging for breakfast as soon as he saw you.

"Eggs or cereal?" you asked him once you had him dressed for the day.

"Cereal," he replied. "And can I have another cookie? From the blue box?"

"We'll see," you said, setting him up with breakfast and then going back to find Bradley half dressed in his flight suit and messing with his phone. "You're up."

His eyes met yours, and he tucked his phone in his pocket. "Yeah. Sorry, I don't know why I was so tired. Can you drop Noah off so I'm not late?"

You nodded, and he cupped your cheek in his big hand. "Thanks, Princess." Then he grabbed the travel mug of coffee you made for him and took a protein bar and a cookie. With a quick kiss to Noah's head, he was out the front door.

"Daddy had a cookie," Noah whined. "I want one, too."

You realized there was no point in arguing with him if Bradley was the one setting a bad example, so you carried the pastry box over to the table. You noticed it was from Sweet Dreams Bakery which was all the way across the city. Noah managed to snag two cookies as you stood there with the box open in a daze. Why was Bradley on the other side of San Diego yesterday? It was mostly residential over there.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath. You'd be late if you didn't get Noah in the car in the next few minutes. You quickly made yourself lunch and grabbed everything he would need before hauling him out to the car. You gently swiped cookie crumbs from his face and clothes as you buckled him in. "I'll drop you off quickly, and then Daddy will pick you up later, okay?"

Noah just nodded as he smiled. He would probably be on a sugar high within the hour, but at least he would be someone else's problem to deal with then. And you quickly learned that he would be Casey's problem to deal with when you took him inside and realized that you looked like a nightmare compared to her today. She was wearing an outfit so cute, you kind of wished you had one just like it. And she smiled maliciously at you.

"Good morning, Noah," she said sweetly as she practically tossed the clipboard in your direction. She walked him into the classroom as you signed your name and put the date and time.

"Thanks," you mumbled, handing the clipboard back to her when she reappeared.

"You know, I'm a little surprised it's you dropping him off today instead of Bradley. I mean, Lieutenant Bradshaw." She looked so smug you wanted to scream and smear her perfect makeup.

But you stood there and calmly said, "We've already been over this. I'll be dropping Noah off and picking him up as well now. Indefinitely."

"Okay," she replied, barely paying any attention to you as she opened up a light blue pastry box identical to the one in your kitchen. "You keep telling yourself that."

You swallowed hard and looked between her face and the box one more time before you turned on your heel and rushed back out to your car.

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

What's up, Daddy? And why? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 40

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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months

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Not A Verstappen: A New World {9}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Two more races closer to the end of the season and all that means is the competition is fiercer than ever and every point is a battle to win. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, assault, angst WC: 2k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten

Round Sixteen - Singapore GP

Charles was worried about you. You had barely said a word since the race ended, only congratulating your boyfriends on their great results. You were disappointed in yourself for finishing last place. Technically it was 15th place but everyone behind you had DNF’d so you were the last one to cross the finish line.

The bath did little to ease the tension embroiled in your body and you sank down beneath the surface. A wavering image of Charles filled your vision as he took a seat at the edge of the bathtub and trickled his fingers through the water. Only when your lungs began to burn did you resurface with a deep gasp for fresh air.

“You’re going to catch a cold, ma chérie,” Charles said softly as he wiped away the rivulets of water. It was almost like he knew they were mixed with your tears. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you whispered. “I think I am just going to stay in tonight, I don’t want to hold you back from celebrating. You guys did great today.”

“You are being too hard on yourself. It sucks, Lando and I know that first hand,” he chuckled, referring back to the first half of the season. “But you’ll come back stronger, I know you. You’ll be back in the points next week.”

You smiled weakly at his confidence and accepted his hand that helped pull you from the bath. “Are you willing to bet on that?”

“D'accord,” he nodded, wrapping you tightly in a towel before kissing your forehead. “I have faith in you, mon amour.”

“That makes one of us,” you joked, feeling a little better now that you were wrapped in his arms. “You should get ready to go, Lando is going to need you to carry him home tonight.”

“Mon Dieu, him and Carlos drinking together,” Charles groaned as if just realising what he was in for. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

You nodded and stepped out of the bathroom to grab your phone. “I think there is another Verstappen somewhere around here feeling sorry for himself too, and misery loves company.”

Max arrived before Lando had finished styling his hair and he came bearing gifts, a bag of mouthwatering food packed full of local dishes in one hand and a bottle of gin in the other.

“Now it’s a pity party,” you laughed as he made himself comfortable in the living room. He didn’t even bother with plates, just eating straight out of the containers while he changed the channel off MTV. “Are you planning on sharing or do I need to order my own?”

“Depends if you care what Kristian thinks,” he shrugged, pushing a container aside. He grinned knowing you couldn’t turn down the grilled kebabs slathered in a sauce that would give your PT a heart attack. “Live dangerously, zusje.”

You snorted and dropped into the seat beside him, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and the dish from the coffee table. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh, heard that before,” he teased as continued to flick through the channels until he hit the movies. “Fast X?”

“No,” Lando answered for you as he finally appeared from the bathroom with his hair perfectly styled and his shirt half unbuttoned. He explained that it was to combat the humidity in the country but you and Charles knew it was because he loved to flash his tanned and toned chest, almost as much as you liked to see it. “She’ll get pissed off that it is too unrealistic.”

“It is unrealistic,” you pointed out.

Max laughed, “It’s a movie.” But he still changed the channel. “Maverick? The original.”

“Sure,” Charles said with a grin as he pulled his shoes on, “if you want to comfort her when Goose dies.”

“You are impossible.” Max shook his head and tossed the remote on your lap. “You choose something.”

Ready to leave, Charles looked like he was going to ask you if you had changed your mind before thinking better of it. Instead he kissed you as innocently as he could manage with your brother sitting beside you. “Je t’aime.”

“Love you too, have fun.” You held your hand out to Lando and pulled him down to your height for a kiss too. “Not too much fun. I don’t want to wake up to any new CarLando rumours.”

He knew you were joking and he nipped your bottom lip for it before pulling away and holding his necklace up. “Holy trinity, baby: you, Charles and me.”

“That’s why you are missing your top three buttons,” Charles teased as he slung his arm over Lando’s shoulder. “All for the necklace and definitely not vanity.”

“Me? Vain? Never,” Lando scoffed. “I am humble, thank you very much.”

“Mhmm, so humble, mon cher,” Charles agreed sarcastically as he led them to the door before blowing you one final kiss. “Bonne nuit.”

Round Seventeen - Japan GP

Lawrence wanted to speak to you after the race finished and you hoped it was because he had some answers as to why the car was struggling. The upgrades seemed to make it worse and it was a hell of a push just to get back in the points, but you had made it like Charles assured you would.

Walking into Lance’s side of the garage, you assumed his father would be nearby. What you didn’t account for was Lance storming through the engineers after his DNF. It was a moment of wrong place at the wrong time that put you into his path and you felt the need to at least say something to him.

“Sorry, man, that was a rough one.” Hindsight was a real charmer as his green eyes narrowed with rage and you were shoved to the floor. Your ass met the hard concrete and the garage fell silent as they witnessed the attack.

Your shoulders ached where he had pushed you, but your butt would surely have bruises come morning. Calmly, you swallowed down the pain as the cameras waited for your reaction and you rose to your feet. You wiped the dust from your backside and looked at Lance. “At least I know how you injured your wrists, you’re a real fucking wanker.”

Word spread like wildfire as the footage was shared around the paddock and the world and your call to the Stewards came before Lando finished his podium celebration, the first you hadn’t been there to witness. It only added to your sour mood as you stepped into the meeting room and found an empty chair opposite Lawrence and Lance. You were by no means alone but everyone who had been asked to come as witness were all on Lawrences bank roll so you might as well have been.

The tedious hearing details were read by the Stewards, along with footage that showed the push that put you on your ass. They turned to Lance first, asking for his take on the event and whispered with his father before sitting back.

“It was an accident, I didn’t see her there.”

You scoffed under your breath but caught the look Lawrence sent you as the Steward asked you the same question. It was a look that everyone had warned you about. It was the look that drew the line in the sand of who had his support, and why wouldn’t he take his son’s side - he was a father first and a principal second. It was a look that said you would be finding another team next year if you weren’t careful.

Looking down at your hands the words tasted like ash. “Like Lance said, it was an accident.”

The steward nodded and typed some notes on his laptop. “Then the matter is settled, you will be fined €20,000.00 for unsportsmanlike behaviour.”

You lunged out of your seat and slammed your hands on the table at the ruling. “For what!”

“You saw the same evidence as I did,” he said, ignoring your outburst. “You clearly called Mr Stroll, Lance, a ‘fucking wanker’ on live tv. If that is all, we have another review about to begin.”

You left the room to see Bottas and Sargeant waiting with their team representatives and kept your head low as you passed by, feeling their curious eyes following. Lawrence kept pace with you as you left the building, Lance lagging somewhere behind, and you debated breaking into a sprint to see if the old man could keep up.

“Thank you,” Lawrence said, nearly making you trip over in surprise.

“Thank you?” you growled as you turned on him. “I saved your toddler’s career, you can do better than a fucking ‘thank you’.”

“Lance is struggling and it’s affecting him badly, but that’s no excuse for how he treated you.” Lawrence placed a hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off as you remembered the look in the meeting room. You may both be wearing the same colours but you were not on the same team.

“You can still be a good father and not protect him from everything. In fact, it might just do him a lot of good in getting his head out of his ass. Now, I am going to go and take an ice bath and you are going to pay my fine. If there’s a bonus in my bank account when I get back to the hotel, we’ll call it even.”

You left without giving him the time to respond and jogged back to hospitality, an unfortunately long distance from the FIA building. Some of the teams were already starting to pack their motorhomes down but Aston Martin was still lively, even more so when you stepped inside and saw Charles, Lando and Max looking tense amongst a group of Lance’s friends that travelled with him .

“Woah, stand down, killers,” you teased with a flippant attitude you didn’t feel. “Shouldn’t you take it out to the parking lot?”

“Too many witnesses,” Max muttered.

“I was joking, we can all relax. You three, my room. Now.” You pointed your finger to the stairs and waited for them to start walking before you followed, glaring at the rest of them. “Don’t you have more important things to do, like I don’t know, check Lance has warm milk in his sippy cup?”

“Little bitch.”

“Fils de pute, va te faire enculer!”

You blocked the stairs but Max had already grabbed Charles and held him back. “That’s an insult to his mother,” you said as the door opened and Lance arrived. “It’s not her fault her son is a sycophant, and here’s his sugar daddy now. Tighten the leash on your little friends, Lance. It’s the least you can do since you owe me.”

His lips twisted into a grimace at the reminder but he jutted his head to the other end of the motorhome and his friends followed him, their disappointment palpable. You could only imagine what he had been telling them in private to create that sort of reaction and realised why the driver had gone through so many teammates on the grid. He was insufferable.

You gently pushed on Charles’ arm when he didn’t move, he was intently watching the group leave and the staff return back to their jobs as if nothing happened. “Come on, babe, let’s just get my stuff and go home.”

“Since when are you the rational one?” Max asked as he led the way with Lando and left you to hook your arm with Charles and follow.

“Maybe I’m finally maturing.” you said with a grin that finally had the tension lifting as they all started to laugh. “Rude.”

Click here for the next part.

#charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #charles leclerc imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

Text

Knight in a Flight Suit

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female!reader

TW: swearing, violence, groping

Summary: You like to run your mouth and have no problem stepping up to a man. Why? Because you have your very own security guard.(Based off this post)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: GIF is same energy just not fresh out of the shower. Also, you know that scene of Jax in sons of anarchy where he's smoking and suddenly throws a hook that sends the guy into another dimension? That's exactly what im imagining.

Over the years you've gained a reputation for being rather..feisty. Especially with men. You didn't get to where you are in your career by taking things lying down, and you've never had a problem going toe to toe with anybody.

Sure it's gotten you in some situations a few times, namely when you square up to a man whose mother didn't teach them not to hit women. But you've never had issues with holding your own.

Then you met the dagger squad. If it wasn't your husband watching your back, it was Rooster. And if it's not Rooster it's Maverick. If not maverick, then Coyote, and so on. You basically have your own security team, so yea, you're pretty confident in your ability to talk shit to any man who looks at you the wrong way.

Usually though, Jake is the only line of defense you need. Ever since the two of you started dating three years ago, a man hasn't gotten within five feet of you. It only amplified when you got married. Jake would set fire to the world if it meant keeping you safe, and he'd do it with a smile. Tonight is a perfect example of that.

You're standing at the bar waiting for yours and Jake's beers when you feel a hand skim across your back about two inches too far south. You don't like someone touching you at all, but when the man's hand lingers on your ass and gives a light squeeze, you whip around to face him.

"Get your grimy fucking hands off of me." You smack his hand away and the man chuckles. "Looks like we've got a live one." He smirks and you see red.

You size the man up, and he takes it as you checking him out. You don't correct him, usually playing the helpless victim works out in your favor. He's got maybe 40 pounds and half a foot on you but that's never stopped you before.

He reaches out for your waist and you quickly step back to avoid him. At this point you're fairly certain you know how this will end and you're just playing along to see how far he'll take it.

The man laughs and quirks his head to the side, clearly taking it as a challenge. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's fine, I like the chase."

His grin reminds you of the Cheshire Cat and your face contorts in disgust. His smile drops when he sees your reaction and this time it's your turn to smirk. Let the games begin.

You square your shoulders and straighten up to your full height. You go to take a step forward and the man's eyes darken. "You think you can fight me? I don't give a fuck you're a woman, I'll knock your ass clean out." He laughs.

You watch him stand up straight and your eyes never leave his face, even as you have to adjust your angle to be looking up at him. Before either of you can say or do anything else, Jake is standing in front of you.

He has his back to the man, forming a physical barrier and putting a few feet of space between the two of you. "What's going on here, sweet cheeks?" His eyes are glued to yours, never even looking at the man he'd most likely be in the parking lot with in the next five minutes.

Your posture relaxes in his presence, knowing Jake just made whatever problem you were about to have his own. Your eyebrows shoot up as you gesture to the man behind him.

"Shrimp dick over there decided to grope me. When I didn't let it slide he threatened to knock me out cold." You explain, eyes still on the threat.

The man points his finger angrily in your direction, ignoring the blonde pilot. "Watch your fucking mouth."

Jake visibly tenses and you laugh at the man, fully aware of the mistake he just made. It's one thing for you to tell Jake about it, but for someone to have the balls to disrespect and threaten you in front of him?

You shake your head at the man. "Now you've really got a problem." You mock and Jake slowly turns around. The two men are about the same size, though Jake is clearly more muscular. Not that it matters, Jake would lay a 10-foot giant out on their ass for talking to you like that.

The only thing scarier than a loud angry Jake is a calm angry Jake. Every word and movement is precise and calculated. He stares the man down for a second before speaking slowly.

"Apologize." He isn't asking, he's telling. "For what?" The man laughs and Jake feels his blood boil.

"For touching my wife without her permission and then threatening to hurt her. And for swearing at a lady. Where I'm from those are justified grounds for murder." His voice is low and it sends shivers up your spine.

"And if I don't?" The man scoffs and Jake takes another step forward, now fully in the stranger's personal space. "Then I'll make you." He cracks his neck and pops his wrists and elbows. That should've been this asshole's sign to walk away.

By now you've noticed a crowd forming and the rest of the dagger squad are making their way over. You see two men heading your way and can immediately tell they're this dick's backup.

You reach forward and press a hand gently to his shoulder. "Jake." You try to get his attention but he doesn't take his eyes off his target. "I see them. I'm not worried about it." He knows he's got his own backup, and they outnumber the three men twofold.

You shake your head. "No, I know. It's Penny I'm worried about if you start a brawl in her bar." You feel Rooster and Maverick's presence and they push you behind them protectively. Phoenix interlocks her arm with yours and pulls you back further so neither of you are in the line of fire.

The three men take in their opponents and weigh their options. After a couple minutes, the one that started it looks at you. "You're lucky you have backup, bitch."

Not even a second passes before you hear a loud crack followed by a thud. Your eyes widen at the heap laying on the ground. Jake threw a right hook from hell and the man was out before his body could catch up. You're no doctor, but you'd guess his jaw is broken.

Jake doesn't even flinch at the impact, instead turning to the two remaining men. He doesn't bother to move back or put his hands up to block any attacks. Your body tingles when you realize it's because he's so confident that he doesn't even feel the need to play defense.

"Anyone else?" He smirks and the men quickly shake their heads and grab their friend to drag him out. Once the three of them are gone, the bar erupts in cheers.

Jake turns to face you and you jump up in his arms with a squeal. He laughs and you start attacking his face with kisses. You pull back after a few seconds and he smiles brightly at you.

Your eyes are filled with worry and you cup both of his cheeks. "Are you okay?"

Jake's heart swells at your concern for him and he gives you a sweet kiss. "Just fine, sweet cheeks. I've been boxing in the gym since you like to run your mouth so much." He smirks.

Your mouth drops open and you stare at him in disbelief. "You've been training to protect me?" He laughs at your reaction and slides his hands down to your ass.

"I'd do anything to protect you. Sooner or later you're going to piss off the wrong person and I need to be sure I can beat the shit out of them." He shrugs.

"Well aren't you my knight in shining armor?" You tease and Jake shakes his head. "More like knight in a flight suit." He smirks before continuing.

"Seriously though, you don't need a knight to save you. You're a badass in your own right. But I wouldn't be a good husband if I let you fight your battles alone."

You smile at the sentiment and lean in for another kiss. "I love you. Thank you." He shrugs again and kisses you on your cheek. "I love you too sweets. You don't need to thank me, it's my pleasure."

Taglist:

@drakelover78

#jake seresin #Jake seresin imagine #jake seresin top gun #Jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #protective jake #protective hangman #Jake seresin protective #hangman protective

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bussyslayer333 · 2 years

Text

There’s a honey

summary: 3 times your aunt penny sees herself and maverick in your relationship with jake and 1 time she doesn’t.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: smut, allusions to smut, swearing, cheese tbh, pet names, m*verick, jake being jake >:) MDNI 18+

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” you whisper into Jake’s ear as he drags you along a corridor towards the hangar that contains his and the dagger squad’s F-18s.

“Definitely not, but I need you to see this.” Jake chuckles from in front of you.

That does nothing to settle the nerves in your stomach as he turns abruptly, hand still nestled in yours pulling you around the corner with him.

The ‘room’ Jake has pulled you into isn’t really a room at all. It’s a large Hangar with tall ceilings that make you fear that if you speak it will echo throughout the whole building. Jake looks down at you and smiles at your awestruck face.

“Welcome to my world sweets.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesy line and walk towards the jet that has Jake’s name plastered onto the side of it.

“Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin,” you read to yourself, tracing your fingers over the black lettering.

“My two girls in one room,” Jake chuckles into your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. He strokes lightly against the material of your sundress. It’s his favourite one, it’s cream coloured and is covered in a ditsy floral pattern. He smiles as you look up at him,

“But who do you love more?” You giggle and wait for his response.

Jake clutches his chest dramatically and whines, “You’re not being fair! I can love two things equally.”

You pout playfully and jest, “Well you won’t mind sleeping in here with her then, will you?”

Jake laughs loudly and points out your bluff, “You’d never kick me out of bed, your feet would get too cold.”

You make a ‘hmph’ noise and turn on your feet to the exit of the hangar. Jake is quick on your tail and hauls you into the air forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you look up at him now face to face.

“Don’t be like that baby, you know you’re my favourite.” He simpers.

You giggle, “I know, I just like making you sweat.”

Jake squeezes your cheeks into a kissy face and pecks you on the lips, “You’re such a minx.”

Carrying you back towards his jet, he plants you down on the ground and finally reveals his plan to you.

“Jake what if i’m sick all over your plane then you hate me forever!”

“I’ll go slow for you sweetheart, I always do,” Jake winks at you.

You scoff, as he helps you into the back seat of his jet and plant yourself down in the seat. Before Jake gets the chance to sit down, you look around the interior of the jet and something catches your eye. In the cockpit there’s a few small Polaroids. Jake had always loved taking photos, he had a small Polaroid camera which he carried almost everywhere with him, and a stack of photos building up just of you. As you look to the photos you see one of them is of him and his two nieces sat in the grass on a sunny day, another of his family dog from back home and the last picture is one of you that you didn’t recognise. You’re curled into his chest with his hoodie on and you’re asleep with a pout on your face. You want to complain about the less than flattering angle but your heart flutters from the intimacy of the picture and you can’t feel it in you to be angry at all. Instead you hum slightly and reach forward to kiss Jake’s shoulder as he finally sits in the seat in front of you. He seems slightly bashful as he realises you’ve seen the pictures.

“For luck.”

You grin and decide not to prod him further. Taking off, your stomach swoops and you worry about the interior of Jake’s jet being covered in your dinner for a brief moment before your breath is taken away.

The sun is setting and Jake is flying the jet in the direction of the beach. You suddenly understand his insistence on bringing you up here. Jake thinks he’s cheesy so he doesn’t say it aloud, but whenever flight tests run late and the sun sets whilst he’s still in the sky he always thinks of you. It’s beautiful and the colours bleed together as the sun dips lower and lower and all he can think about is how much he wants to share this with you. So he did.

“Thank you for bringing me up here.” You speak into the microphone of the flight helmet you’re wearing.

“It’s my pleasure sweetheart.”

You look down and notice you’ve flown past the Hard Deck, it was a hard sight to miss and golden lights twinkle around it in the dusk. It’s mostly empty as Penny has closed it for the night, but you think you spotted the tiny blur of Maverick’s motorcycle in the parking lot.

Maverick and Penny are sat together on the benches that stand outside the Hard Deck on the beach front. Unbeknownst to you, Maverick had helped Jake plan to sneak you into base for your sunset joyride. He understood how important it was for Jake to show you the thing he loved so dearly. It was the same for him way back when with your aunt. Penny gasps as she looks up to see the jet soar by,

“Please tell me my niece isn’t up there.” She states rather than questions.

“Okay, I won’t then.” Maverick smiles into her shoulder.

She smacks him lightly but it lacks anger, Penny would never admit this but she was glad you had fallen for Jake rather than any of the others. She can’t help but smile back as she thinks about her first time up in a fighter jet with the pilot sat next to her. She wants to be worried but she knows you’re in perfectly safe hands, Jake’s charm and incredible skill always did remind her of someone who she knew so well.

You and Jake had been together for two months now but he had yet to sleep round at yours. You were apprehensive, living with your aunt and younger cousin meant a lack of privacy mostly, and said privacy was not an issue when staying at Jake’s small rented beach cottage. So it had always seemed the obvious to go to his. Neither of you had ever had an issue with this, which is why Jake was so surprised to receive a text from you half way through his day off.

baby ♥️

come to mine tonight?

pen and amelia are out btw

You and Jake had planned for you to stay at his tonight, you’d promised to cook for him and he’d been hoping to thank you in many different ways and positions. But he couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy at the prospect of being able to stay round yours. He felt a bit like his 16 year old self again when his then girlfriend would invite him round with the promise of her parents being out of town and it made him chuckle.

cowboy ❤️

sounds perfect

you want me to cook?

baby ♥️

what type of host do you think i am ?!

ofc not

cowboy ❤️

just checking sweets

As it turns out, not much cooking happened anyways. Jake had decided your attire of denim shorts and a cropped tank top were entirely too indecent for an evening in and he decided to show that to you.

“Do you know what you do to me sweets?” Jake pants into your neck. You’d managed to persuade him to make it to your bed before you defiled the kitchen counter but half your clothing had been discarded up the stairs and across the landing leading to your room.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you giggle breathlessly, whining slightly as Jake hits just the right spot. He continues on at his impressive pace, your back arching up so your chests meet and he kisses sloppily down along your neck. His hands have a tight grip on your hips whilst yours tangle in his soft hair, it’s silky and feels smooth against your fingers without his gel that usually neatens it out.

“Shit, I’m close.” Jake groans into your neck. You squirm as his pace quickens further and he reaches down to circle your clit. You gasp, high pitched sending him over the edge. He spills into the condom and slumps onto you, breathing hard.

You stroke Jake’s hair and he speaks, “I love you.”

You smile at his admission, “I love you too, baby.”

He looks up at you from where his head is resting on your chest and your heart clenches. You surge forward and he pulls upright so you can clash your lips together messily, it’s sloppy mostly but neither of you care. He cards his fingers through the mess of hair at the back of your head and you whimper against his lips. The kiss is heated as Jake guides you back down against the pillow and starts to lead his lips down your throat, sucking with pressure into your pulse point.

That’s when you hear the front door slam shut.

“Darling? Are you home?” Your aunt calls.

You hear a mumbling of voices, Amelia is with her.

“Oh god,” You whine in to Jake’s chest, embarrassed.

He chuckles, rolling off of you to lay next to you, he’s finding the situation rather amusing until he realised all his clothes are strewn across the stairs where he can hear two sets of footsteps ascending.

“Whose shirt is this?” You hear Amelia ask her mother, confused about the item of clothing that appeared quite masculine and nothing anyone in her household of women would wear.

You yell out in a panic, “Uh yeah I’m in my room! Just getting changed.”

Jake looks at you concerned, as your aunt replies from seemingly outside of your door.

“Okay, well we’ll be downstairs.”

You can practically hear her smirk through the door.

You exhale deeply and look at Jake, you both struggle to contain your giggles as you shush him, smushing your finger against his lips. Finally hearing their footsteps fade away, you begin.

“You’ve gotta leave, I’m the example for Amelia and now she’s gonna think I’m a total slut!”

Jake laughs but quietens himself when he realises you’re being serious.

“Doll, she won’t think that she loves you!”

You smile at Jake’s sweet attempt to cheer you up but continue, “Baby as sweet as you are you still need to leave, I can’t have the first time you’re round my house meeting my family be when they’ve interrupted our second round.”

Jake chuckles but nods, understanding your worry. He goes to stand and heads for the bedroom door but you stop him in his tracks,

“Where are you going?” You question.

“To get my clothes?” Jake replies, brows scrunched in confusion.

“You cant go out there! They’ll see you!” You whisper shout, “I’ll get them.”

You pull on a pair of cotton pyjama shorts and a large t shirt that you had discarded on your bedroom floor and tip toe out onto the landing where you grab Jake’s boxers. Jake’s grey shorts lay on the top few steps but his shirt had been discarded near the bottom steps with his shoes. You lean down and grab his shorts as realise you can’t see your aunt and niece anywhere near the living room that feeds off from the staircase. As hurriedly and quietly as you could, you race to get his shirt and shoes before one of them could appear to question you. With his clothes in tow, you creep back upstairs to where you had left Jake in your room.

When you step into your room, you notice Jake is no longer sat on your bed. He’s stood looking at your bookshelf browsing his eyes across the books stored there. He takes notice of the ones with the most battered spines and makes a mental note to pick them up somewhere to read. It’s a funny, albeit sweet sight, watching your 6’1 boyfriend stood stark naked looking lost in thought in front of your bookshelves.

“Here’s your clothes babe,” you speak, pulling him from his trance. He looks slightly embarrassed but recovers quickly and takes his clothes, stepping into his boxers first. As he dresses you admire him, giggling as he makes a show out of sliding his shorts up and pulling his shirt down over his chest.

Finally dressed he speaks, “You want me to go out the window, don’t you?”

You chuckle and shrug your shoulders apologetically, “I promise I’ll bring you here properly and introduce you soon.”

He smiles and walks over to kiss you, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You bask in his comment shyly and wait until he’s at your window to speak, “I love you too cowboy, text me when you get home.”

He nods and blows you a kiss before opening your window and making his careful exit. The drop isn’t too small by any means, but he lands rather gracefully with his knees bent. Jake stands up to his full height and makes eye contact with two women staring out from the kitchen window.

Penny chuckles at him, already aware that Jake was the man in her house when her and Amelia had arrived home earlier than schedule from their visit to Mav’s hangar. Amelia waves at him with a smirk on her face and Jake awkwardly waves back. He swears he hears Amelia speak to her mother,

“I knew she had someone up there with her! None of us would wear a shirt that colour!”

Jake laughs, knowing you’re going to get an earful later and saunters off towards his truck.

You’re pretty content with how your plan worked out as you lie back against your pillows, before your cousin bursts into your room squealing.

“I wanna know everything about him! Wait is he that cute pilot I always see you talking to at the Hard Deck? Oh my god he totally is!”

You let her gush, reminding yourself how excitable you were as a young teen and look up to the doorway to make eye contact with your smiling aunt.

She cant help but feel transported back to the first time your mother (her younger sister) had found out she had been seeing one of the hot shot pilots her father had always warned her of. She sends a wink your way and listens as you try to answer Amelia’s questions as family friendly as possible.

Penny’s heart clenched as she looked to your tear stained face. You and her had decided to do a rom com marathon to distract you from your emotions but clearly it hadn’t been working.

Jake had announced to you yesterday that he would be on deployment for 90 days in a weeks time. You had put on a brave face in front of him, claiming you’d miss him dearly but be okay whilst you waited back home. Once you left his place you had cried in your car firstly, then on the drive back when a song that reminded you of Jake played, and then finally into the arms of your aunt once your arrived home.

Penny knew of the difficulties of loving a naval aviator, her father had been one as well as her boyfriend and she was well aware of the heartbreak deployment often brought. Over the years she had learnt ways to deal with how she felt and was no longer affected in such a way. However, watching you live through the stages she once had to made her slightly woeful as well.

Hearing you sniffle, Penny decides to speak up, “You shouldn’t ignore him sweetheart, you’ll regret it when he’s gone.”

You look up at her, unimpressed with what is actually good advice. You sigh weakly and let her continue.

“Tell him how you feel,” you interrupt her quickly, “I don’t want him to be feel bad for me! He has his own worries he shouldn’t have to think for me.”

It’s now Penny’s turn to sigh at your words, “You and I both know Jake, and we know that he does that anyway. You’re just worrying him, more by avoiding him.”

You look up from where you’ve been playing with your hands and make eye contact with her. You know she’s right but it tastes so bitter to admit it. She smiles slowly as she sees you come to realisation. You stand abruptly from the couch and walk to the door, picking up your keys from the table as you go.

“Where are you going?” Penny questions, already knowing the answer.

You roll you eyes playfully at her, “don’t make me say it,” you pout before admitting your planned route.

But as you open the door, you spot something you weren’t expecting. Jake is pacing your porch and looks up at the sound of you opening the door.

He smiles sheepishly at you, “I was about to knock, I promise.”

You lock eyes with Jake and the tears come flowing out, “I’m sorry for ignoring you! I’m scared to be without you for so long but I didn’t want you to waste time feeling bad about me!”

Jake pulls you into his arms and rests his head above yours, “No time spent thinking about you is wasted, sweets.”

You giggle at how he manages to be cheesy even when you’re both so upset. You press your lips to his, savouring in how it feels wary that you won’t be able to do that for the next three months. You feels tears start to brim in your eyes again but Jake flicks them away.

“I don’t want my best girl to be upset, please baby.” Jake speaks.

You give him a watery smile and he laughs. He doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to be away from you for the next few months when he can’t even let you go from the hug.

“I’ll write to you every day,” you promise him.

“Oh, I’m counting on it doll.” Jake smirks into your hair.

Jake regrets his words when a week into his deployment he receives a thick letter written in your delicate handwriting. He makes the mistake of opening it whilst sat on the bunks next to Coyote and begs him to never mention the fact that he has now seen a few more risquée Polaroids of you than he had bargained for that morning.

Jake had finally allowed himself to be excited about seeing you again now that he only had one day left of his deployment. Your letters and photos could only do so much to appease how much he needed to see you and hold you in real life. You had invaded his mind wholly for the past three months and it sent his heart racing slightly at thought of finally getting to see you again.

Knowing you would have your boyfriend back tomorrow had you slightly giddy as you wiped down the bar tops at the Hard Deck, whistling a song Jake had played to you many times before.

As you wiped you thought about having him all to yourself again, having his strong hands on your hips and his lips on your mouth but also him resting his head on your chest or letting you play with his hair.

As you continued to whistle, your aunt pushes her way through the double doors which lead to the kitchen and storage area of the Hard Deck. She smiles as she notices your significant change in demeanour from the months past and speaks up.

“Ready to close up for the night?” She questions.

“Absolutely.” You smile at her.

Penny would have loved to tease you for your lovesick behaviour, but she too was elated for tomorrow. Maverick had been sent away as well, to oversee any training taking place and although she would like to think she has a slight amount more emotional maturity due to her age she was still as giddy as you were on the inside.

You link arms with her as you walk to the car both now humming the tune to the last song that had been playing on the jukebox before you closed up for the night.

Waiting with the rest of the families for the aviators to arrive back feels surreal. It’s a warm day and your wearing Jake’s favourite sundress with some wedges that are verging on uncomfortable but look great with the outfit. You cant quite believe you’re going to see him again.

You’re looking across at the sea of family members, and make eye contact with Bob’s girlfriend. She smiles at you and waves before turning back to the matured woman she’s stood next to who you can only assume is Bob’s mother. You turn back to Penny and squeeze her hand as you see the first of the aviators leave the ship.

They come out in streams of khaki uniforms and you can’t help but smile at thought of seeing Jake in his own uniform. It always fit slightly too tightly over his biceps, making it mostly uncomfortable for him but extremely worth it for you.

Maverick is one of the first to leave the carrier along with the rest of the higher ranked officers. He makes his way quickly over to Penny but not before smiling politely at you. You move to the side slightly to give them their own space as well as giving you a better view of the people still leaving the carrier.

You let anxiety eat at your stomach a little the longer it takes for you to spot Jake. You wonder if he’ll even be excited to see you, if he’s grown tired of you over the months he’s been away. But all those worries are swept away as you spot Jake leaving the carrier walking next to Rooster and Coyote. Bob is slightly ahead of them and beelines for his girlfriend. You watch as Jake scans the crowd of people for you before you lock eyes.

He zones in on you and suddenly has urgency in his steps. Jake realises he has definitely knocked over some younger pilots and at least one small child in his march to get to you but he can’t find it in him to care. Not when his girlfriend is looking radiant as ever and waiting for him after three months.

Tired of waiting on him you run as fast as your wedges allow to make up for the distance and jump into his arms. You pepper kisses all over his face and finally land one on his lips, you go to pull away but he holds you there and deepens the kiss. You allow him to for a moment but you’re still aware of your surroundings so you pull away and rest your forehead against his.

“I missed you.” You speak against his lips.

You can feel him smiling.

“I missed you more.”

You mock sigh exasperatedly and roll your eyes, “God, do you have to make everything a competition?”

He laughs like he hasn’t in months, and pulls you in for a kiss again. You signal for him to let you down but he keeps you in his grip as you make you way over to Maverick and Penny who had just been watching you.

Penny watches you and your boyfriend giggle as he spins you around, holding the edge of your dress tight to your body so it doesn’t fly up. She squeezes Mav’s hand as she remembers how her and Pete could never reunite in such ways. Her father had been strict about her not fraternising with the pilots, let alone cocksure ones like Maverick, so she had never truly been able to settle down with him.

It delights her to see you like this with Jake because it makes her realise that you aren’t her and Maverick. You’re completely different, in the best way possible.

Jake finally sets you down so you can all greet each other. He nods to Maverick and hugs Penny before returning to your side, hoping he never has to leave it again.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

a/n: my sincerest apologies bc it took me so long to get this out but i hope u enjoy bc i love jake and his gf they are my babes,, also this was inspired by someone who reblogged one of my other jake fics and was talking about how they thought penny definitely saw jake as a young mav and i was like omg so true and immediately started writing this, so whoever you are make yourself known !!!!

also had to use charlie bc he is so boyfriend

pls reblog and comment and tell me what u think !!!

requests are open :p

ty for reading :)

- honey <333

5K notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 20 days

Text

I'm Not Sorry

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, dry humping, semi-public hookup

Inspired by This Text Post: i should be riding some nerd's thigh while he gropes all over my body & tells me i'm the girl of his dreams

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: i've been struggling to finish fics lately but i saw that text post a couple days ago, knew i wanted to write about it for Bob, and then BAM this all fell outta me tonight. unbeta'd to the max but Bob Floyd deserves to fuck so time was of the essence 😌

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

If you wanted to be dramatic, you could say that you and Bob had been playing a very coy game of cat and mouse for months. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. A majority of the time that you spent with each other was work-related. It was usually work related, and there was almost always other people around. The closest the two of you got to having time alone was when all of you went out together and everyone else got distracted with pool or darts or each other. So while it might’ve been months according to the calendar, it wasn’t really quite that drastic.

Still, though, you tried to make the most out of the time that the two of you got to have.

It was easy, especially at first, to get a rise out of him, to get his cheeks to flush pink, to get him tripping over his words. A seemingly accidental touch, a well-timed innuendo or wink—that’s all it really took. You didn’t say anything about it but you noticed each time his gaze would break, eyes flickering down from yours to your mouth anytime your teeth dragged along your bottom lip. It never took much with him and for a while you just chalked it up to the fact that he was sweet and shy and a little awkward, that anyone flirting with him like that would get that reaction out of him. It wasn’t until you saw him perfectly unfazed at The Hard Deck one night when a girl at the bar was all but falling into his lap that you realized it wasn’t a Bob thing. It was a you thing. Once you realized that, it was all bets off.

There had been more than one occasion when thanks to your subtly wandering hands Bob nearly spat his drink out across the bar or dropped the bottle from his hand completely. You were able to keep a straight face and play it off, and every now and then Bob was able to recover with some grace, but there had been a time or two when he’d caught a few odd looks from the rest of the crew. It was easy enough to wave them off and they’d let it drop, but the second his focus was back on you, you could tell that he was working overtime to stay on the right side of self-control. All you could do was smile and try to carry on like nothing had happened.

Truthfully, it had gotten to a point where you had almost just resigned yourself to this being what it was going to be like with you and Bob. You were trying to accept that this limbo, this knowing that you wanted him and he wanted you but neither of you really found the time to do much of anything about it, was as good as it was going to get. A never-ending chase, a game with no winners.

“Alright,” you said as you hopped off your barstool, “I gotta head out.”

“Why?” Rooster asked, sounding as though he couldn’t fathom why anyone would want or need to be anywhere else on a Friday night.

You laughed as you dug your wallet out, taking out a few bills to close out your tab and then some. “Some of us have shit to do in the morning, Bradshaw.”

He laughed and gave you a mock disbelieving look. “I don’t think so.”

Raising your eyebrows, you turned your head to face him. “You wanna close out my tab, then? Sounds like you might wanna close out my tab.”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Forget it—see you Monday.”

You laughed a little harder at that. “That’s what I thought.”

It didn’t seem like your departure disturbed the flow too much, everyone falling back into their previous conversations as you made your way to the bar to square up your tab. You didn’t even bother looking back as you made your way to the door of the bar. By the time your feet hit the blacktop of the parking lot, you were already fishing your keys out of your bag.

Once you were a few strides away from the bar and the clamor of noise coming from inside died down, all you heard was the sound of your own footsteps, and the ocean not too far off. It was peaceful until you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. The sound alone wouldn’t usually have been strange. Someone else deciding to leave the bar at the same time as you wasn’t a weird occurrence. What made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, however, was the fact that the footsteps were getting quicker and closer. You felt your jaw clenching, positioning your keys between your fingers the way you’d always been taught. You were only a few steps away from your car now but you still found yourself taking a deep breath, getting ready to turn around and see whoever it was that was behind you. You were about to turn and brace for impact when you heard Bob’s voice calling out your name, a little breathless, and very rushed.

Turning around and seeing him, some of the tension disappeared. You huffed, shoulders dropping. “Jesus, Bob.”

There was an apologetic smile on his face as he realized what had just happened. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you slipped your keys so that you were holding them in your hand normally again. You managed to laugh at the potential worst case scenario versus the reality of the situation. “Another step without saying my name and I think we both would’ve been sorry.”

He stepped in a little closer to you as he nodded towards your car. “Just wanted to walk you to your car.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you turned and started the last few steps across the lot with him. “You know, walking me out to my car is much more chivalrous and much less creepy when you tell me you’re going to do it.”

There was a smirk on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’ll have to remember that next time.”

Silence took over the space between you, and while it was comfortable enough, you couldn’t help but to feel like there was more to it, something in the air. Hitting the unlock button on your keys, the lights of your car flashed once. You looked at Bob, then at your car, and then back to Bob. “Well,” you chuckled, “thank you for the company on this long, treacherous journey.” You reached for the handle on the driver’s door. “Hope we can do it aga—”

Bob cut your sentence short when he placed one hand on top of yours on the door handle, keeping you from opening it. Before you could jump to another sentence and ask him what he was doing, his other hand was pressing against the small of your back and pulling you into him so that he could press his lips to yours in a kiss that was intense and nervous all at once.

It lasted just long enough for you to realize what was happening and how good it felt and then he pulled away. Going off the way his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them, he was just as surprised at himself as you were. Despite the shock all over his face, he didn’t take his hand off your back, although the one that was covering yours on the door dropped back to his side.

“Sor—I’m sorry,” he finally forced out. “I’m…” he trailed off as he looked at you, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

Another second passed in heavy silence, and when you didn’t try to break free of him, didn’t try to push him away, he let the rest of his sentence die on the tip of his tongue as he kissed you again. You could feel the way that he was more confident this time, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the thin fabric of your tank top as he pressed you against him.

You brought your hands up so that they were resting in the crook of where his neck met his shoulder. One slid up, thumb beneath his jaw as he deepened the kiss. It was all you could do to not ball up the cotton of his t-shirt in your fist, put it in a vice grip so that he couldn’t try to get away. However once you felt the way his tongue pushed into your mouth, and the way he used his body to pin you between him and the side of the car, it became clear that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He had one hand still on your back, one hand braced against the side of your car. It was the first time it ever seemed like he was crowding you, like he was trying to make you seem small. You didn’t mind it. With the way he was kissing you, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t mind anything.

The next time the two of you came up for air, he didn’t pull far enough away for you to really see him. You were just far enough apart for your lips not to be touching, but you could still feel the side of his nose pressed against yours. You could still feel his breath against your skin. The two of you were pressed so tight against each other that you could’ve sworn you could feel the way his heart was about to beat clean out of his chest.

“Shit,” the word fell from his lips in a whisper, followed by an equally soft laugh. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “I’m…I’m not sorry.”

You laughed at that, couldn’t help yourself do to anything but. “Good.” Your hand slid from his jaw to the back of his head. “You shouldn’t be.” Kissing him again, you let your teeth pull lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled away. “Only thing you need to be sorry for is taking so long.”

He smiled and shook his head. If the lighting had been better you were sure that you would see a blush all across his cheeks and down his neck. You’d have to settle for the mental image of it. “Didn’t see you chasing me down across any parking lots for a kiss before this either,” he rebutted with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

The humor died down out of his voice as he said, “You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

You nodded, noses brushing against each other. The bridge of his glasses bumped against your forehead for a split second in the process. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Your bodies were pressed together so tightly that you felt it when he sucked in a quick breath. There were a million things that he wanted to say to you and he couldn’t make himself say any of them in that moment. He had his hand on your back and the taste of your kiss on his lips and yet none of the things he’d been thinking over the passing months were making it out.

The feeling of your fingers toying with the longer strands of his hair centered him enough for him to smile as he said, “At least you know that. I—oh—” He fumbled his way out of the sentence when he felt your lips on his neck.

“Bob?” you said, lips brushing against the column of his throat as you spoke.

“Y-yeah?” he stammered out, and you could feel the vibrations against your lips as he talked.

Taking one hand off of him, you reached and pulled on the handle to the back door of your car. You kissed him again, pushing both of you off the side of the car in the process. “Get in the car.”

He was far enough away that you could see the shocked look on his face. “What?”

You placed your hands on his sides, switching your positions so that he was closer to the car than you. “Car.” You kissed him. “Back seat.” Another kiss. “Now.”

“Now?” He looked around the parking lot. Full of cars but completely devoid of people. “Here?”

You laughed as you pushed him farther back, causing him to duck slightly as he went backwards into the car. “Preferably, yeah.”

“I don’t—whoa,” he fell back across your back seat, managing to brace himself on his forearms.

You shimmied in after him. Pulling the door shut behind you, you climbed on top of him, one leg between his, the other pinned between the outside of his leg and the back seat. It was close quarters, but you weren’t exactly looking to put any distance between the two of you.

Your hands landed on his shoulders, fingers curling over the curve of them as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Whatever reservations he’d had about your current location disappeared almost immediately once your lips caught his. His hands were on your hips for a moment. You could feel the way he tightened his grip even through the denim of your shorts. Your lips and his met over and over, each reconnection making him a little bolder.

He managed to get his thoughts together just enough to pry one hand from your hip so that he could reach up and take his glasses off. He all but tossed them up and onto the center console between the driver and passenger seats. You were smiling and about to make a comment about the action but you didn’t get the chance. He brought his hand back to you, starting off on the soft, exposed skin of your thigh. His touch was soft at first, but quickly started to change. His fingers dragged up your leg before slipping past the bottom hem of your shorts.

Your pleased gasp of surprise when you felt the pads of his fingertips over the lace of your panties was quickly smothered as he pulled your lips back to his again. His grip on your ass tightened, pushing you down harder onto his thigh and causing you to moan into his mouth.

For a split second you couldn’t believe it. All this time and Bob hadn’t been able to make a move, couldn’t believe that you wanted to fool around in the back seat of your car—that same man was now grinding you down against his thigh in a way that had you wet and clenching around nothing.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, muttering out a quiet, needy, “Fuck,” as you continued to move along the top of his leg.

When you pulled back enough to see him, you saw the way that he was watching the movement of your hips. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, felt like he physically couldn’t tear himself away from the sight. His hold on you loosened as you found your own rhythm. A tiny whimper slipped past your lips, the sound involuntary as you savored the friction. The sound made his gaze snap back up to your face, and when he saw the want and desperation etched into your expression he thought that he was going to melt into a puddle right there on your back seat. What a way to go.

He pulled you back down into another kiss, your bodies flush practically from head to toe. Even as you continued to move against his thigh, you could feel the way he was shifting slightly, trying to get in the most comfortable position as he felt himself growing more and more aroused with each passing second. He didn’t let you pull away, though, didn’t let you put any distance between you. With you pinning his leg to the seat, Bob let his hands wander up underneath he fabric of your shirt. Suddenly it was like you felt his hands everywhere—your back, your sides, your chest. He slipped them down past the waistband of your shorts and underwear, fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in a way that with everything else had your legs starting to shake.

Bob could feel it, too. He could feel the increased sense of urgency in your movements, the way you were chasing after something and you almost had it. He was half-expecting to be woken up and find out that this was all just a dream. But not even his dreams had been this good, felt this good.

He dragged his lips off of yours, trailing them along your jaw instead. He left a string of sloppy, desperate kisses in his wake until his lips were beside your ear. One of his hands crept up your back, palm and fingertips scorching your skin in the best way.

“I meant it, you know,” his whisper came out lower than you’d ever heard, a tiny hint of a tremor to it, “when I said I’ve been wanting this—you.” He kissed below your ear, feeling the shaky breath you let out at that, at his words. “But even when I thought about it,” he kissed your jaw, “or dreamed about you,” he kissed your neck, “it wasn’t—shit—it wasn’t anything compared to this.”

Fighting the urge to bury yourself into the crook of his neck at his words, you pulled your head back. You cupped his jaw roughly in one hand and crashed your lips against his. His arms slithered around you and wrapped you tightly against him. He could still feel the slight shake in your legs.

“Bob—”

He stole another quick kiss. “I’d wait all over again for this.”

You could hear it in his voice how genuine he was being. You tried not to let yourself get distracted by his still-wandering hands, or his erection that you could still feel through his jeans. You tried to start your sentence again. “Bob, I—”

“Let me—”

“Come home with me,” you cut him off right back this time, deciding to just get to the point of what you were trying to say.

Confusion flashed across his face for a quick moment. “What?”

“Come back to my place.”

“I thought—”

“I wanna do this.” You sat up enough so that you could drag your fingertips down over his chest and stomach, even doing it over the fabric of his shirt had him starting to squirm with want. “But I’d rather do it somewhere where I don’t have to worry about smacking my head off the ceiling if I sit up all the way.”

The statement got both of you to laugh. “That’s fair.” He paused, a smirk on his face as he said, “Car was your idea, though.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m feeling a little impatient. Sue me.”

He pulled you into another kiss, one that every time you thought it was over he’d pull you back in all over again. As much as you wanted to get him back to your apartment and laid out on your bed, you also knew that you’d spend as much time as he wanted to doing exactly what you were doing right now. Anything to keep him this close now that you had him there.

When he released you from the kiss, he looked up at you with that same smile, that same slightly dazed look to in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn’t really believe it either. You couldn’t believe that any of it was happening at all, but you were also having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Bob Floyd, the same man who could barely make eye contact with you at the bar the first time you all went out together, was the same man who looked like he was about to try and strategize how to best make use of your back seat so he wouldn’t have to wait to get back to your apartment.

“I live less than ten minutes from here,” you said, already knowing what he was going to say.

His hands moved around to the front of you, fingers just barely curled over into the front of your waistband. You pretended not to notice the way he was toying with the button of your shorts. “Thought you had things to do tomorrow?”

You laughed, leaning in and kissing him. “I still do. Now they’re just,” you ran your hand lightly over the crotch of his jeans, enough pressure to get him to buck into you, “different things.” You giggled quietly at the purposeful breath he sucked in. Reaching over, you grabbed his glasses for him. “C’mon. You can ride shotgun.”

He propped himself up by his forearms again as you untangled yourself from him. “What if—”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you stopped his sentence short. “Little late to get shy now.”

He smiled, face starting to turn red. “Right.”

The only thing that passed between the two of you were knowing looks and soft laughter as you scrambled out and into the front seats of the car. It wasn’t until you were pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that you spoke up again, trying not to be too distracted by Bob’s hand creeping higher and higher up on your thigh.

“So,” you looked over at him for a second before returning your attention to the road, “you dreamt about me?”

His head dropped back against the headrest and you couldn’t help but to laugh at his faux exasperation. He gave your thigh a squeeze. You were expecting a joke, one of the witty little comebacks that he had a way of finding in the right moments, but instead he let himself be serious as he said, “Yeah, I did.”

The three words hung in the air between you, and you felt the butterflies that you’d been too busy to feel before in the heat and the rush of everything else. You could feel the way that Bob was looking at you while you looked at the road.

“How much longer?” he asked.

You laughed, sparing him a glance. “Six minutes, tops.”

He nodded, fingertips grazing up and down your thigh, goosebumps breaking out over your skin despite how warm your car was with its still-fogged-up windows. “Six minutes.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd #robert floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x you #x reader #x reader fic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc #bob floyd fanfiction

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multifan2022 · 1 year

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Used to be yours

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Without asking his arms wrapped around you, yours easily coming around to hold him just as tightly. For some reason seeing him left out on the field waiting for someone who couldn't show up made you understand him on a level that so many other people couldn't. You ask him to go to dinner with you and the two of you spent the entire night talking about your parents and his. Expressing how grateful you both were to have someone in your life for you, it was your grandma for him, his Uncle Maverick. Maverick was due back the next day meaning that when Bradley practically begged you to meet him you couldn't turn it down.

The next morning when Bradley opened the door to the home he and Maverick were temporarily sharing, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. He had never been more sure than in that moment that his parents were truly looking out for him as his eyes took in the Hawaiian style dress sundress you were wearing. You mistook his awed look though, quickly explaining how your parents got married in Hawaii and how after your mother passed away your father took to wearing Hawaiian shirts to try and honor her memory. And how even after he passed away you tried to continue that tradition.

Bradley stopped you with a soft smile even though inside he wanted to strangle whoever it was that made you feel so self-conscious about it. Gently he grabbed your hand and guided you up to his makeshift room pulling out a Hawaiian shirt that belonged to his dad and telling you a very similar story. It was the start of what would become a fairytale-like story.

Three months later you were storming from Seresin family ranch and sprinting for your car. Positive pregnancy test fisted in your grip as Jacob's words replayed over and over in your mind. "No son of mine will be drug down by a bastard child." "You're just a sad little girl who's looking for a family" "He will never love you". After Jacob SR demanded he pay for an abortion you stormed out. His mother caught up to you on the porch, promising your child a trust fund and enough money to care for a baby for 18 years if you just swore to never tell Jake.

You were suddenly thankful that your plane ticket was for the same day. Bradley was coming home the next day and Mav had asked you to pick him up from the docks. You were beyond excited to see him. Your love for Jake had faded every single day as you talked to Bradley. You were terrified to tell him though that there was a baby growing in you. One that was put there by someone who went out of his way to make Bradley's life harder. Someone who used the fact that Bradley's parents had passed away as a reason why he wasn't good enough to be a pilot.

The next day your phone rang as this giant ship got closer and closer to the dock. Bradley had been staring at his phone for 10 minutes waiting to get enough service to call. He just wanted to know when the soonest he would be able to see you. He could hear the deep sadness and worry in your voice when you said you were waiting on the dock for him. He thought nothing could dampen the pure excitement he felt knowing that someone was waiting for him, especially someone he loved as much as he loves you. But he was proved wrong when he saw how puffy and red your eyes were. How your bottom lip quivered the closer he got. The only thought then was what he would do to make you feel better.

And that's what he did for the last 10 years every decision Bradley Bradshaw has ever made has been made with the utmost care. When he adamantly wanted nothing more than to continue dating you. When he said he wanted to be there for the birth of your daughter. Another year later when he got out on one knee and asked you to become his wife. When two years later he begged you to let him adopt and make her officially a Bradshaw. And potentially the biggest decision he's ever made to date, was made last week when Cyclone pulled all of the aviators and officially made them the dagger Squad. Everyone besides Maverick, Cyclone and Phoenix were shocked to hear the mustache man say that he needed to call and talk to his wife. The guys all sat around talking about how none of them had even known Bradshaw was married.

Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes when Phoenix told him in a very hard voice that it wasn't any of his business. Jake never understood because no matter how hard he tried to reconcile and create a friendship with Rooster the man just constantly blew him off. It didn't matter how many times he apologized for bringing up his dad. Or for screaming nepotism when he found out that Bradley had grown up with Ice and Mav. Bradley held strong that he couldn't forgive some of the things the man had said. But Jake didn't know Bradley wouldn't forgive him for the words that he spoke to you.

Bradley remembers the devastation on your face when you called Jake to tell him you were pregnant. It had taken Maverick and himself two months to talk you into it. And it was something Bradley hated remembering, hates that he had a hand in. Because he will never forget the look on your face when Jake told you he couldn't be friends with you anymore. That being friends with a young, single mother was bad for not only his family's reputation but his own. That he didn't want his higher up thinking he hung out with people who made bad choices. He hung up before you ever got the chance to tell him who the baby belonged to.

Two months later an envelope arrived in the mail, inside were papers that broke your heart even more. Paperwork signed by Jake stating that he wanted nothing to do with any potential child. Bank account information as well as trust fund information for your daughter from his parents with a letter from his mother apologizing that they could have nothing to do with you or her.

You never spoke to or of Hangman again, until your husband called and told you he had a possible permanent assignment. Told you the details and who would be there. You wanted to say no. Wanted to tell Bradley to come back to his previous team, back to the small home you had made for yourselves. But you could hear the underlying excitement in his voice. Could see the hope shining in his eyes even over Face-time. You knew being close to Mav and Ice would bring him joy. Being at TOPGUN made him feel closer to his father. Would give him an opportunity to become an instructor. You knew that you couldn't allow your past to destroy something beautiful in your future. Even if you knew that Rooster wouldn't complain a single time if you said you couldn't do it. But for him… you could do anything.

Even at that something was seeing Hangman. And yes that was what you were going to call him because the person you remembered as Jake was the first person you had ever fallen in love with, a boy from your childhood who would do anything and everything to make you smile. Hangman was the guy who left you at his Tapout ceremony. The guy who left when he found out you were pregnant. The guy who had hung you out to dry and never looked back. While you were ridiculously grateful that he had saved your husband and surrogate father in law, you couldn't forgive him for everything else.

That's why now Bradley was standing on the tarmac nervous as hell. Because he hadn't seen you or his daughter in months and of course Hangman had to be here with the group. Claiming he wanted to see everyone's happy reunions. Bradley had sent you a text stating that the blond was here, he just hoped you would see it before you got off the plane. As he watched the tires bounce on the ground he got a text.

BeautifulGirl: Hen wants Mav to catch her off the stairs like always. Catch me BradBrad?

BradBrad: Always Beautiful. Be the last off for me. ❤️

He leaned over and showed the text messages to Maverick who chuckled and shook his head even though deep down he absolutely loved having a tradition with his granddaughter. So together they stood and waited watching as Phoenix's girlfriend came rushing down the stairs screaming for her. As Bob's little sister brought over his dog, and as Payback reunited with his two daughters and wife before moving forward.

Bradley turned back looking at the group, happy to find that Coyote and Hangman were being introduced to Payback's wife so they were too busy to watch. As soon as they reached the bottom of the plane stairs a beautiful little blonde girl with sea-foam green eyes threw herself off the second to last step and into the arms of her Grandpa, both of them laughing. Pete gently stepped out of the way so that you could throw your arms and legs around your husband pressing your lips together all in pretty much one movement. He wrapped one arm under your butt, holding you too him while the other wrapped around your neck. It was a feeling neither of you would ever get used to or tired of.

Being together, touching each other in any way was addictive. The two if you were always touching. Whether it was holding hands or Bradley's hand resting on your back or you sitting on his lap, you were always touching when you were together. Next to you you guys could hear Mav and Henley giggling. Bradley smiled whispering to you "I'm chop liver to her when Poppas here" you nodded brushing your fingers down his cheek. Mavs voice broke the little bubble around the two of you. "How about we go get some lunch and ice cream then my little Henny can stay the night."

Hangman watched from the other side of the tarmac as Rooster and Maverick each carried someone away from the plane and towards Bradley's Bronco. There was something in the back of his mind and in his heart screaming to get a closer look. To know who this little girl was in Mavericks arms. To just see the face of the woman that was so tightly held against Bradley. But as he went to take a step forward Phoenix laid a hand on his chest and gave him a hard look while shaking her head. When he looked back up the little family was already loading into the Bronco.

PART 2

#bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #topgun maverick #top gun maverick

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tongue-like-a-razor · 8 months

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There Are Limits

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!Reader

Summary: Maverick's new female friend brings out your spiteful nature. And seeing you with a new man is harder on Maverick than he'd like to admit.

CW: age gap, student/instructor dynamic, swearing, drinking, and did someone say bring on the angst?? Because you know I can deliver..

WC: 4000+

This is Part 5 in the There Are Rules universe.

“Captain?”

Maverick looks up when you step into his office. He’s sitting on the edge of his desk and there’s a woman standing between his legs, so close, she might as well be in his lap. When you enter, she steps away half-heartedly, looking slightly annoyed that her conversation with Maverick has been cut short.

Maverick’s cheeky grin falters when he sees you, and he clears his throat as he hops off his desk.

“Lieutenant,” he says. “How can I help you?”

You stare at him in shock, not sure how to react. The last several weeks haven’t been easy; in fact, you and Maverick have barely spoken since your mutual decision to terminate your romantic relationship. But seeing him with another woman is a whole new level of difficult.

“Lieutenant?” he says, lifting his eyebrows worriedly. He doesn’t bother to introduce his companion, with whom he is obviously very familiar.

You swallow around the lump in your throat and exhale slowly. Maverick isn’t the only expert in self-regulation. It’s a skill that’s proven quite useful, if not invaluable, during your tenure in the navy. And, although it’s always come naturally to you, recent events have seen that you receive plenty of practice. “Sir,” you say promptly, saluting Maverick in an entirely professional manner, as if you’ve never even had his tongue down your throat. “It’s about next week’s squadron dinner,” you say.

It's true that you meant to speak about the dinner – about how you were planning on skipping it to avoid an ever vigilant Cyclone who's been watching both you and Maverick like a hawk. Moreover, the less you see of Maverick these days, the better.

But the scene before you has severely shifted the trajectory of your plans. And the next thing that comes out of your mouth is hideously unrehearsed. “I was wondering if we were allowed a plus one,” you blurt out, your eyes darting pointedly between Maverick and his female friend.

Maverick stares at you mutely, as though it’s taking him a minute to process your request. “You want to bring a date?” he then asks, his eyes widening and subsequently narrowing in a matter of milliseconds.

You feel like you might sweat right through your uniform with the way he’s staring you down, but you stand your ground defiantly. “If I may,” you respond unemotionally; the way you’d address any other superior.

Maverick nods slowly, glancing at the woman who’s currently rifling through some papers on his desk. You ignore how comfortable she seems in his office, like she’s been here plenty of times before. “I don’t see that being a problem,” he says. “Who’s the lucky…?” His voice trails off and he lets out a nervous laugh. “Should be fun,” he finishes, giving you a wide, artificial-looking grin.

You smile back at him. “I agree.”

…

“Boyfriend,” Maverick says, his eyebrows shooting upward for a moment before he checks himself and pulls at the collar of his jacket as if it’s suddenly an uncomfortable fit.

You try not to acknowledge his reaction and instead introduce your date to some of your squadron mates. You’re not sure why Sam has decided to put a label on your relationship at this exact moment, but you’re not going to argue semantics in front of the one person you wouldn’t mind buying into this spectacle.

“It’s new,” you hear Sam blurt out, presumably cowering under the scrutiny of Maverick’s gaze.

You make a point not to look Maverick in the eye because you’re still upset about walking in on him last week when he was clearly otherwise engaged. But when Sam walks ahead, busy conversing with the other aviators, you feel a finger brush gently over the back of your hand. You pull both hands behind your back and square your shoulders to face your instructor.

Maverick is watching you solemnly. “This is good,” he whispers, although the tilt of his eyebrows says otherwise.

You can’t express how much it hurts to hear him referring to this situation as good, and yet, you nod, grinning rigidly. “It is,” you say, pausing to give him an opportunity to come clean about his own blossoming relationship.

But Maverick does nothing of the sort. Maverick is as unreadable as ever.

You’re about to walk away when the woman you’d seen in Maverick’s office appears from behind him. She nudges him on the shoulder to get his attention and shoots him a brilliant smile.

Maverick gives her a polite nod before turning back to you. “Lieutenant,” he says. “I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine.”

The woman beams at you and holds out her hand. “I’m Charlie,” she says.

You shake her hand and return her smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Charlie,” you say. “Are you an instructor at Top Gun as well?”

She chuckles, throwing Maverick a flirty glance. “Not for a while,” she responds, looking back at you. “Not since this one made me rethink that particular career choice.”

Maverick drops his head with a laugh. “Sorry about that, by the way,” he says.

Charlie shakes her head. “Don’t be,” she replies. “It all worked out.”

Maverick nods, looking at her affectionately. “Charlie went on to bigger and better things. And by bigger, I mean she went on to design rockets.”

“Wow,” you say, both impressed and jealous of the woman who seems to hold a special place in Maverick’s heart.

“And look at how far you’ve come,” Charlie says to Maverick.

Maverick grimaces. “I’m right back where I started,” he remarks. “Full circle.”

“You’re right back where you’re meant to be,” she says earnestly. “And I’m proud of you.”

Maverick shifts his weight uncomfortably, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops of his jeans. “We better grab a seat before Cyclone has an aneurysm,” he says.

You turn to see Cyclone watching the three of you with an irked expression from the table reserved for your group at the restaurant. He shakes his head ominously as you make your way toward the others. When the three of you arrive at the table, he mutters, “How gracious of you to join us.”

Maverick glances at him with a slight smirk but doesn’t say a word while Charlie lets out a small chuckle, taking her place beside Maverick at the table.

You lower yourself into the seat next to Sam, right across from Maverick and Charlie. Cyclone is sitting to Maverick’s right, aggressively perusing the menu.

“I hear the fish tacos are good here,” Maverick notes when Cyclone lays his menu down on the table in frustration.

Cyclone gives him a sour look. “Not a fish person,” he responds tartly.

You stifle a laugh, exchanging glances with Charlie, who is also snickering.

“There are non-fish tacos as well,” Maverick points out.

Cyclone nods grumpily. “Yes, I saw the entire section devoted to the various tacos they serve. I can read.”

Maverick bites the side of his lip to contain a grin. “Enchiladas,” he continues quietly, as if to himself. “Quesadillas, chiles rellenos…”

“I want a burger,” Cyclone declares, flipping through the menu anew.

Maverick shoots you an amused glance. “Let’s start with drinks,” he suggests, sliding a draft beer menu in front of his superior.

“Good idea.” Cyclone sighs theatrically, rolling his shoulders to loosen some tension.

“Hey, d’you want to share a couple of dishes?” Sam offers, tapping you on the arm to get your attention.

You glance over at him quickly, having almost forgotten he was there. “Sure.” You nod enthusiastically, even though it’s the last thing you would ever think to do.

Once all the drinks and food arrive, and you and Sam awkwardly try to allocate your respective shares of the dinner, Charlie pipes in. “How long have you two been together?” she asks, gesturing at you and Sam.

“It’s new,” Sam, the self-proclaimed boyfriend who has yet to work up the nerve to even kiss you, reiterates quickly while you chew on a quesadilla.

You wipe your mouth with a napkin before confirming, “Not long.”

Maverick’s eyes rest on you for a split second before he returns his attention to the ceviche in his bowl.

Meanwhile, Cyclone regards you with a dubious expression. “Where did you meet?” he asks gruffly.

“Through some friends,” Sam responds excitedly, as though it’s the most fascinating fact of the evening.

You take another bite of quesadilla and avoid looking directly at any of the three people sitting before you.

But Maverick cuts the silence short. “Is it serious?” he asks, and both you and Cyclone shoot him threatening glances. Charlie looks up from her plate, trying to interpret yours and Cyclone’s abrupt reactions.

Sam, meanwhile, is smiling blissfully to himself as he pokes at the contents of his fajita before rolling it up. “I’d say it has some potential of getting there,” he says.

You nearly choke on a pepper upon seeing Maverick’s expression transform from mild amusement to unequivocal displeasure. His jaw muscles contract as he forcefully stabs at his dinner with a fork.

Sam clears his throat nervously and speaks in a noticeably higher pitch, “Of course, I can’t predict the future.”

You roll your eyes and put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “It’s none of his business, anyway,” you say.

To Maverick’s left, you see Charlie’s jaw drop slightly in her shock at your informal – bordering on impolite – addition to the conversation with your superior officer.

Cyclone chuckles quietly, finally appeased by your interaction with Maverick. “At last, something we can all agree on.”

Maverick smiles politely. “I was just making small talk,” he says, laying his fork down without finishing his meal.

Cyclone gives him a flat look and leans forward to address his friend. “Charlie, how long are you in town?”

While Charlie and Cyclone engage in conversation, Maverick catches your gaze inquisitively, as if he’s trying to figure you out. His eyes are so penetrating, you feel like he can see right through you. He must know that your relationship with Sam isn’t even close to being serious. He must know that you’re probably going to break it off that very evening. He must know you only brought him because you were hurt and you wanted to hurt him back. Because Maverick has reconnected with someone of significance and is involved in something meaningful.

You tear your gaze away from him irritably. You’re about done letting Maverick stir up your emotions without so much as saying a word. You’re about done caring for a man who’s done nothing but cause you pain.

You rise from your seat and excuse yourself, heading for the bathroom near the back of the restaurant. No sooner do you break through the door, than you collapse onto the nearest sink and break down. You don’t even care that your mascara is leaving streaks down your cheeks, or that the tears are clouding your vision. You don’t even care that your hands are gripping the basin so tightly that your fingers are cramping.

You glance up at your reflection in the mirror; pathetic. How did you let yourself fall this far? This hard? This fast? You run the tap and dab some cool water on your skin, patting at the trails of makeup that your crying spell has left behind.

You take a deep breath, staring at your glistening face with a scowl, preparing yourself for the remainder of the evening. But just as you make your way for the door, it opens, and Maverick enters.

You jerk back in surprise, despite his history of showing up in places he isn’t supposed to be.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You panic. He knows. He knows that you ran away to cry. And this makes you furious. “I’m fine,” you respond curtly. “You shouldn’t be in here,” you add, gesturing to the door behind him.

He pulls his eyebrows together like he isn’t quite convinced. “You’re not okay,” he says.

You grit your teeth in anger. He can’t just ignore you for weeks and then try to comfort you like he gives a shit about your feelings. “Why are you here, Maverick?”

Maverick presses his lips into a thin line and breathes out steadily. “I was worried about you.”

You scoff resentfully. “Don’t be.”

Maverick sighs and lowers his head. “I can’t help it.”

You attempt to keep your voice even despite all the shaking your body is doing. “You better go, Captain,” you say spitefully. “Before Cyclone finds us. Or Charlie.”

He watches you soberly. “You asked me to stay,” he reminds you.

You stare wistfully into his eyes. He’s right, of course. You’re the reason he’s still here. Your relationship with him has been strained but civil since the incident on the carrier. There has been a mutual effort to avoid unnecessary encounters, and an unspoken understanding that, while romance is out of the question, it will take some time for both of you to move on completely. Obviously, you did not expect him to move on by moving in on someone new. Or old, in the case of Charlie, because the two of them go way back, apparently.

You struggle to remember why you’d wanted this – wanted him to stay despite knowing that nothing would ever come of it. In the moment, you were desperate not to lose him. But watching him carry on as though nothing ever happened between the two of you is absolute torture. You’d rather not witness just how little you actually meant to him.

You shrug. “Error in judgement, I guess,” you respond coldly, echoing his words from the night Cyclone had caught the two of you in the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

Maverick nods. “Been there,” he says pensively before turning to walk out. Just before he does, however, he glances back at you and adds, “I’ll wait out here until you’re ready.”

“Don’t,” you say.

Maverick meets your gaze with a weary look. “I’m not leaving.”

“What’s Cyclone going to think when the two of us come back together from the bathroom?”

Maverick shrugs. “I have no control over what Cyclone thinks.”

“What’s Charlie going to think?”

Maverick pauses in the doorway. “What’s Sam going to think?”

You roll your eyes. “He won’t even notice.”

Maverick watches you quietly for a moment, then says. “I doubt that very much.”

You lick your lips as a fresh round of tears threatens to obscure your eyesight. The fact that Sam isn’t here to check on you but Maverick is has not escaped you. “Go, please,” you whisper.

Maverick wavers slightly on the spot and, after a brief interval, holds his hand out to you. You glance down at it hesitantly as your stomach flips violently at the though of touching him again. Clearly, you’re angry with him, but the part of you that loves him always wins.

Slowly, you step forward and place your hand in his. He pulls you in the moment you make contact, wrapping his arms around you as he releases the door to the bathroom. He lets his face drop, pressing his mouth to the top of your head.

After a prolonged – mostly silent – embrace, you detach yourself from his arms and give him a nod. “I’m ready,” you say.

Maverick nods back without a word and then opens the door for you.

…

It’s past midnight when you hear the knocking, followed by some irregular footsteps and a string of quiet – but still audible – curse words. After a moment of hesitation, you unlock the door.

“Captain?”

Maverick is standing in the corridor before you, although calling it ‘standing’ might be a bit of a stretch. He’s not exactly stable on his feet.

You glance up and down the hallway to make sure that no one has seen him. “What are you doing here?”

Maverick is watching you with a squared jaw, as though he means to keep the purpose of his visit to himself. He breathes his frustration out through his nose before veering right into the doorframe.

“Sir!” you exclaim, grabbing a hold of his arm like you might have any chance of keeping him upright were he to topple over.

“Sir?” he murmurs, and you could smell the liquor on his breath. He catches your gaze now that you’re closer and, in another moment, his eyes begin to slip down your face before they finally close. “I told you,” he says, his mouth twitching as he grimaces. He pushes past you into the room.

You quickly close the door behind him, hoping nobody heard the commotion. Praying he’ll have the sense to keep his voice down.

But Maverick, it seems, isn’t nearly as concerned as you are about disturbing your neighbors. He rounds on you with a resentful expression and shakes his head. “I knew this would happen.”

You blink at him in confusion. “What?” you say. “What happened?”

“You happened,” Maverick says defeatedly. He takes a step toward you, his eyes flitting between yours as if he’s checking to see if you can relate.

But it’s a weekday and you had just drifted off to sleep when he’d started drumming on your door, so you’re not exactly following. You furrow your eyebrows. “I happened to what?” you ask.

Maverick watches you miserably, taking a step back now, as though he can’t decide which is worse: being closer or farther away from the source of all his troubles. “You two make a fine pair,” he manages to say, but not without a break in his voice.

You purse your lips, looking away from him. You’re not going to comfort a man who’s standing in his own way. After all, it was his decision not to be with you. Besides, Maverick brought his own date to the dinner, so you aren’t feeling overly sympathetic.

Maverick tears his gaze away from you and smacks a hand over his face. “What am I doing here, Lieutenant?”

It’s a fair question, to be sure; one you wouldn’t mind knowing the answer to, yourself. But you’re more immediately concerned about the consequences of Maverick’s unsanctioned visit to your quarters than the reasons behind it. “Maverick, it’s the middle of the night,” you say, shocked at how firm you sound despite the tremor travelling through you.

Maverick’s eyebrows converge and he shifts his jaw as his eyes well up with tears. “Yeah,” he whispers, nodding slowly.

“And you’re drunk,” you add when he takes a step toward you again.

“I am,” he admits, still in a whisper.

You ignore the stutter of your heart as he nears. “You can’t be here,” you warn.

He watches you wretchedly, giving his head a subtle shake. “I can’t,” he agrees.

You can hardly breathe when he finally stops before you, his soft eyes trailing down your face. His hand is coasting up the side of your neck before you even know what’s happening, and by the time his fingertips are hovering at the nape of your neck, you’re so lost in his gaze, it’s a miracle you’re still standing. Unsurprisingly, you aren’t in the state of mind to respond.

“I lied,” he says with a slight rasp despite the effort he’s exerting to steady his voice. “I think he’s terrible for you.”

You blink at him, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“Sam,” he says. “He’s not the one.”

You pride yourself on your patience and understanding, even in trying circumstances; you’re not an unreasonable person by any means. But even you have limits. And, tonight, Maverick is testing every last one. “Are you the one?”

Maverick stares at you, his eyes swimming. Slowly, he shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”

You breathe out forcefully, astonished at his audacity. There is only so much you can let this man get away with. “Then, respectfully, shut the fuck up,” you hiss, pushing past him aggressively. You whip around sharply and point at the door. “Get out.”

…

The following afternoon in the briefing room, Maverick reviews the morning's flight footage with barely a look in your direction. He doesn’t even comment on the impulsive maneuver you pulled that left your partner confused and resulted in an uncoordinated hustle to regain momentum, costing your team valuable seconds that could have ended in tragedy were it a real dogfight.

Once the briefing is finished and the room begins to clear out, Maverick approaches your desk. “Can I have a minute, Lieutenant?” he asks in a subdued sort of tone.

You glance up at him grudgingly but don’t respond until the last of the pilots have left the room. “Is it about the Cobra Climb?” you ask monotonously.

“What?” He quirks his head in confusion before briefly closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No,” he says, and then adds, more emphatically, “No.” He lets out a heavy sigh and lifts a leg over the chair in front of your desk, sitting on it backwards to face you. “I want to apologize to you.”

You groan. “Not again.”

Maverick steals a glance at the door, ensuring that the two of you are still alone, and then he lays a hand over yours on the desk. “I’m sorry about last night. Showing up at your place – less than sober.” Maverick lowers his gaze with a disappointed frown. “I – I had no right. I have no right,” he says, looking back up at you. His eyes flit between yours imploringly, burdened with all the guilt he carries.

“Stop,” you say assertively, pulling your hand out from under his grasp. You can’t listen to another word. This entire relationship has been a series of failures in self-control, each one a ‘mistake’ in Maverick’s eyes for which he subsequently has taken full responsibility. You rise from your seat and gather your things mutely.

“Y/N,” he says hoarsely, standing up after you.

You shake your head. “I don’t need another apology, sir,” you say bitterly. “I just need some space.”

Maverick nods. “Of course,” he says. “And I’ve been denying you that – and I apologize –”

“I said, stop!” you exclaim, shooting him a threatening look.

Maverick trails you as you make your way to the door – the exact opposite of your request. You rush out of the briefing room, and he follows, not far behind. Thankfully, there’s no one in the hallway because he’s behaving irrationally, to say the least. He reaches for your arm and pulls you around to face him.

You gulp, staggering the moment you meet his gaze, the aching in his eyes undermining your determination.

“Let me finish,” he pleads in a whisper.

You exhale sharply. “Finish, then.”

Maverick slowly lets his hand fall away from your arm now that you’re no longer a flight risk and, this alone, hurts, because you want him to hold you forever. Even when you’re fuming, even when you’re yelling, even when you hate him.

“Seeing you,” he says slowly, evenly, as though he’s trying to compose himself as he’s talking. He takes a breath and tries again. “With another man –”

“Come on.” You scoff, even though your heart is already buzzing at the thrill of making Maverick jealous. “You can’t expect me to not date –”

“I don’t expect that,” he says. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

You think about the way you felt seeing him with Charlie and you’re instantly sorry for causing him that much pain, regardless of whether it was intentional or not.

“I was angry,” he says quietly. “At myself, mostly…” he trails off, moving his head to the side and lowering his gaze. “But also at you. And I blamed you for the way you make me feel.” He pulls his bottom lip under his teeth and grimaces. “But that’s not your fault,” he whispers shakily. “That’s on me.”

You bite into your lip to keep it steady. You wish you could look away because the devastation on his face is undoing you, but you aren’t strong enough. You take a step back and take a shuddering breath. “Please don’t look at me like that,” you say, your voice unsteady. You can barely get a grasp on his words because you’re too absorbed in his eyes.

Maverick’s eyebrows lift inward, as if your request has him concerned – or confused. “Like what?”

You roll your eyes – as if he doesn’t know like what. “Like that!” you respond as he takes a step toward you in alarm. “Just stop!” You sigh in frustration, unable to articulate your thoughts because his eyes are still commanding all of your attention.

“Where am I supposed to look?” he asks, agitated.

“It’s the way you’re looking at me,” you explain angrily.

“Are you listening to what I’m saying?” he asks urgently. “I need you to hear me.”

You shut your eyes and shake your head. “Enough, Maverick!” you exclaim.

Maverick stills immediately, watching you uneasily.

“You’ve been tiptoeing around me, treating me like I’m injured or in need of assistance –”

“I’m not –”

“You are and I’m tired of it. Why didn’t you call me out on the Cobra Climb?”

Maverick stares at you like you’re unhinged. “You want me to reprimand you?”

You let out a heavy sigh. “If you’re going to be my instructor – just my instructor – then instruct me. It was an idiot move and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“You were distracted –”

“You’re making excuses for me! Why?”

“Don’t question my teaching methods,” Maverick says in a low voice.

You scoff, shaking your head. “You’re afraid of confrontation so you’ve been avoiding me. You didn’t even think to give me a heads up about Charlie!”

Maverick narrows his eyes. “What about Charlie?”

“Whatever,” you grumble. “Just don’t stand here and proclaim that my bringing a date to the squadron dinner somehow threw you for a loop.”

Maverick studies you silently so you boldly meet his gaze. His jaw is set but there’s a tenderness in his eyes that nearly draws you in.

“Stop coddling me,” you say firmly.

You watch his Adam’s apple rise then fall as he gulps down whatever retort he decides to keep to himself. His jaw muscles contract once more as his eyes settle over your face.

You tear your gaze away. “And quit looking at me like you…” You sigh, unsure how to describe the inimitable combination of exasperation and affection you see in his eyes.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice rising in volume. You can tell that he’s becoming increasingly defensive as your blows continue.

You’re annoyed that he’s annoyed and you blurt the words out before you can stop yourself. “Like you’re in love with me or –”

“I CAN’T LOOK AT YOU ANY OTHER WAY!” he roars.

You freeze. Stunned by the volume of his voice. Stunned by the emphatic delivery. Stunned at his words.

He turns away in a huff, placing one hand on his hip while the other is balled up into a fist at his mouth.

“This was your idea,” you say quietly as he slowly turns back to look at you. You aren’t the one who refuses to even try, and he needs to acknowledge that.

“I know,” he whispers, his eyes brimming with tears.

You clench your teeth to keep your mouth from trembling. “Then stop,” you implore.

He shakes his head, pulling his lips into a rigid line. “I don’t know how.”

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callsignhoney · 2 years

Text

the captain’s daughter ➤

pairing ➤ robert “bob” floyd x fem!mitchell!reader

genre ➤ fluff, allusions to smut

summary ➤ an unlikely candidate has you breaking your dad (and brother’s) “no pilots” policy

———

Your entrance to the Hard Deck was announced with a wave of cheers from the squadron of naval aviators tucked against the far wall. You laughed and gave a show of waving at them before scurrying over. You passed out hellos and high fives to them all before reaching your—in every way except by blood—brother.

“Hey, short stack,” Rooster greeted you when you gave him a side hug.

“Hey, beanpole,” you returned.

“What’s going on, Miss Mitchell?” Fanboy said.

“It’s a pleasure to see you as always,” Payback told you with a grin.

“God, don’t I know it.”

“Looking good, Y/N,” Hangman said, taking a step away from the pool game to greet you with his usual line.

“I’m sure you say that to all the pretty girls you meet,” you recited back at him.

“You know I only have eyes for you, baby.”

You laughed when he winked at you and shoved him back toward the pool table. “Piss off.”

This was the usual greeting you got from your father’s students. It all started back on that first day they all had landed on North Island and took to the Hard Deck to meet each other prior to training. You’d grown up on navy bases and eventually found your way to working a job near Top Gun, often putting you in the path of your father and brother on their numerous orders.

You’d been out with your dad that night when Hangman approached you. Maverick, your father, had quickly cut in and Hangman took to taking the piss out on him for the rest of the night, a decision he regretted almost immediately as he learned who your dad was the next day for training.

Once the trainees all got more comfortable with your dad, and got to know you in turn, the flirting from them all became a running joke to ruffle your dad’s feathers. No matter how well he knew that it was all a big joke to get him riled up, it still worked. Sometimes even Rooster butted in to draw a line, but you just found it hilarious and started giving your own flirty remarks back.

“How long is this going to go on for?” your dad asked, coming up behind you to pass out drinks to the crew. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Hi, sweetie.”

“Hi, dad.”

“You know we’re just playing, Maverick,” Fanboy said.

“Do I know that, Fanboy? Do I?” your dad sighed.

“Mav, trust me, if any of them actually tried anything, I’d cut their dick off before you even heard about it,” Rooster spoke up.

Several of the men winced at that. Fanboy took a long drink from his cup.

“What if I want a shot with Miss Mitchell, here?” Phoenix spoke up, sending you an award winning smile.

“You may be the one I approve of the most, but it still is not going to happen,” Maverick said. “No Navy fighter pilots. It’s my one dating rule I’ve ever given Y/N.”

“Who do you approve of the least?” Phoenix asked.

“Hangman, obviously,” Rooster answered for him.

Maverick gave a small look of agreement but said nothing.

The table laughed.

You found a seat beside Fanboy. To your other side, Bob. Your heart beat a little faster as you sent him a small smile. He and Phoenix had been deployed on a mission that had them away for a few weeks. Their safe arrival back home was the reason you all were out drinking tonight.

The night went on and the flirting only reared its head a sparse few times. No one noticed how your and Bob’s hands were intertwined under the table, or how his grip tightened anytime one of the others made a flirtatious comment toward you.

———

“I can tell them to stop, you know,” you told Bob later, tucked against each other in the afterglow.

He tilted his head to look up at you, resting on your chest. You ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes, almost purring with the small, blissful sound he made.

“I can tell them to stop the flirting and the jokes if it bothers you,” you said. “Tell them I’m getting tired of it, or whatever.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said.

You gave him a look.

“I’m serious,” he laughed.

“Right. And that wasn’t jealous sex.”

“That was I haven’t seen you in three weeks because of a mission and I missed you very very much sex.”

“Hm.”

“I’m serious!”

“You’d tell me if it bothered you, right?”

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I promise.”

He kissed your collarbone to assure you. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and fell into quiet again, holding each other as you settled down from the high you’d given one another. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched his scalp. He smoothed his palms over your body, tracing small shapes into your skin.

You didn’t think you could ever need anything more than this. You wished you could freeze this moment and stay in it forever.

You drifted off to sleep and woke up still tangled together. It felt like you were unable to get enough of him on a normal day when he came home to you every night; he’d been away for three weeks and you felt insatiable, not even able to whine about missing him to anyone lest your dad or brother found out about you two.

If you had to guess, you’d say Bob felt the same way based on how he rolled on top of you the moment he woke up. The kiss was slow and messy and left you panting, desperate for more. You could do little more than steady your breathing as he disappeared under the blankets and wrapped his strong arms around your thighs to keep you in place.

Your head had just started to cloud over when you were abruptly snapped out of your lust-filled haze.

“Y/N! Ever heard of checking your phone?”

You inhaled sharply. “Bradley.”

You grabbed Bob’s shoulders and wrenched him out from under the covers.

“What? Are you okay?” he asked.

You slapped a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. “My brother’s here.”

Bob’s eyes widened and he repeated back what you said into the muffle of your hand.

“Y/N? Hello?” Rooster called.

You and Bob stared at each other as you tried to come up with what to do or something to say. Eventually, you managed out, “Hang on, I’m getting dressed!” and practically shoved Bob out of bed, both of you scrambling to find clothes to put on.

“Mav and I texted you last night about breakfast today. Are you coming?”

“Uh, sure!” you said, hopping around to pull your pants on.

“Did you not see our texts? In the group chat.”

You chucked Bob’s shirt at him. “No, I didn’t.”

“Did you pass out after getting home last night? Couldn’t bother checking your phone?”

You glanced at Bob, flushing as you remembered last night. “Something like that.”

Bob turned to look at you helplessly, fully dressed despite his shirt being on backwards. You scanned the room then zeroed in on the windows.

“We are going to tell them about us eventually, right?” Bob asked in a whisper as you pushed him across the room.

“Yes, eventually,” you said, wrenching the window open.

“Why not just tell him now?”

You looked at him like he was insane. “This is not the introduction you want to have with my brother as my boyfriend. Eventually, yes, we’ll tell him and my dad but not like this, and not right now.”

You started hitting him to get him to climb out the window. “Okay, okay!”

You reminded yourself not get distracted by the way his muscles moved in his arms as he maneuvered himself out the window. You glanced back at the door to your bedroom but it had remained safely shut during the whole endeavor.

“Rooster won’t actually cut my dick off when we tell him we’re dating, right?” Bob asked, hanging onto the windowsill.

You blinked at him. “I’ll see you later.”

“Y/N—“

You leaned down to kiss him. “Go, or I close the window on your fingers.”

“Alright.” He pulled himself enough to kiss you once more. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

He dropped down from your window and you shut it quickly after him.

———

BONUS!

“Hey, Bob!” Hangman called out. “I’ve got a question for ya.”

Bob had his hands busy in the underbelly of one of the jets he and a few others were working on. Neck craned to see what he was doing, he looked around one of his extended arms to spot Hangman coming over to him. Phoenix trailed after him, looking mildly irritated by his existence as usual.

“Uh, yeah?” Bob said, keeping his hand aloft in the jet he was working on.

“Who gave you the hickey?”

Something clunked inside the plane as Bob lost hold of it. “W—what?”

Hangman gestured to Bob’s neck where a bruise was on full display. “That little thing. Where’d you get it?”

“I—I didn’t— it’s nothing.”

Bob’s hands were still caught up and busy when Hangman spotted something else incriminating. He tugged the neck of Bob’s shirt down just enough to reveal the bruise that had blossomed on his collarbone.

“Hey!” Bob protested, shouldering Hangman’s hand away as best he could.

“That seems like a little more than nothing,” Hangman said with a shit-eating grin.

“Leave him alone,” Phoenix spoke up, elbowing Hangman back to put herself between him and her WSO.

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not curious, too.”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna harass him about it.”

“Who was it, Bob? I mean, the only girls you ever talk to are Phoenix, Halo, and Y/N.”

Maybe he was reading too far into it, or maybe the way Bob swallowed at the sound of your name and glanced around the hangar wasn’t just a coincidence.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Hangman said slowly. “Would you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bob said, too quickly.

“Holy shit,” Hangman said, “you’re fucking Mav’s daughter.”

“I’m not,” Bob argued, trying to force out a laugh.

“You actually are,” Hangman said, and he sounded almost genuinely impressed. “You’re fucking the captain’s daughter.”

“Okay, no,” Bob argued, finally getting his hands free from the jet. “I’m not… seeing Y/N. I’m not. I don’t know where you got that from, but we are just friends. Hardly that. Acquaintances, really.”

“I’m starting to think you might be right, Hangman,” Phoenix said.

Hangman looked at her in shock.

“Don’t get used to hearing that.”

“You’re siding with him?” Bob said incredulously. “Because I… hit myself in the neck. With a book. Hard.”

“You talk too much when you’re trying to lie,” Phoenix told him. “It’s your tell.”

“I am not dating Y/N, okay?” Bob said, forcing out laughter that just sounded pained.

“Tell Y/N to film it when you two finally decide to tell Rooster and Mav,” Hangman said. “I would pay to see their reactions. And what they do to you afterward.”

Sure of himself, Hangman gave a laugh and walked away. Phoenix hung back for a moment and patted her back seater on the arm.

“Good for you, Floyd,” she said. “Just try to keep your dick attached to the rest of you.”

#top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert floyd #top gun bob #top gun bob x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #top gun fic #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction

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sometimes-i-write-good · 1 year

Text

Where I’m From

Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]

3.6k | Jake Seresin could handle lots of things. He was the only naval aviator of his time to have a confirmed kill - two, actually. He kept forgetting about that second one. It was newly under his belt, and, considering the circumstances surrounding it, he hadn’t felt too inclined to brag about it. Still, the point remained. Jake could carry the weight of taking a life, of saving a life, and of putting his life in harms way.

What he could not handle was the weeping girl in front of him, brushing away tears on their first date.

===

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

CW: swearing, kissing, mentions of past relationships (neglect)

Author’s Note: Is Jake slightly ooc? Yes. I just wholeheartedly believe this man would be a gentleman on a date. Also, soft!Jake >>>>>>> || cross-posted on Ao3

Part Two

===

“You’re early.” You said, opening the door wider and waving him in once you realized it was Hangman (a story you were hoping to pry out of him on your date tonight) standing across the threshold. “I’m almost done, I promise. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize, sugar.” Something about the careless way he slung around terms of endearment like that heated your cheeks.

Jake stepped in with that same easy grin he was wearing when he’d asked you out. You look good, but I think you’d look even better sitting across from me at dinner tonight. Cocky, arrogant. A toothpick rolling back and forth between his teeth. Not your type at all, but it had been so long since you last dated someone.

So, when the blond in a military uniform slid into the booth across from you this afternoon at lunch you agreed. Without a single care for all the alarm bells ringing and desperate reminders from your subconscious that all men sucked.

And now you were standing in front of him with a half-zipped dress, half done hair, and nerves that made your hands shake so badly it was hard to finish anything at all. “Give me 5 minutes?”

Jake nodded, then, as though remembering why he’d gotten here so early to begin with, he moved his hand from behind his back and presented a small bouquet of flowers to you. Simple and sweet. “These are yours, darlin’.”

The accent brought you back to reality. Tied you down to earth and kept you from tearing up. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m a gentleman, mostly,” Jake said, “so tell me where I can find a vase and I’ll get this set up. You go get ready.”

“Under the sink.” You waved your hand off in the general direction of the kitchen eyes still a bit too wide in shock. Someone had given you flowers. A complete stranger had given you flowers.

The stranger made towards where you vaguely gestured to but came halting to a stop shortly after. “Problem, doll?” He asked, turning back towards you with slight concern. Warranted concern, really, seeing that the noise that just escaped you made you sound like you’d been stabbed in the side.

“I’m sorry-”

“You need to stop apologizing.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You ignored the look he shot you. “I- just… can you take your shoes off? Please?”

An easy smile crossed onto his face. More human than those prideful grins his flirting game so heavily relied on before. “Yes, I can do that.” Jake laughed, but it wasn’t rude or condescending. A kind-hearted, ‘I am so glad that’s all the problem was’ kind of laugh. “Go get ready so I can make everyone in that restaurant jealous that I’m takin’ the most beautiful lady out on a date.”

There wasn’t much arguing with that. You’d tried to come up with something witty to say to him as you finished getting ready, but every time you thought of what Jake had said to you your heart would beat a little faster and your head would spin. It was pointless. You could hardly remember your name when you looked his square in the face. If you were to actually stare into those green eyes of his you’d surely melt into the floor. Exactly what happened when you finally emerged from your room, shoes in hand, and let him at the front door.

Jake had been lingering in the foyer staring at all the pictures on your wall and the decorations that comprised who you wanted the world to see you as. A bit to honestly now that your eyes followed his to the goofy selfies or the ‘boofa deez nut’ candle you’d gotten as a gag gift and proudly displayed as a middle finger to the friend that had gotten it for you. The embarrassment should have killed you, but instead it was Jake’s eyes flicking up to meet yours that did you in.

You stumbled slightly. In your attempt to cover the movement to make it seem like you were bending over to put your shoes on, you’d stumbled more. Jake moved forward almost unconsciously to steady you, let out a low whistle and said, “You clean up nice.”

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you’ve seen me looking like half a disaster.”

“If that’s half a disaster, then you truly do put the ‘hot’ in ‘hot mess’, sugar.” Jake laughed and opened the door for you. He held it open, closed it behind you, and waited as you locked it. Then walked with you to the car to open the door for you there as well.

You thanked him, short and polite and completely caught off guard. Everything he said in that short walk from your front door to his car completely escaped you. Something about how you made a casual dress look like the most elegant outfit on earth. Just another charismatic comment to deepen the warm pool in your stomach. As though there weren’t enough butterflies flapping around in there already.

“You can pick the music.” Jake nodded toward the radio.

“I like classic rock,” you said. “It’s my favorite, actually.”

Jake grinned. “After my own heart. See, I knew there was somethin’ about you.” He turned slightly to put his arm around the passenger seat as he reversed, and you caught a whiff of his cologne. Subtle. Yet entirely welcomed, up until he winked at you.

Maybe this was all a game to him. Jake seemed like the type to charm a girl and leave her heartbroken. The prying eyes at the counter back at the diner had almost confirmed that for you. Whispers and nudging that you had wished you’d seen before you agreed to go out with him. This whole evening could very well be some big bet for the hot shots in the Navy to cash out on. All at your expense.

“So.” Jake cleared his throat. “You from around here?”

Once again, an awkward reminder that the two of you knew nothing about one another besides your names and addresses. Well, just Jake knew your address. He’d insisted on picking you up.

“No,” you told him. “Midwest, born and raised.”

“Stir crazy so you moved out West?”

“Something like that.” You nodded. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say you’re from down south?”

Jake laughed. Your heart skipped yet another beat and if it didn’t stop doing that you were going to have to schedule an appointment with your doctor before the night was out. “You’re a good shot.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Texas.”

“Oh, a cowboy?”

“Hardly.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the best of the radio. “I know my way around a horse, but I like to think I belong in the sky.”

“So, I should call you flyboy instead?” You ask with a slight giggle to your voice. More nervous than anything but there’s no mistaking the way the corners of Jake’s lips pull back at the sound. You want to take a detour to base just to ask those friends of his if he normally smiles this much or if you can allow yourself to feed into the delusion that someone as stunning as him saw you in a rundown diner having lunch and was so enamored by you that he simply had to ask you out.

“Only if you put a ‘my’ in front of it.”

Conversation flowed easily after that. The drive to the restaurant wasn’t long but still let you have a good idea of who Jake was. A flirt, first and foremost. He couldn’t go thirty seconds without calling you ‘darlin’’ or ‘sugar’ and any way Jake could make a comment about how wonderful you were, he was taking it. You stared at him the entire ride, studying his profile. He was a handsome man. There was no denying that. Old-fashioned in the way where you and your friend would flip through history books and point out who you would have fallen in love with during that time period. If someone were to show you a grainy photo of a navy pilot, his was the kind of face you’d imagine.

He pulled into a spot, and you immediately set to unbuckling and letting yourself out of the car.

“Ah,” Jake said as he shut off the car, “stay where you are.” And he hopped out to jog to the passenger side. “Here you are, darlin’.” He opened the door, offering you a hand, and helping you out of the car.

“Do they teach chivalry classes down in Texas?” You ask. He’s too busy positioning your hand on his bicep and leading you into the restaurant, where he holds open the door for you again, to answer.

“Sersin. Party of two,” he tells the host, who leads you to a table with a single, unlit candle in the middle.

Jake pulls your chair out for you, then settles in across from you in a strange mimicry of earlier today. You half expect him to spew the same cheesy pickup line but instead he fishes a lighter out of his pocket to light the candle.

“That’s better,” he says and turns his full attention on you with a grin. “So, tell me everything there is to know about you.”

You laugh, genuine this time. “About me?” He nods. “There’s not much to know about me. I’m kind of boring.”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t believe you.”

“I’m serious! My life is eat, sleep, work, repeat.”

“So is mine.”

“Yeah but you’re flying fighter jets and I’m too nervous to ask my boss for a promotion when I’m doing the work of two people.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot up. “The work of two people, huh? You’re a hard worker, and I’m guessing you’re damn good at what you do, too. I wouldn’t call that boring.”

You roll your eyes at him, but the compliment brings a smile to your face. “I guess you could say that.”

“Okay, so, you’re hardworking, talented, and beautiful. What else is there to know about you, doll?”

“Actually, flyboy, I want to know why they call you Hangman.” You lean forward and rest your chin in your hand. “That’s what everyone was calling you earlier today.”

He nods, leaning back in his seat. You drink in the movement. The way Jake squaring his shoulders has his nice green button down straining against his muscles and how he runs his tongue over his lips as he conjures up a thought.

“The real story, Seresin.” You raise an eyebrow in his direction.

“You remember my last name?”

“I texted it to my friend just in case you were secretly trying to murder me.”

He nods slowly. “You can never be too careful now a days.”

“Yup.”

“Well, you can tell your friend the only reason I’ll be making you scream is because my tongue is magic.” The waiter chooses that moment to appear over your shoulder asking if you and Jake are ready to order anything, leaving you a stuttering mess as you struggle to order something to drink. You can hardly form the word water to the point that Jake does it for you. “Thanks,” he tells the waiter as he walks off. Then he focuses his full attention back on you. “You held yourself together well.”

“Oh fuck off, you did that on purpose.” By the way he doesn’t deny it, you can tell you have him pegged. “Back to your true story.”

“It’s not as interesting as the one everyone else likes to tell.”

“I don’t care, flyboy. I want to know you, not everyone else.”

Interest sparks in his green eyes. “If you insist.” He leans forward, mimicking the way you’re on the edge of your seat. “In flight school we were running drills out in an old hangar when this nasty storm rolled him. Hurricane level winds and shit. Came out of nowhere. None of us were feeling too inclined to make a run for it in that kind of rain so we figured we’d hole up in the hangar for a few hours. There was an old radio that worked for a little bit, and we figured there was no time like the presence to get some maintenance on this jet done until the weather down, but the power went out.

“We had some flashlights and lanterns and things so it’s not like we were totally in the dark, but the stories ran out fast. We were bored out of minds. So, I recommended playing hangman. Something easy and simple ‘cause you can’t get too competitive with these guys. They take it way too far.”

“By them,” you cut in, “I’m guessing you mean you?”

He nods. “I won every single round and stumped them with all my puzzles.”

“Impressive,” you say, “I bet that pissed them all off.”

“Let’s just say everyone else’s version of why they call me Hangman holds a slight hint of disdain.”

The rest of the dinner flows naturally. You two talk without a single lull in conversation. He makes you laugh. He continues to compliment you every chance he can. But the real thing that works its way under your skin and lodges itself in your chest is the way he offers to switch plates with you when you take a bite of your meal and realize you don’t like it.

“No, Jake, you don’t have to. I’m a big girl. I’ll just deal with it.”

“Nonsense. It was my recommendation anyway.” Jake stares at you, jaw set, and voice firm. “I am not having you starving on this date. Give me your plate.”

And so, you swap plates with him taking a bite out of the steak he’d been raving about in the car when something in you breaks. You can hear how excited his tone of voice was. “It’s hard to get a decent steak when you’re on base.” He had told you. “The chow hall is okay if you like shoe leather and all, but now I hardly have time to make a decent cut of meat for myself.”

He gave it up so easily. The minute you set down your fork after three or four bites. Jake was telling you he’d switch. It… it was too much and you couldn’t help the sweeping off tears pushing at the back of your throat.

“Ah, shit.” He whispered. “Do you not want the steak? I can order you something else-”

You cut him off with the wave of your hand, which you quickly used to press over your mouth and stifle and unflattering sob. “No,” you whimpered, “this is perfect. Everything is perfect.”

“Are you sure?” Jake asked. “Because most ladies don’t start crying on dates when things are going well.”

You could tell he meant well. There was a joking lot to his voice and the bastard grin was back in his face but it only reminded you of how out of your element you were right now.

“I’m sorry.”

“I already told you to cut that out, sugar.”

“I know.” You sniffled, but tears kept falling. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

“It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.” Jake softened a bit. He reached out across the table, palm up waiting for you to slip your hand in his. When you did, he squeezed softly. “Want to talk about it?”

With your free hand you swiped at your cheeks. “I haven’t been on a first date in- actually, I’ve never even been on a date.”

There was no denying the way Jake’s eyes widened. “You’re tellin’ me men aren’t breakin’ down your door to take a pretty thing like you out on dates?” You shake your head. “See, that’s the issue with California folk, they’re idiots.”

He grins gently at you, which you return in full. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“I would.”

“I’ve had a couple boyfriends, but we never did relationship stuff.” Jake’s brows furrow in confusion and you rush to explain. “They would never want to leave the house. If I wanted to go out it would have to be by myself. They never asked me on dates or called me ‘darlin’’-” Jake rolls his eyes at your imitation of his accent- “or tell me I look beautiful. None of them ever held a door open for me. This is the first time I’ve even gotten flowers…” you trail off and bite down on your lip.

“I guess I should have seen it coming,” you fill the silence. “Everyone I’ve ever been in a relationship with has cheated on me. I guess I’ve always been a side chick or a rebound or whatever and you don’t really take side chicks out on dates. I always figured I wasn’t worth the romantic stuff, but there you are taking me out to a nice dinner and swapping dinners with me and… and I got overwhelmed.”

Jake is staring at you with a strange mix of anger and confusion. The gaze is lacking pity, which you appreciate. If he were to think of you as a poor girl who couldn’t land a date, you’d walk home before finishing this dinner.

He says your name so softly for the first time that night. There’s a thousand times more emotion in that name than all the pet names he’s been calling you.

“This isn’t romance.” The words make your heart sink. “This is the bare minimum. Basic kindness, sweetheart. You deserve this and nothing less. I- it makes me so frustrated to hear you talking about a relationship where some asshole let you believe you didn’t deserve to be treated like a princess.” Jake’s voice wavers slightly as he talks, anger bleeding in but not raising his voice to an unacceptable level. “Where I come from this isn’t chivalry. This is the way things are done. If I’m taking a beautiful girl like you out on a date, you better believe I’m going to make sure you know that I’m the lucky one.”

More tears prick at your eyes. Your bottom starts to quiver and when you open your mouth to apologize for getting weepy again Jake shakes his head at you. “I don’t know which one of those ducks told you that you had to apologize all the time, and I’m sure it was one of them, but you never have to apologize for things like this, doll. You’re allowed to have feelings. You’re allowed to talk about them.”

“Yeah, but it’s not good etiquette to bring up your exes on a first date.” You slip your hand from his to better wipe at your face. This sinking feeling of shame seeps into you. You probably look like just as much of a wreck as you were turning this date into.

“So this won’t be our first date, then.” Jake says it so simply. The easiest solution in the wonderful despite it not making sense in the slightest.

“What?”

“We’ll call this afternoon our first date. I stole food for your plate and took a couple sips of your drink, so it counts.” Jake grins at you. “This is our second date, which means it is completely okay to talk about your exes.”

With a small sniffle you manage to meet his eye again. The intensity that he looks at you has your face warming up again. “I have to say, Jake. I think I’m the lucky one tonight.”

“You’re not sitting on my end of the table.”

===

Bonus:

Jake insisted on opening the door for you again when he pulled up to your house after dinner. The two do you had lingered as long as humanly possible, but the wait staff looked as though they were going to run the pair of you through with a kitchen knife, so you reluctantly chose to head back towards home.

“Thank you.” You grabbed his hand as you stepped out of the car.

“Gives me an excuse to walk you to your door, pretty girl.”

“Oh, so this was all part of your masterplan?”

He laughs and stops under the light of your porch light. You’re fiddling with your keys, not too eager to open the door and end the night. Jake steps closer towards you, saying your name again for the second time that night. It’s a magnet, pulling you towards him so that his hands can settle at your waist. Those green eyes of his flick down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“I was waiting for you to ask that.”

Jake slides a hand from your waist to cup your cheek and he brings his lips to yours. No kiss you’ve ever had feels the way this one does. Right. Even your long-term relationships were twinged with shame or doubt. Kissing Jake feels like forgetting your own name is completely normal because you want to be washed up in this feeling of bliss for forever. He pulls away after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, and it takes him a moment to finally open his eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, voice cracking slightly.

“I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want you to think I’m only trying to hook up with you.”

You smile and press another soft kiss to his lips. Once again Jake takes a few seconds afterwards to fully look at you. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re having hesitations about sleeping with me on our second date and that’s something only gentlemen do.”

Jake laughs. The sound is like the bliss of your kiss personified. You want to drown in it.

“Plus, I think you promised me that I’d have a story to tell my friend about how good your tongue is… or do you only use your mouth to talk big game?”

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Unlock that damn door right now, dollface.”

You thought he’d never ask.

#Jake 'Hangman" Seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #Jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #reader insert #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #jake seresin fluff #fluff #top gun imagine

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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

🌱 jack hughes agreeing to watch your favorite movie on movie night instead of his

𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐠𝐮𝐧 𝐯𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 | jh⁸⁶

♡ ─ word count | 397

♡ ─ warnings | nothing but sweet fluff, jack being a tom cruise dickrider (jk)

♡ ─ ev's notes | IM ON MY LOVE ISLAND KICK LEAVE ME ALONE

"Jack."

You pouted as Jack scrolled through Amazon, trying to find a good movie to watch. He wanted to watch Top Gun Maverick for the 3rd time this month. It wasn't even the original Top Gun but he still insists on watching it every time you wanted to have a movie night.

Jack looked back at you, smirking as he caught your pouty expression. You continued your pout in hopes of swaying him to change his mind. "I thought you liked Top Gun Maverick."

"I did, before we watched it 5 million times." You exaggerated, frowning. "I'm pretty sure I can recite the whole movie by now."

Jack laughed as he shook his head. "Come on, baby, it's so good. And besides, it's not like I'm making you watch it alone," Jack replied with a teasing smile. "Think of it as our go-to movie, our comfort film."

You sighed dramatically, resting your chin on your hand. "Comfort film is one thing, Jack, but this is turning into a Top Gun Maverick marathon. I'm starting to dream about fighter jets and Maverick in my sleep."

Jack let out another laugh, enjoying how much he was annoying you. He raised an eyebrow, considering your request. "Alright, alright. I guess I can give it a break for one night."

Your eyes lit up with a smile. "Oh my god, finally." You let out a sigh of relief. "Let's watch Love Island!"

Jack pretended to be annoyed, giving you a short glare before searching it up. "Seriously?" Jack teased, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Alright, fine, we'll watch Love Island."

"I've had to watch all that fighter jet shit all month long." You glared at him but you knew he secretly really enjoyed it. You know for a fact he loves all the drama that comes with Love Island - oh, and their funny accents too.

After turning on Love Island, Jack was invested by the end of the episode. You stared at him as he watched the TV, a smirk playing on your lips. You wanted to tell him "told ya so" but you loved seeing him so invested.

He finally noticed and looked at you, shaking his head. "Shut up."

You laughed and turned your focus back to the TV, knowing that you had found a new show that you and Jack could binge together.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#jack hughes #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes fic #luke hughes #new jersey devils #jack hughes smut #jack hughes x you #nhl angst #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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roosterforme · 6 months

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You're convinced you and Bradley could go on the same date a million times over, and you would find something new to love about it each time. You don't want the weekend to come to an end, but at least you get to enjoy time with a favorite visitor on Sunday evening.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley was dressed and lounging back on the pillows with his arms tucked behind his head. You were getting ready to go out, and he was thoroughly enjoying watching you put on your red lingerie. His favorite set.

"We could just stay in," he murmured as you clasped your bra and rolled your eyes. Your face was made up and you were standing at the foot of the bed wearing barely anything at all. "We should just stay in."

You scoffed and said, "You should let Tramp out so we can leave in twenty minutes. I want to eat hot sauce with my sexy husband."

"Fine," Bradley sighed with a smile, pausing in the doorway to watch you slip your red dress over your head. The same one you wore on your first date together. The one Bradley loved you in every time you wore it. And then he walked through the kitchen to let Tramp outside. Your new French press was on the counter along with the half unpacked Amazon box that neither of you had time to get to all week. But he reached inside and pulled out one of his new notebooks and took a pen out of the drawer.

Bradley had been working late all week for various reasons. He'd missed a lot while he was deployed. Plus the Slayer and Dean court-martial was moving ahead. And also, Maverick had offered him the chance to meet some pilots fresh out of flight school with the promise that Bradley could help with some training exercises in the coming months. He was tired. Next month was his thirty-seventh birthday. He was feeling his age.

He clicked the pen in his hand and opened the notebook to the first page.

My wife does this thing, and it drives me absolutely wild. When I tell her I'm tired or point out a gray hair in my mustache or mention that I've been feeling my age, she just laughs at me. Sure, I can still run ten miles and lift weights for hours on end, but she can wear me out in an instant. Emotionally, mentally, or physically. She can say one sentence to me like, "I want to go eat hot sauce with my sexy husband," and I am emotionally tanked for the rest of the day. Because I fucking believe her. She actually does want to eat her favorite food with me. And she actually does think I'm sexy. And she's too smart, so trying to keep up with her mentally drains me every single time. And physically... Well. That's where she manages to

"You ready to go, Roo?" you asked, walking into the kitchen looking exactly like you had more than a year and a half ago when you and he were just starting to fall in love. Well, he was already half in love with you by the time that first date rolled around. And by the end of the night, he was a goner.

"What's wrong?" you asked, reaching out for his hand with a little crease between your eyebrows.

"Nothing," he rasped as his eyes dipped down to your cleavage. "Just thinking about how I don't even have to try to play it cool tonight, unlike on our first date." He leaned down and kissed your lips softly and then added, "You look fucking incredible."

"I don't care what you say, we're not staying in for the night," you whispered, running your fingers along his tattoo and pulling him in for a kiss that was clearly at odds with your words.

"Whatever you say, Sweetheart," Bradley replied. He let Tramp back inside and then walked out to the Bronco with your hand in his. And then he got to do one of his favorite things. He opened the door for you, helped you climb in, and buckled your seatbelt. But as he started to pull his right hand away from your body, you caught it and held him close.

"Hey," you whispered. "I don't have to try to play it cool tonight either."

"No?" he asked, his eyes fluttering closed as your lips met his.

"No. I love you so much," you replied. "And I would go on the same date with you a million times, because each time would be a little different, and I know I would remember them all."

Bradley could feel goosebumps on your arm, and your eyes looked a little vulnerable. Last time you and he had visited the hot sauce restaurant and the pier from your first date, it had been on your birthday. And you cried that night. A lot. Because you wanted to be pregnant, but you weren't. He briefly wondered how many other times you'd cried for that reason that he didn't even know about.

He wanted a baby. He still did. But it wasn't his top priority. He understood now how much you'd let it hurt you month after month. And it wasn't the same for him. He knew that now. And he didn't want you to feel like you were failing yourself, your relationship or him ever again. Because you weren't. You were more than enough.

"I remember every minute I've ever spent with you, Sweetheart. And I dream about it when I'm deployed. And I want to have decades of stuff to remember."

"Just keep feeding me hot sauce."

"I fucking plan on it."

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

The ride up to Del Mar was beautiful. The sky faded from orange to purple as Bradley drove and sang along to his Motown playlist with his hand on your thigh. You thought about how you had a panic attack on your birthday after the negative pregnancy tests, but the memory of it didn't hurt as much now.

"What are you thinking about, Baby Girl?"

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the restaurant. "Honestly?"

He met your eyes briefly as he straightened out the tires. "Yeah, honestly."

"I still want to have a baby, Roo," you said easily, this time without your heart aching. "I still think about it. But it doesn't make me upset like it used to."

He killed the engine, and coaxed you over to his lap. "Come here." When you were settled on him with your hands on his shoulders, he kissed you. "I still think about it, too. I still want it. But not at the expense of this," he added, gesturing between his body and yours before he let his big hand settle on your hip. "I don't want anything at the expense of this."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "Neither do I. And I know we agreed we can talk about this at length in a few more months, but I don't want to stop trying. And if there's still something wrong after a year, maybe we can talk to some doctors?"

"There's nothing wrong with us, okay? There's never going to be anything wrong. But if we still don't get pregnant, there are other options," he told you gently. "Like... fertility treatment or adoption agencies. But whatever we do, it's 50/50. We do it together. And I promise I'll take care of you better than I did before."

You were silent for a beat, because these were things you'd already thought about. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I'm just saying, if we want a baby, there are other ways to make it happen. But I'm never going to stop wanting to fuck you, so don't think for a second that we're taking that off the table."

You shook with silent laughter before your giggles bubbled over. "Okay, we won't take that off the table, Roo."

He kissed your cheek and said, "Keep your pussy on the table." But he was laughing too, and you felt really good inside. His hands were heavy on your hips, and his lips were nipping at your neck. "Just let me feed you hot sauce and love you, and then we'll figure the rest out later if we even need to. I wanna give it a little more time, okay? Some more time with you off birth control. Some more time with us just being us. Like this."

"Yes," you agreed. "This is perfect. This feels good."

Now he was rubbing his mustache along your cleavage, and you knew you needed to get him inside the restaurant while you still could. "I'm hungry," you whispered.

"Me too," he agreed with a smirk.

"For dinner," you clarified with a laugh.

When you finally got him inside the restaurant, you could hear his stomach growling, so you didn't feel too bad. "Order two meals you want to try, Baby Girl," he said casually once you were seated.

You loved it when he let you do that, which was most of the time. And he always let you finish whichever one you liked better. And he never complained. You could feel his eyes on your body when you walked around to look at all the hot sauces on the shelves. Every time you glanced at him across the restaurant, he gave you a little nod or a wink. And there was no doubt in your mind that you were just as attracted to him now as you were the first time you were here.

When you brought some that you wanted to try back to your table, a brand new bottle of your favorite green sauce was sitting next to your favorite beer. "How am I supposed to deal with you, Bradley?"

"It's your favorite. And it's a tradition."

You laughed. "You bought me a whole case of 12 bottles online."

"You go through a bottler per week."

"That's actually fair."

Then your meals were delivered to the table, and you doused both of them in a rainbow of sauces and started eating. The two of you ended up sharing both meals, because you couldn't decide which one you liked better. And that one beer made you feel calm, and now Bradley's cheeks were rosy. After your conversation in the Bronco and the past week with him, you felt like all of the weight and pressure you put on yourself was easing up.

After dinner, you were laughing as he led you down the sidewalk with his arm wrapped around your waist. And you couldn't keep your hands off him either. "Why are we passing the Bronco? We should go home."

"Not yet," he whispered in your ear.

You gasped. "Are we going back to the silent disco?"

"Well," he rasped, looking at you with a wince. "Not exactly. I've been trying to get you back there for one, but they always seem to be when I'm deployed. But I had another idea. Let's walk down the pier."

You snorted. "You just want a handjob."

"Please," he replied, leading you across the street and down the pier. "Give me a little credit. I don't just want a handjob."

"Well that's good, because there are a lot of people out tonight," you whispered as he spun you around so your back was pressed against the railing and you were looking up at his face. "You're really handsome."

His cheeks were still rosy, but you thought perhaps your words had deepened the color. You ran your fingers along his scarred neck and across his cheek and into his hair. His eyes closed as he enjoyed your touch, and you studied him closely. He looked a little older than when you met him, with a few gray hairs here and there and maybe another wrinkle or two on his face. He'd been through a lot since then. He had the scars on his arm to prove it. But you didn't want to add emotional scars; he had plenty of those already. You just let him melt into your right hand as your left rested on his chest, and you looked at your diamond ring.

It was yours now, but sometimes you still thought of it as Carole Bradshaw's ring. Not in a bad way. Just as a form of recognition. It felt like an honor that you were wearing something so special. Maybe that was thanks in part to the words Bradley had read to you from his notebook. His recent thoughts and musings. But it was clear that some things were more important than others.

"I love you," he murmured, eyes still closed. "Are you ready for your newest playlist?"

"What is it?" you asked, his question pulling you back to the pier and the grin on his face.

"Just a little something I've been thinking about and finally put together." He pulled his earbuds out of his pocket and held one up for you to take. Then he tucked the other one in his own ear and kissed your nose. "It's all the songs I can remember from the silent disco. Plus what we listened to in the car that night. Oh, and a surprise track. Because I know you'll think it's funny."

Your heart swelled as you slid the earbud into place, and a few seconds later, the Cher song that played at the silent disco was on. And your heart was beating a little faster. And you couldn't stop smiling. "You really remembered all the songs we heard that night?"

Bradley shrugged. "I may have missed some. We'll add them if you remember more, okay?"

"I love this," you gasped, throwing your arms around his neck. "I love you."

He kissed your jaw and whispered, "I told you... I remember every minute I've spent with you. Or at least the way you've made me feel at any given time. Maybe the memories of some of the songs are a little hazy for me, but I remember how fucking good you made me feel that night. And how I was proud to be there with you. I still feel that way."

"Fuck, Bradley. You can't make me cry while Britney Spears is playing."

He laughed. "Okay. Let's dance then."

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

It was dark out. The other people who had been enjoying the view of the ocean from the pier had dissipated. An orange glow from the scattered lampposts softly lit your face like a dream. Bradley had taken to singing all the songs to you, just to hear you laugh and sing along yourself. The random mix of pop songs and '80s ballads and romantic Motown tunes kept a smile on your face. You laughed when Hey Soul Sister played, and you threatened to text Nat. And the whole time, Bradley held you close with his hands at your hips and waist.

"Oh," he said when the music went silent. "That's the end of the playlist."

"It's over?" you asked, leaning back against the railing and looking up at him longingly. You removed your earbud and handed it back to him.

"Baby Girl, it was almost three hours long," he informed you with a laugh.

You tipped your head back and groaned. "It was perfect." Then you gasped softly as his lips found the pretty expanse of your neck and chest which were on display for him. He was sucking gently on your collarbone as you said, "I knew I was in trouble after the first time you brought me here. You were so sincere that night."

Bradley hummed against your warm skin. "I was already thinking about spending the rest of my life with you."

"No! Stop it. We had just met." Your voice sounded breathy as he drew little shapes along your dress with his thumbs, your head still tipped back.

"Didn't matter. Already knew."

Your hands slid up from his shoulders into his hair, and he nibbled along the tops of your breasts as you made the sweetest little sounds. Your nipples were tight peaks against the fabric of your dress, and when Bradley ran his lips lower to feel you, he groaned. The texture of your lace bra filled his imagination with possibilities.

You tilted your head up, and when he met your eyes, you had the audacity to look surprised. "You're hard, Roo."

He raised one eyebrow at you, just short of rolling his eyes. "Listen... when two people love each other very, very much..."

Your laughter filled him. "Oh, is that how this works? You know, that sentence can be interpreted a lot of ways."

He had to close his eyes as you gently squeezed his length through his jeans. "It's how it works with you." He huffed out a breath when you licked his ear and added, "You make me greedy. I want everything."

You hummed softly as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. Bradley glanced around to make sure you and he were truly alone as you whispered, "Then let's have everything. Even if it takes some time."

"I love that," he groaned as your cool hand dipped inside his boxer briefs and closed around him. One stroke and he was putty in your hands.

"And we'll start with the handjob that I was seriously contemplating giving you on our first date."

"Oh fuck, Sweetheart. You're too much." Bradley bucked against your belly as you ran your thumb along his balls. He'd let you go a little further with this, but then he was taking you home for the night. Just a little more. Each stroke was incredible as he kissed your lips.

But when you started asking him questions, he should have known he was in trouble. Because you always got unbridled information out of him when you put him in situations like this. "What do you want for your birthday, Roo?"

He was watching your hand pass over his tip as he grunted, "Another sexy calendar."

"That can be arranged," you said sweetly. "And how do you feel about me starting to save up some money for a first anniversary trip?"

"Do it," he growled as you rubbed at his precum with your thumb. But then he wrenched his hips away, and your eyes were transfixed on his cock as it leapt for you.

"You don't want to finish here?" you asked, your eyes moving up his body to his face as you licked him from your thumb.

After he zipped himself carefully back in his jeans, he said, "I don't want to ruin your dress, and I don't want to get arrested. Let's go home." He didn't even wait for you to respond. He just turned and picked you up for a piggy back ride back to the Bronco.

The drive home was similar to that very first date. After you kissed him while he fumbled with your seat belt trying buckle you in, he turned on another playlist before he started the engine. But this time he was driving to the house that you shared, not the apartment you used to live in with Maria. And he didn't have to leave you for the night to prove to himself that he could, and that maybe he was good enough. He was your husband now, and you had deemed him good enough for you.

Bradley's hand was gripping your thigh as he saw the craftsman down the block. As soon as he was pulling into the driveway, you were crawling toward him, and he barely had the Bronco in park before you were straddling his thighs.

"I want you in every way." That sentence was the best example of how you wore him out emotionally. It was fucking beautiful, and he could spend all night just thinking about it. But you were kissing him now, and he was already aroused again as he finally turned the key in the ignition.

"You own me." You really seemed to love that response as your lips stayed gentle on his and your hand drifted down his body to his zipper again. It was so dark outside, even in the neighborhood, but Bradley could see the question in your eyes as you pulled back a little bit. Maybe you wanted to make sure he wanted this, too. Maybe you wanted him inside you instead of anything else. He just wanted to be with you. "Anything you want, Sweetheart."

"Okay."

He shimmied his jeans and underwear down his hips, lifting you up as well with a soft laugh. Then you took his hands in yours and guided them slowly up under your dress. He was treated to the sight of you unzipping your dress and unclasping your bra and pulling them down so he could see your pretty tits and peaked nipples. But then his hands froze under your dress.

"You changed your underwear. Earlier tonight. After I left the bedroom."

Your laughter had your tits bouncing just enough to distract Bradley and lure his lips to them.

"Oh!" you gasped as he sucked on you. "I did. I know you like the red ones, but I wanted these instead. Do you know which ones they are?"

That was a ridiculous question, and you knew it. He ran his thumb up your slit and could feel the satin fabric and the fancy embroidered letters as you bucked. He sucked harder until you called out his name and braced your hands on his shoulders. You were wearing the underwear you had specially made for the honeymoon.

"Of course I know, Mrs. Bradshaw."

"You passed the test!"

Bradley tugged your panties to the side and thrust up into you in one fluid motion until he bottomed out. "That's a test I will always pass."

Your hands were scrambling around his neck as you leaned in closer and kissed him. He led your hips in a slow roll with his hands on your ass and whispered, "Just. Like. That."

You kept the pace going, already panting softly as he brought one hand back up to your tits. His other fingers trailed around your hip, and he tucked them inside the front of your panties. As soon as he brushed your clit with his knuckle, you whined for him. "Daddy."

It had been a while since he heard you call him that. And fuck if he didn't love it. But you looked almost surprised that you'd said it out loud, eyes wide as you rode him.

"I fucking love it when you call me that," he crooned as he pinched your nipple. Your pussy was already fluttering around him as you kept that perfect tempo. Bradley pressed his mouth to yours as you babbled incoherently, and it was just a lost cause as you raked your fingers through his hair. He came inside you as he kept pressing his knuckle to your clit.

"Come on, Sweetheart," he coaxed as your movements sped up and then slowed as your cries echoed inside the Bronco. Then your lips were all over his before you abruptly broke away.

Your voice was a sweet little gasp as you said, "Don't make a mess on the upholstery."

With a laugh rumbling deep in his chest, Bradley opened the door and lifted you down from the driver's seat. "Just one of the many reasons we're married."

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

You and Bradley were lounging in bed on Sunday morning, and he was doing a really poor job of making you want to leave to meet Cam and Maria for brunch.

"Aren't you supposed to be golfing today?" you asked with a laugh as he pinned your wrists over your head on the pillow.

"Yep," he replied softly. "Supposed to meet Jake, Javy and Bob in less than an hour."

You sighed as his lips met the underside of your breast. "Shouldn't you be getting dressed then?"

"I'd rather go for round three and then drink champagne in the bathtub with you."

Now that did sound nice. The weekend had been so much fun. Going up to the hot sauce restaurant had been perfect. You were exhausted all over from having sex and taking Tramp on long beach walks and staying up too late watching movies last night. And Bradley finished reading his notebook to you and promised he'd start from the beginning all over again. Frankly, you could use a nap already, so you weren't really sure how Bradley was doing so well at the moment.

"I'm supposed to go to brunch," you whispered, and Bradley rolled off of you with a groan.

"I'll get side eye for a month from Maria and Cam if you don't go," he said. "So I guess I'll just go play golf."

"We can do round three later," you promised, kissing his ear as you climbed out of bed and started to get ready. "You want me to bring you back some avocado toast?" you asked with a smile.

He made a disgusted face. "You know I hate that stuff. I'll just day drink and eat protein bars like a normal person until you feed me dinner."

"If I decide to feed you dinner later."

Bradley's face looked panicked. "You have to. Please? Sweetheart," he called, springing out of bed and following you to the bathroom. "Please?"

"You're ridiculous, Bradley. Go get a pack of chicken out of the freezer, and I'll make you some Marry Me Rooster tonight."

"Thank you." He kissed you so long and so passionately, you actually felt a little dizzy when he walked out of the room. "He's ridiculous," you muttered as you pressed your fingertips to your lips.

When you finally made it to brunch fifteen minutes late, Cam was glaring at you. "Maria wouldn't let me order anything until you got here. And I'll just bet you're late because Lieutenant Commander Mustache was doing something nasty to you."

You burst into laughter as you slid into the booth next to him. "I mean... I was just helping him with his golf clubs."

"The two of you are fucking filthy," he replied, flagging down the waitress while you and Maria laughed.

Brunch with the two of them was always fun, and you were on your second mimosa when Bradley texted you.

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: Jake wants to know if we can watch Jeremiah tonight if he can manage to get Cat to agree to go to a movie. I told him I had to check with the boss. He laughed and said he should have just texted you instead of asking me... oh wait, I think he's texting you now. Why did I even bother? And then you got a text from Jake asking very nicely if he and Cat could drop Jeremiah off later on their way to a movie. You told them both yes, and when you got home from brunch, you started to clean up the living room. You found your underwear from last night on the coffee table, and your bra was draped over the arm of the couch.

"Don't look at me like that," you told Tramp. "We were just having a good time, okay?" Then you smiled, because you knew that your pup was going to love licking crumbs off of the one year old visitor and following him around the room. "Your friend is coming over. I expect you to be well behaved."

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

"He's just so fucking cute."

"Roo! Stop swearing in front of the child!"

Bradley looked up at you from all fours on the living room floor. "Isn't he too young for it to matter?" he asked in all seriousness.

You were gaping at him like he was an idiot, and he started laughing. "The last thing I need is Cat mad at me because his first word is the f-word."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "If he doesn't learn it from me, then I'm sure he'll learn it from Jake."

"Yeah, well that's Jake's problem," you muttered, ducking back into the kitchen to check on dinner.

Bradley scooped Jeremiah up and said, "You're so freaking cute. Is that better?" The little bubble of laughter he got in response was most likely a yes, so he just went with it. "Let's see here. It's almost dinner time. And then I'll bet my hot wife will read us that book about trucks that you liked so much."

"I'll read it now," you said as you walked back into the room. "Dinner is not quite ready yet."

"Hell yes, she's going to read it to us now," Bradley said as he and Jeremiah crawled across the floor to the diaper bag where the book was stashed. He unzipped it and watched the kid reach in and pull everything out including the book. "Nice work. But my knees can't take much more."

With a groan, Bradley scooped him and the book up and carried them to the couch where you were sitting with Tramp. And you looked calm and relaxed as you held the child on your lap and opened the book. Your voice was so sweet, and you were so beautiful, Bradley noticed that Jeremiah seemed more interested in you than the story at times. And it made him smile, because that was pretty much the same way he always looked at you, too.

But he was done stressing about all of it. Bradley was in love with you, and the weekend was everything he wanted. Having a kid like Jeremiah all to yourselves would be a cherry on top of an already perfect life. And if you and he were both still keen on the idea next year, there were options to be discussed at length.

Bradley let himself hope, just the tiniest bit, that maybe you and he would get lucky before then. But he wouldn't drown in that hope like he had before. And he wouldn't let that hope overshadow how great things were right now. But he wouldn't abandon it either. He laughed as he thought about how insightful his notebook entry was going to be later tonight after Jeremiah got picked up.

"Should I read it again?" you asked, looking up at Bradley.

He kissed your cheek. "At least one more time, Sweetheart. We can't get enough of your voice."

You smiled as he and Jeremiah settled in to hear the favorite story again.

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

The perfect date to do over and over. Little Jeremiah is too sweet, I'm just hoping Cat and Jake are enjoying themselves, too. Just hang in there guys... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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