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#t: flyboy
daisyfieldrecs · 13 days
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Bob Floyd Fics Pt. 2
Man of your dreams| One-Shot| Fluff| @sorchathered
Please Come Home for Christmas| One-Shot| Fluff| @nerdgirljen
bleeding love| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @bobgasm
do you wanna make somethin' of it| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @theharddeck
All I Want| One-Shot| Fluff| @cornishkat
Pride, Prejudice, and Flyboys| One-Shot| Smut| @sorchathered
Explicitly Yours| One-Shot| Smut| @roosterforme
Cards Close to the Chest| One-Shot| Fluff| @ohtobeleah
Sprinkles of Love| One-Shot| Fluff| @bradshawsbaby
Ruin the Friendship| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @withahappyrefrain
Stiff Competition| One-Shot| Fluff| @roosterforme
The Kind of Girl I Could Love|One-Shot| Fluff| @roosterforme
Stud on Board| One-Shot| Fluff, Implied Smut| @roosterforme
He Sees All My Colors| One-Shot| Fluff, Angst, Implied Smut| @peachystenbrough
i want you midnights| One-Shot| Fluff| @laracrofted
Bob and T Swift| One-Shot| Fluff| @peachystenbrough
The Perfect Pink| One-Shot| Fluff| @attapullman
Something in the Orange| Pt.2| Two-Shot| Smut| @sorchathered
A Lesson in Love| One-Shot| Fluff| @tip-top-cloud-surfer
Bob and the Moon| One-Shot| Fluff| @topguncortez
Baby Boy Bob| One-Shot| Fluff| @topguncortez
Dandelions| One-Shot| Fluff| @callsign-phoenix
there's a hole where something was...| One-Shot| Fluff| @bobfloydssunnies
you don’t have to be a star| One-Shot| Fluff, Implied Smut| @sunlightmurdock
color up my skies| One-Shot| Smut| @thiswaytwoinfinity
scenes from the kitchen sink| One-Shot| Fluff| @bradshawsbaby
High On Lovin' You| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @bradshawssugarbaby
Bob From Stats| One-Shot| Smut| @attapullman
six summers| Series| Warnings in Each Chapter| @lewmagoo
Mav's Reaction to Each Dagger Dating His Daughter| One-Shot| Fluff| @tip-top-cloud-surfer
I will ease your mind.| One-Shot| Fluff| @floydsmuse
Like Peas in a Pod| One-Shot| Fluff, Angst| @bradshawsbaby
Covering the Classics| Series| Warnings in Each Chapter| @roosterforme
good girl| One-Shot| Smut| @bobgasm
Some Things Take Time| One-Shot| Fluff, Angst| @roosterforme
All The Pretty Girls| One-Shot| Fluff| @bradshawssugarbaby
the legend of the great wizard bobernius| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @sio-ina-bottle
As you wish| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @sorchathered
Pretend| One-Shot| Fluff, Smut| @attapullman
Room for Dessert| One-Shot| Smut| @purelyfiction
I HEARD SCREAMING| One-Shot| Smut| @oncasette
Stupid White Car| One-Shot| Fluff| @attapullman
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fandomxpreferences · 1 year
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You’re All I Care About
Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader
Summary: Bradleys world is almost flipped upside down when he receives a terrifying call from you. (Based off this post) 
TW: car accident, angst, mentions of blood, swearing, fluff
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: I’m not really pleased with how this turned out but I also don't have the motivation to rewrite it so blah
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You blink your eyes a few times trying to take in your surroundings. The first thing you register is the blaring horn and the smell of blood. You know that you've just been T-boned but you don't know how bad it is. The other car must have run because you're alone in the middle of the four-way stop. You're not on a popular road so there are no other cars around to help. 
The first thing you think to do is call Bradley. You know he'll get here faster than any first responders. Your heart drops when you realize that you're in his bronco. Your car was in the shop having some work done, so he had insisted you drive it. You don't stay stuck on the thought for long, digging for your phone.
The impact had spun the truck around and everything went flying. You spot your cell on the passenger side floorboard and reach to grab it. It takes you a minute to get your hands on it, having to be mindful of the shattered glass covering the car. Once it's in your hands, you press Bradley's contact and lean back with your eyes closed. 
Bradley's at your shared home laughing with Jake and Nat when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your contact photo and answers, pressing the phone to his ear. His face drops when he hears a car horn blasting and you don't greet him. The two pilots notice his change in demeanor and sit up with concern written on their features. 
"Y/N?" He tries and his heart plummets when you don't respond. He tries again, this time louder and you finally answer. "Bradley," you breathe and he stands up when he hears the tears and panic in your voice. "I'm sorry about your Bronco."
His eyes widen when he realizes the horn is coming from his truck. "Baby where are you?" He's already grabbing Jake's keys and sprinting out the door. Jake and Nat are hot on his tail, not bothering to ask any questions. Bradley's reaction is all they need to know. You give him your location and he stays on the phone with you. 
"I'm only a couple minutes away, baby. Are you hurt?" His stomach twists in anticipation of your answer. Your head hurts but you're not in any severe pain. "I don't think so. My head hurts, but that's it." You tell him and he breathes a little easier. 
"Okay, honey. Are the paramedics there yet?" He doesn't hear any sirens and wonders how long ago this happened. He's going 80 in a 55 and it won't take him much longer to get to you. You chuckle to yourself as you answer. "No, you're the first person I called."
Bradley's eyebrows furrow and he turns to Jake. "Call an ambulance." His friend looks at him baffled for a second. "Now." His voice is more urgent this time and Jake pulls out his phone to call 911. 
The truck skids to a stop as they pull up to the accident. Phoenix gasps and covers her mouth and Jake is in complete disbelief. He's still on the phone with the operator and he tells them to hurry. Bradley feels like he's going to throw up as he bolts out of the truck, barely putting it in park. 
His bronco is completely crushed in on the driver's side and glass is littered across the road. All of the airbags are deployed and he falters when he sees blood. 
He hasn't even seen you yet, but if the condition of his truck is any indication, it isn't good. He makes it to you and he runs his hands through his hair in a panic, unsure of what to do. All of his military training has flown out the window. 
He’s brought back when he sees Jake try to wrench the door open. He helps him pull a couple of times but it's pinned shut. "Hey, flyboy." He hears your sweet voice and forces himself to look at you. 
He feels a lump form in his throat and he reaches toward your head. You have blood dripping down the side of your face, but other than that you don't look too beat up. 
There are definitely some cuts from the glass and probably bruises from the seatbelt locking up, but it could be worse. He knows your head is the most concerning injury. The way you're bleeding there's no way you didn't hit it, but you seem aware of your surroundings and have your usual teasing tone.
Bradley runs around to the passenger side and opens the door. He climbs in ignoring the shards digging into him and leans over to check your pulse. He can hear the sirens approaching and calms down just enough to talk. "Hey, baby. We're gonna get you out of here but I need you to try and keep your head still until they can check you out okay?" 
You hum in acknowledgment just as the ambulance and police cars arrive at the scene. Bradley is pulled back by Jake as the paramedics start asking questions and working on you. He pulls against the restraint and Nat finally gets out of the truck and rushes over. She stands in from of him and places a gentle hand on his arm. "Let them work, Bradley."
He stops fighting and deflates into the man behind him. He feels the adrenaline start to fade and hot tears prick at his eyes. He scrubs his hands over his face trying to compose himself as a paramedic walks up to him. 
"She's stable, but were transporting her to the hospital to check for head trauma and internal injuries. Do one of you want to ride in the back with her?" Bradley immediately steps forward and the paramedic nods, leading him to the ambulance. 
He climbs in and takes your hand. You look significantly better with a bandage on your head and a woman is working on disinfecting your cuts. You look over at him the best you can with the neck brace and within seconds tears are rolling off your face. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. "It's okay, baby. You're okay."
You look up at him and his heart shatters at the fear in your eyes. "I'm so sorry about the bronco, Bradley. I promise I'll pay for whatever damage if it can even be fixed." He shakes his head in disbelief and grasps both of your hands In his. 
'Listen to me. I don't give two fucks about that right now. All I care about is you being okay. I'll deal with all that later." You blink and another tear cascades down your cheek. "But it means so much to you."
Bradley closes his eyes and a tear slips out. He leans down to rest his head on top of your interlocked hands and takes a shaky breath. "Nothing in this world means more to me than you. A car can be replaced, you can't. Sure I'm devastated, but not nearly as devastated as I would be if something had happened to you."
Truthfully Bradley doesn't know if he could ever get behind the wheel of his bronco again, even if it is salvageable. Anytime he goes to drive it, he'll only be able to picture you stuck behind the wheel covered in blood and glass. 
It's silent for a few minutes and before you know it, you're being admitted to the hospital. Jake and Nat arrive with the ambulance and join Bradley in the waiting room. The staff whisks you away immediately to do some scans and all they can do is wait. 
After what seemed like days but in reality, was only an hour and a half, a doctor comes out and calls your name. The three of them shoot up and race forward. "How is she?" The doctor glances at the chart to confirm and then looks back up at your boyfriend.
"She's just fine. She has a cut on her head that required a few stitches and some scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe. All of her scans came back clear. She does have a mild concussion, the nurse will explain how to proceed with that." 
Bradley feels a rush of relief followed by a sob clawing up his throat. He didn't realize just how terrified he was. He runs a hand down his face and nods. "Thank you. Can I see her?" The man nods and tells him a room number before walking away. 
Bradley all but sprints to your room and almost collapses when he can see that you're really okay with his own two eyes. You're sitting up on the side of the bed talking to a nurse when your eyes land on him. You give him a bright smile and he feels his heart flutter. Even in blood-stained clothes, you manage to steal his breath. 
He lurches forward and hugs you before pulling back and giving you a gentle yet desperate kiss. It's filled with all of the emotion he's been reeling in since you called him and you taste salty wetness. You pull back and reach up to wipe his tears before kissing the corners of his eyes. 
"Everything is okay. I'm okay. They're finishing up the paperwork and then you can take me home." Bradley doesn't say anything, he just nods in understanding. 
An hour later, you're in Jake's truck on the way home. Bradley sits in the backseat with you, absentmindedly rubbing circles on your inner thigh. Once you're home he helps you inside, and you both wave goodbye to Jake and Nat. 
You make your way over to the couch and plop down with a sigh. "Can we cuddle and watch movies?" You ask with a small pout and Bradley leans down to kiss your head. 
"Of course. Let me go pop some popcorn while you find something to put on." You nod and smile. "We both know we're watching Legally Blonde, babe." The pilot laughs and shakes his head, trying to pretend he doesn't love that movie as much as you do. "You and your chick flicks."
An hour later, you're curled up in his arms snoring softly. He looks down at you and takes in your features. He commits your face to memory, noting how peaceful you look. He doesn't bother disturbing you, instead laying his head back and closing his eyes as well. Today scared the shit out of him, but as long as you're here in his arms he knows you're safe and sound.
Taglist:
@drakelover78​
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hellooooo!! congrats on the one year anniversary<3<3
could I request “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” with poe?
(thank you for doing this event!!!!)
All Your Fault
AN: OMG IT'S A FIC-AVERSAY REQUEST!! lol Told y'all I was still gonna answer all of these! That said, I'm betting you probably don't even remember sending this lmao but I hope you can still enjoy it all the same though. Thanks for your patience 💖
(Un-beta’d)
Rated: T Words: 1,068 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (written with f!reader in mind but I'm pretty sure this could be read as GN. please correct me if that's wrong) Warnings: kissing, arguing...nothing else I can think of (please let me know if I missed something) AO3
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Commander Poe Dameron is, quite literally, the bane of your existence.  
Sure, he’s a great pilot and, okay fine, he’s not a terrible leader but, damn it if the bastard doesn’t drive you absolutely crazy with his needlessly risky plans. You’re not sure if he has a death wish or if he’s just an adrenaline junky, but what you do know is that if the storm troopers chasing you don’t kill him, you just might. 
You run down the narrow hallway of the First Order compound you’ve infiltrated, Dameron in tow, desperately searching for an escape. You spot a door, thank the Maker when it’s unlocked, and pull Dameron inside with you by the lapels of his jacket, glaring at him when he opens his mouth to complain. 
“Shut up,” you whisper harshly, pushing him against the back of the door. 
He watches you in the dim light for a moment, lips parted, breath leaving him in pants. Your eyes drop to his mouth, lingering longer than you’d like, and you wonder briefly if they’re as soft as they look, how they’d feel against yours, how they’d taste— 
Okay fine, so you’re a little attracted to him. That didn’t mean he didn’t still infuriate the hell out of you. 
The thundering of boots crescendos outside the door, (blessedly) breaking you from your staring contest with his mouth. Still pressed against Poe, you swallow thickly, your face warm as you forcibly avert your gaze. Your eyes land on his neck, and you have to ignore the sudden urge you feel to lick the bead of sweat running slowly down the side of it. 
You’re both still as the troopers pass, as if making even the tiniest movement might alert them to your presence. Poe is still breathing a little heavy, the air puffing against your cheek just another reminder of his closeness. You try to ignore it, ignore him, ignore how good his body feels against yours, how amazing he smells. In an effort to stave off the sudden urge you have to bury your face in his neck and breathe deep, you think of literally anything else: your bunkmate’s dirty socks, General Leia screaming at you, taking a blaster bolt to the shoulder— 
The sound of the troopers fades slowly and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief, backing up as much as you can in the small space.  
“That was a close one, huh?” Poe mutters, looking at you warily, as if you might attack him at any given moment. 
Your anger at him rekindles in your chest at the comment and you can’t stop yourself from punching him in the shoulder. He grunts, glaring at you half-heartedly as he rubs the spot where you hit him. 
“No, Dameron, that was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid,” you quietly scold, pointing at him in accusation. 
He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes and it sends another flare of anger through you.  
“Oh, you don’t think so?” you counter, stepping closer to him. “You think your little stunt helped us?” 
He glares at you, leaning back against the door with an annoyed look on his face. “We got what we came for, didn’t we?” 
“Yes, and we’d be out of here and on the ship right now if you’d just followed the plan.” 
“You mean followed your plan,” he mumbles almost petulantly. 
“Is that what this is about?” you ask, chuckling humorlessly as you take another step closer. “Still sore that the General went with my plan instead of yours, flyboy?” 
His jaw tightens and he moves even closer, his voice so low it’s almost a growl. “Your plan is the reason I even had to pull that ‘stunt’ in the first place, sweetheart.” 
It’s your turn to scoff now, rage flaring in your eyes as you move so close to him his chest brushes against yours. You ignore how incredible he smells, even after all the running you’ve done, ignore how good he looks this close— 
“You are unbelievable, do you know that? Absolutely unbelievable.” 
Poe opens his mouth to retort, a mischievous look in his eyes, but you cut him off by continuing, your voice a harsh whisper. “You’re reckless, hot-headed, impulsive—” 
His finger on your lips stops you, your eyes widening in both shock and rage. 
Unfortunately, you’re silent long enough for him to ask, “How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?” 
Your brow furrowing in confusion, lips parting as much as they can with his finger still pressed against them. Instinctively, your gaze falls to his mouth, eyes dragging over his plump bottom lip as your brain reminds you of all the times you’ve fantasized about a moment just like this one. You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks slightly in a smile and know you’ve somehow given him all the permission he needs. 
He leans in, spanning the meager distance between you as he pulls his hand away, tentatively pressing his lips to yours. He’s giving you a chance to push him away, you realize, to decide you don’t want this but…You do.  
You melt into him, pressing your body against his and pushing him back against the door. He groans softly, the sound going straight to your core and you wonder what else you could do to pull sounds like that from him.  
You hope he gives you a chance to find out. 
His hands cup your cheeks, holding you in place as he presses his tongue against the seam of your lips. You part them without resistance, shivering when he licks inside. The taste of him is divine, a mix of sweetness and spice and something so inherently Poe. You could spend hours, maybe even days, like this, just kissing him, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him. Already you can’t get enough, can feel your need for him clawing at the base of your spine as your fingers plunge into his soft, dark locks.  
You’re forced to break for air, foreheads pressed together as you both try to catch your breath. 
“This isn’t over, you know,” you pant, pulling back to shoot him what you hope is a stern look. 
He chuckles breathlessly, reaching out to trace the curve of your cheek with his knuckles, his lips quirking slightly when you unconsciously lean into the touch.  
“I’d be disappointed if it was, sweetheart.”
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖
��� Masterlist 🌟 fic-aversary masterlist 🌟
i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.
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kryptonitejelly · 2 years
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Flyboy | Mini-series | Masterlist
Flyboy | Mini-series | Masterlist Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader  Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings:  general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series (see chapter list below)
DISCLAIMER: all work posted here is purely fanfiction; it does not in any way purport to be an accurate representation of real life or the general workings of any institution.
Jake Seresin Masterlist
STATUS:
Series - complete
Flyboy universe burbs / one-shots / asks - ongoing (you can follow the tag “flyboy” / “flyboy universe” for related content; also because this masterlist is not always up to date)
Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?
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Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra @imagineyneyjr @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ive-got-more-wit @fuzzy-panda @helloimhereforabit @meowimakellysaurusrex @t-rexs @iangiemae @shawnsthighs @cxit-writes @shanimallina87 @dempy @mell-bell @saynotononsense @justsplendidd @dont-talk-me-down @the-cranck-hobbit @blindedbyyourgrace17 @fandom-life-12 @bxwitched @indynerdgirl @hope-love-equality2 @fangirlofallthings22 @alistocats @callsign-marlie @bellamy1998 @slayry @bladed-planes @turningtoclown @double-j @shanimallina87 @chiffondaydreams @capswife @averyhotchner @unordinare @smokey102 @tallrock35 (continued taglist here)
CHAPTERS: 
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Epilogue
FLYBOY UNIVERSE:
BLURBS
From asks
You wearing Jake’s clothes
Jake bringing you breakfast in the morning / Jake dirty dancing with you in the kitchen - NSFW; minors DNI
You and Jake visit Grandma Doris and Grace Seresin at Grandma Doris’ home where they dote on you
Jake comes home to a dance party of you, his mom, grandma, sisters and nieces and nephews outside around the fire pit of their Texan mansion
Lazy morning snuggles (with little clothing on) + a Grace Seresin and Grandma Doris sanctioned attack of the nieces and nephews
Jake sulks because travel for work without him (and choose to fly instead of taking the train) and Jake picks you up (a 5 sentence baby blurb)
Baking shenanigans with Jake
Lying in bed on a rainy day with Jake
Beach day with Jake where you are wearing his shirt as a cover up; he wraps you in his arms and drags you into the water with your legs wrapped around him; and says I love you (all around happy, squealing, sunshine vibes)
Grandma Doris meeting the baby for the first time with Jake
Jake supporting your pregnancy bump and being very happy with the way his hand / wedding band fits perfectly over it
Jake introducing baby girl to the rest of the team
Honeymoon vibes
Jake with his niece and nephew
College flyboy - you going to look for Jake in the football gym to go grab pizza
(Not a blurb; but a photo) Pre-wedding at Grandma Doris’ ranch vibes
Jake coming home from a 6 month deployment
Posing as a couple for your roommates’ girlfriend’s final year project with Jake (college Flyboy)
Jake taking you to the Naval Ball, and having flashbacks of that time he took you to prom + the time Jake took you to prom (high school Flyboy)
Jake pulling down your garter on your wedding day + garter toss
Non-asks
Heat Waves - Where you aren’t teenagers anymore, but Jake still has to sneak into your room through the window at night.
A bigger shower? - Where Jake wants to know if a wall to the shower can be knocked out.
When the realisation that you just got married hits you and Jake
College flyboy - where Jake helps you finish your gym set
ONE-SHOTS
Coming soon
THOUGHTS / HCs ON FLYBOY
Jake not able to go an hour without being inside you after you both have sex for the first time = Jake constantly thinking of you; you giving him a blowjob outside The Hard Deck - NSFW, minors DNI
ANON’S THOUGHTS / HCs ON FLYBOY
So, not official Flyboy universe material from me, but from the most wonderful anons who send me these thoughts / hcs about Flyboy <3 Some material below with my additional input as well.
Jake x Reader headcannons through the years
College flyboy headcannons
Slow dancing with Jake through the years
Javy being the ultimate hype man and friend to you and Jake + the continuation - Javy being the middle man when you and Jake fight
Thoughts about intimate, slow and sensual sex with Jake on the couch (with a smidge of fluff + a breeding kink)
Last updated: 4 September 2022
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firenati0n · 2 months
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roop's second fic is here! hope you enjoy <3 <3
An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat by firenati0n on ao3
T | 5k
Alex invites Henry to his Extremely Specific and Ethnic Friendsgiving dinner, issuing a stern warning—no beige foods and no colonizer behavior. So basically, Henry's screwed. In an effort to find the perfect recipe, Henry stumbles upon a popular TikTok chef who thirst traps from the neck down and flusters Henry to his core. But his food is banging, along with the bod. A recipe for feral disaster. Or, Alex is an anonymous thirst-trapping chef on TikTok. Henry is an amateur cook who needs a recipe for Friendsgiving. Alex knows Henry's watching. Henry doesn't know it's Alex. Shenanigans ensue.
tagging folks below the cut who seemed even remotely interested in this fjalskdfjldasf thank you for the love I LOVE YOU!!!!!! <3
xoxoxo roop
@priincebutt @bigassbowlingballhead @heybuddy-drabbles @inexplicablymine @ad-astra13 @onward--upward @duchessdepolignaca03 @futureseaempress @happiness-of-the-pursuit @tintagel-or-cockleshells @magicandarchery @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @gay-flyboys @celeritas2997 @bbreaddog @indestructibleheart @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @eusuntgratie @piratefalls @onthewaytosomewhere @anincompletelist @cha-melodius @anchoredarchangel @sherryvalli @getmehighonmagic @suseagull04 @candyspandemonium @little-star-2911-blog @ninzied @wordsofhoneydew @whimsymanaged @saturntheday @welcometololaland @rmd-writes @theprinceandagcd @england-would-fall @leaves-of-laurelin @bidoofenergy @myheartalivewrites @ships-to-sail @firstprince-history-huh
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topgun-imagines · 11 months
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What Can I Say?
Requested: yes
Summary: Jake gives you news that you never would have expected.
Word count: 0.7k
Warnings: none
Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x fem!reader
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“Please, say something, Sweets,” Jake pleaded with you. “Anything, please.” The two of you had been standing in silence for the past five minutes. There was a stunned look on your face as you stared at his anxious expression. You honestly had no idea what to say to your friend's shocking news.
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The constant ringing of your doorbell drew you up from your couch with a groan. “For God's sake, I’m coming!” You called before you ripped your door open, almost hard enough to pull it off the hinges. Just as you were about to rip the person a new one, your face softened at the sight of Jake. The pilot was standing on your front porch with an anxious smile. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“Hey, darlin,’” He grinned slightly. The nickname almost made you blush. Jake had been calling you nicknames like that ever since the two of you became friends. “Can I come in?” With a nod, you stepped aside and allowed Jake into your home.
Making his way to your living room, Jake stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. Your eyebrows furrowed at his nervous state. “Everything alright, Flyboy?” That put a small smile on his face.
Jake sucked in a sharp breath as his eyes drifted downward. You waited patiently for him to being speaking. “I just,” He started, nerves shining through his voice more prominent than the sun. “I really needed to talk to you.” Now his words were scaring you. Throughout your friendship, the two of you hardly fought. Sure, there were a few occasions when you would have disagreements, but you could always push through them easily. Now, you had no idea what to expect.
You stepped forward, setting a hand on his exposed forearm. The muscle flexed under your touch. “Jake? What’s going on?” Watching him with worried eyes, you waited for the pilot to explain himself.
When his hands grasped yours, you sensed the severity of the matter even more than before. His eyes were wide as he decided on his words. As he squeezed your hands, you began to prepare for the worst.
“Well Sweets,” He started, a soft but dazzling smile taking over his face. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” Laughing quietly to himself, Jake’s eyes lock with yours. There was a look in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. One that almost looked like… love? His hands squeezed yours. “I’m so in love with you.” He softly exhaled, almost breathlessly. It was so quiet that you could hardly hear him. But you knew what he said.
Over the ringing in your ears, it was hard to tell what he said next.
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That brought you to where you were now. Jake’s hands were still holding yours, only now, there was a look of terror on his face, as if he had just made the worst mistake possible. Your wide eyes were fixed on his nervous expression as you processed the information.
Your best friend was in love with you. You never would have guessed that that’s what he had to tell you. Here you were, prepared for the worst, and Jake tells you something that you had been waiting for him to say for years.
When you and Jake first became friends, you found it hard to not fall for the cocky pilot. You had tried, no matter how much crap Nat gave you, you had tried. And yet, you couldn’t help but fall for the man. Without noticing, you began to loosen your hold on Jake’s hands. His face fell. He should have known that this would only make things complicated between you two. The pilot expected you to pull away and distance yourself from him.
What he didn’t expect was for you to launch yourself into his arms and curl around his torso. You ginned into the soft fabric of his T-shirt. Slowly, Jake’s arms wound around your smaller frame. His chin rested on the top of your head. This may not have been what he was expecting, but he sure wasn’t complaining.
You tilted your head up, eyes locking with his with a wide smile. Jake returned your smile, the weight on his shoulders lifting as you squeezed your arms around his waist. “I love you, too, Flyboy.” His arms tightened around you, chin dropping to rest on your head with a loving smile. He loved you so, so much.
a/n: Thank you all for reading! Requests are open.
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dameronscopilot · 6 months
Note
hiiii this the cocktober hotline?? started thinking abt blowing poe when he's in his flight suit and I need to be reviveddddd (sorry if this sent twice I got a message that it didn't go through the first time)
anything for you, mack 🧡
poe dameron x reader
— flight suit kink, blowjob, face fucking
18+
“Baby—“
“Relax, flyboy.”
Poe lets out an undignified groan when you roughly drag a hand through his dark, messy curls, fingers tangling in the back as you pull hard enough to drag his lust-blown gaze toward the ceiling of the hangar. He exhales, letting his body sag against the X-wing’s ladder as your deft fingers work open the seam that runs down the middle of his flight suit.
Exhaust, oil, dirt, sweat—you inhale deeply, smirking as you palm the hard length waiting between the pilot’s legs, straining against the thick, orange material. There’s a dark spot of precum leaking through, a product of you grinding against him moments before while his tongue was down your throat.
He’d protested when you pulled away, your lips not nearly swollen enough for his liking yet. But the feeling of his erection pressing insistently against your thigh left your mouth watering with the need to put them to another use.
Poe’s skin is still warm and slick from the temperature in the cockpit, body still subject to the echoes of adrenaline vibrating through his nerves. His voice is still a little raw from barking orders over the comms.
He’s a fucking sight to behold in the sky, all focus and precision and cocky confidence.
But he’s wholly pliant here, wholly yours. Slumped against the side of his T-70, biting his lower lip and choking out your name as you let his flushed, leaking cock spring free and begin to slide his fat shaft into the damp warmth of your mouth.
The stiff material of his flight suit rubs against your chin as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, moaning at the salty taste of cum and sweat coating your mouth. And just because you can, you make no effort to be anything less than sloppy in the way you hollow your cheeks and repeatedly engulf his length between your lips, face wet with saliva.
He digs the heels of his boots into the ground, the ladder creaking in protest as he grips it tightly when you begin mouthing at and sucking on his balls. The dark orange spot on his suit spreads, soaked through with spit and precum.
Glancing up at Poe, you watch the unsteady rise and fall of his chest as he stares down at you—on your knees for him, lips slick and swollen. He brings the calloused fingertips of one hand to the side of your face, caressing the curve of your jaw. With the other, he rubs his cock against the outside of your cheek before dragging the tip over your mouth.
He waits.
You nod, body flushing warm with arousal that seeps heavily down your spine.
Poe pushes his dick past your lips once more, and you relax your jaw as he sinks in deep against your tongue and begins to fuck your mouth. Far too worked up from your prior ministrations, there’s nothing steady about the way he plunges in and out, hips stuttering in a cacophonous sham of a rhythm. You clench your thighs together hard, feeling the arousal pooling wetly in your underwear, and moan shamelessly around his shaft.
Cum floods your mouth as Poe bites his fist to muffle the groan of pleasure that accompanies his climax, spilling out past your lips and dripping down your chin.
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thedroneranger · 1 year
Text
Sending Vibes
Robert "Bob" Floyd
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Précis: Near or far, Bob will send you vibes wherever you are.
Note: The Bob Fucks agenda is a like a drug. I got one bump and needed another. This is a companion to Vibe Check but can also be read on its own. Enjoy!
Warnings: 18+ only, explicit.
Word count: 1.6k
A frown downturned your lips, and your arms slipped from under the blankets to the pillows above your head. A deep sigh left your body as you thought about how much better your solo session would be if it weren’t solo.
You rarely masturbated alone. Hell, you rarely masturbated at all, because you finally landed the flyboy you had your eyes on all this time: Bob Floyd. 
In the months since Bob stumbled upon you pleasuring yourself in your bunk and decided to help out, you two fucked like rabbits. You had managed to find every nook unseen by a camera on base, and you both knew each others’ homes like the back of your hands. In both houses, there wasn’t a surface you hadn’t fornicated on.
Although you and Bob had yet to define the relationship, it was obvious to the two of you that you were only seeing each other. It was also obvious no one else was going to do it for you quite like each other.
All the sessions between the sheets led you to spending more nights and mornings together. At some point, you’d learned Bob was quite the coffee connoisseur. Part of his morning routine included coffee from his favorite cafe a few blocks from his house. 
At first, he would sneak out of bed for a coffee run, returning to wake you with a freshly brewed cup. Now you would join him, sitting together outside the cafe in the late morning before it was too hot to be outside. You had forewarned Bob your palate hadn’t expanded beyond burnt coffee and sugary lattes from coffee chains. Each time, in earnest, he would explain a feature of coffee: caffeine level, intensity, roast. It made your chest tight to listen to him nerd out.
For the past few weeks, your sexcapades and domestic routine had been on hold. Bob had been summoned to a naval base across the country to help prepare pilots for a classified mission.
So far, Bob’s absence didn’t just make your heart grow fonder, it also made your core ache. One of the reasons you and Bob were compatible is you were both always ready to go. You were perpetually wet, and one look from you had Bob pitching a tent.
Without Bob physically present, you had been spending evenings in your bed or his—someone had to water his plants while he was away—with your favorite toys. Since Bob was on another base across the country and not tucked away on a carrier somewhere in the middle of an ocean, you would trade steamy texts, photos and the occasional after dark video call.
Laying in Bob’s bed, wearing only his Academy t-shirt, you were basking in the glow of your first orgasm. Already gearing up for another, you scrolled through the audio erotica app you loved so much that you bought a subscription. Your toys were bluetooth compatible with the app, which added another trick to your bag to keep you busy.
Of course, an app update became available while you were browsing, so you took a couple minutes to let it complete. A pop-up took over your screen when you reopened the app. As you read it, your lips pulled into a smile.
Bob could now control your vibrator from anywhere.
Your mind was already racing, deciding how you wanted to introduce the new feature to him. Fortunately, you had already sent a few pictures, which led to a promise for him to video call you later. 
The idea of Bob manning your vibrator while you had phone sex had you squeezing your thighs together. Your wand was the perfect choice. Making sure it was connected to the app, you tapped around until you secured the share code. 
Kneeling on the bed, knees wide, you held the wand at your naked apex and snapped a photo. Happy with the result, you added the app code and a message, You're in control, before pressing send.
In less than 15 minutes, Bob’s contact photo of him sporting a cappuccino mustache lit up your phone. You bit your lip as you accepted the call. He didn’t even give you time to greet him. “You’ve been teasing me all day, and you’re giving me control of your vibrator? You’re playing with fire, darlin’.”
A smile crossed your lips. “Burn me, Bobby,” you challenged him. You didn’t even have the chance to vocalize your next thought as the vibrator you’d left in your lap buzzed.
“I don’t have much time before someone comes looking for me,” Bob explained. “Now, I want you to slide your pretty pussy along that wand like you do to me when you’re being a cock tease. Prop up the phone so I can see all of you.” 
Bob moved his phone so you could see him, sitting on the edge of his bunk. His t-shirt off and flight suit pushed around his knees. Free hand fisting his hard-on. Pre-cum already oozing.
You froze for a minute, your mouth slightly open. “Close your mouth, darlin’.” Bob brought you back to the moment, bringing the phone back to his face. “Now, do as I say. I want to see you come before I have to hang up.”
“Yes, Lieutenant,” you responded with a smirk. Bob felt his whole being vibrate at your words. See, Bobby would never admit it, but he absolutely got off on being called lieutenant when he was ordering you around. 
He watched as you set the phone in a place that gave him a wide angle view. Then, you placed yourself in the middle of the bed with your wand between your legs so the head was pressed against you.
“That’s it, darlin’,” Bob cooed as he watched you and pumped his length, swiping his thumb over the head. He positioned his phone so you also had a full view of him.
Without warning, he turned on the vibrator, which made you jump. You glared at him while he threw a smirk at you. Hands on your thighs, you found a rhythm that had your lips parted and barely audible gasps of pleasure spilling out. Bob was showering you with praise, and you noticed his hips falling into pace with yours.
In one smooth motion, you flipped Bob’s shirt over your head, leaving you completely naked. Although you weren’t close enough to see, you knew Bob’s irises were nearly eclipsing his pupils. Hell, neither of you thought it possible, but he was sure he felt his dick stiffen more at the sight of you.
A salacious moan escaped you when Bob changed the vibration pattern. Fortunately, you were able to take it in stride, tilting your head back, closing your eyes and moving your hands to knead your breasts. “Bobby.” His name was long, drawn out as it left your lips.
“C’mon, darlin’. Come for me.” Bob’s voice was low and restrained—he was absolutely holding himself back from finishing. 
“Bobby, I need you.” You paused. “I need your help.” Your voice was whiny, pleading for attention you already had. Your gaze caught his as you leaned toward the phone, still rocking against the vibrator.
Bob picked up his phone, so his face filled the screen. “Lay back, darlin’. I want to see all of you.” Soothed by his voice, you settled into the pillows, awaiting his next instruction. “Now press the wand to yourself.” Again, you followed his direction. “Don’t move it.” Your hips jerked when he upped the speed of the wand without warning. “Don’t move it,” he repeated. “Let me do the work.”
With that, you let your eyes close and your head relax into the pillows. Bob’s voice filled your ears as your entire body began to come to a boil. Your breath shortened and your abdomen tightened. Finally, you peaked. 
Seconds later, you heard Bob’s breathing pattern change as he also finished. You looked at the phone to find him laying back on his bunk with cum pooling on his stomach. “Mhmm, I wish I could clean you up.” You picked up your phone to get a better look at him.
He grabbed his phone and brought it closer to his face. “I wish I could be inside you. So warm, velvety…” he trailed off.
“Bobby.” Warning heavy in your tone. “If you don’t stop, you’re gonna have to find another 15 minutes right now.” His crooked grin appeared. 
For a moment, you just sat in silence, in each other’s virtual presence. Bob was the first to speak. “Well, darlin’, I should get cleaned up.” You looked him in the eyes. “Glad we have a new toy to play with.” His smile reappeared. 
“Me, too,” you added. “I’ll leave it connected so you can keep sending vibes.” You winked at him. Bob’s smile grew impossibly larger. With one final goodbye, you ended the call. 
Sitting in his bed, you were startled when your wand vibrated, and then your phone. On your phone, Bob’s name was there with a new message: Just a quick vibe check. You laughed recalling the first time you had used a vibrator together. 
Hopping out of bed, you replied to Bob. As you shuffled to the kitchen to get a drink and feed yourself, you browsed the web for a welcome back gift. A bluetooth-enabled vibrating cockring seemed like it could be well received. You pondered it for less than a minute before adding it to your cart and purchasing. 
A perfect way to keep the vibes going.
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topguncortez · 1 year
Note
“you know that’s not the case. she adores you.” with iceman or hangman please’!! (I love my little blondies 🥺)
listen I know the prompts list says "Best Friends with Benefits" but the idea popped into my head and it's not leaving.
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pairing: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x female!Mitchell synopsis: Reader is a single mom and Ice is worried her daughter doesn't like him warnings: cursing, tears, a lil dash of angst prompts list!
Ice wasn't sure what to do. He had thought that everything was going fine. When he had met you, he had no idea that you were Maverick's little sister. To him, you were just the gorgeous girl at the bar and Ice wanted to get to know you. But, like Maverick, you didn't see past the flyboy act and promptly put Ice in his place, which made him fall even harder for you.
Ice had asked you out a total of fifteen times before you finally said yes. You had you reservations and rightfully so. It wasn't just yourself that you had to look out for, you had your adorable daughter Finley to look out for as well.
Finley was the most adorable four year old had ever laid your eyes on. She had green eyes like you and your brother, and dark hair. She was smart, and kind, and loved to play dress up. You were nervous to go out with Ice because of her. Most men like Ice weren't ready for a family, or didn't want one at all.
It wasn't until after the third date that you told Ice about Finely, and it wasn't until after the third month of dating you let him meet her. Maverick had demanded that he was there when Ice met his niece, which you allowed. It was quite the scene to watch Maverick's small frame try to square up with Ice's nearly 6'2 self. But just like you, Ice fell in love with Finley the first time he met her.
Now, the two of you had been together for almost a year. The both of you were ready to take the next step, of having Ice move in with you. Finley had seemed excited at first, until she didn't. One night she even told you flat out that she didn't want Ice to move in. You told her that wasn't very kind to say and she stomped her feet down the hall. You had pushed back Ice's moving in date, still letting him stay over though to somewhat help Finley get acclimated to Ice being there.
And that's when the real trouble started.
First, she put a red sock in the laundry with all of Ice's white work t-shirts, turning the whole batch pink. Next, she put syrup in his shampoo bottle. The last straw was when she scribbled on his flight plans he needed for his promotion board. You had yelled at her and set her in timeout, which caused her to fight and scream as you told her to sit in the corner.
"I HATE YOU MOMMY!" Finley screamed at the top of her lungs from the kitchen. You sighed and sat down on the couch, rubbing her temples. Ice sat down quietly next to you, having stayed out of the way as you dealt with Finley. He never overstepped when it came to you parenting her, helping out and filling in when he was needed.
"I'm sorry," Ice said, grabbing your hand, "I made it a bigger deal, I can get copies made tomorrow and fix-"
"Your promotion board is tomorrow," You said, running your hands through your hair.
"I can wake up early and get it. Babe, it's really no big deal," You shook your head and Ice let out a sharp breath, "I don't want to make things harder on you. Maybe. . . maybe it's not a good thing. . . right now, for us?"
"What are you saying?" You snapped your head up to look at your boyfriend. Ice bit his lip as he processed his words.
"Y/N, Finley doesn't like me."
"Yes she does!"
"She's been having issues since the day you said I was moving in. She doesn't want me here and I don't want to make things worse for her or for you."
"You know that's not the case! She adores you, Tom! She wants you here as much as I do," You could feel your throat starting to constrict as you grabbed Ice's hands, "Please, Ice, we both love you."
"And I love you both too," Tom sniffled as he felt tears in his eyes, "You know I would do anything and everything for the both of you. . . Which is why I have to do this. . . I'm breaking up with you."
"Tom-"
"I can't put this stress on you and Finley. It's not fair. I will always be around for you two though, whenever you need me to," You nodded and looked down at your conjoined hands. Tom leaned forward and placed a kiss on your forehead. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of his lips on your skin, before pulling back and heading for the door.
You sat on the couch for a moment, and let out a soft sob as the timer in the kitchen went off. You wiped your tears and went to go get your daughter. You hadn't noticed that the house was quiet now, and Finley had stopped screaming. She was still sitting in the corner, but now facing you and a look of guilt in her eye.
"I'm sorry, mommy," She said softly.
"It's okay, baby," You kneeled down in front of her and wiped a tear from her eye, "Come on, let's go get you in the tub and in pajamas."
Finley nodded and took your hand. As she passed the front door, her eyebrows furrowed, "Where's Iceman's bag? It's always right here." She pointed to the spot where Ice's backpack usually sat. You closed your eyes and shook your head.
"Not here, c'mon baby."
--- --- ---
It took Finley less than a day to realize something was wrong. One, it was a Tuesday and she was getting ice cream with Uncle Mav, something that only happened on Thursdays after ballet class. Two, Iceman's bag hadn't been back in his spot since Sunday and he hadn't been there to read "The Rainbow Fish" after bath time (he did the voices better than you).
"Is Iceman sick?" Finley asked Maverick.
"No? He's been at work. Why do you ask, shortcake?" Maverick had been calling Finley that since the day she was born.
"Mommy has been reading The Rainbow Fish."
Maverick sighed. You had told him about the breakup, which was part of the reason for the early ice cream date so you could have some time alone, and wasn't sure how to tell Finley about it.
"Well Finnie. . . Your mommy and Iceman are going through what grownups call a 'break up'."
"Why?"
"Because your mommy and Ice needed to. . . for you."
"Me?" She asked, her eyes growing wide, "Was it me that caused mommy to cry the other night?"
"Yeah, FinnBug, it was," Maverick said honestly, "You haven't been nice to Mr. Iceman and it hurt his feelings to see you and your mommy so sad, so he decided to do what was best for you."
"But Mommy is sad!"
"I know, but it's only temporary. She'll be okay soon."
Finley thought for a moment. Maverick watched that crease in her forehead, between her eyebrows, it was the same one that he and you got when you'd think.
"I need to say sorry. Can you help me?"
Maverick nodded and wiped a bit of ice cream from Finley's face. She then told Maverick that she needed to make a card and get a package of mint gum (Ice's favorite) and then go to base to apologize. Maverick followed through on his orders (like the four year old was some two star admiral) and held Finley's hand as they walked through the doors of the hangar.
"Hey! Shortcake!"
"Uncle Slider!" Finley exclaimed as the tall RIO picked her up and tickled her, "No, Uncle Slider! You'll ruin my card!"
"A card? It's not my birthday, or Uncle Mavs, or Uncle Wolfs-"
"No! It's for Mr. Iceman!" Slider looked up at Maverick, who shrugged. The RIO set Finley back down and she smoothed out her dress, "Now, where is he?" She demanded, tilting her head all the way up to be able to look at the man.
"In his office, shortcake," Slider smiled at her and moved out of the way as she marched to his office, "Now that one. . . she's going to be trouble when she joins."
"You mean if, Slider, if, she joins," Maverick commented and followed after his niece.
Finley took a deep breath before knocking on the door, hearing a quiet 'come in' after it. She stood on her tiptoes as she turned the knob and walked into his office. Ice was working on redrawing his flight plans and looked up briefly, but did a double take seeing those beautiful green eyes.
"Finley? What are you doing here? Wh-who brought-"
"Uncle Mav did," Finley said and then held the card out, "For you."
Ice stood up from his seat and walked over to her. He took the card from her, and opened it. He instantly smiled seeing the crayon drawn stick figures and scribbled writing. Below her writing in pencil were the translated words, probably from Maverick.
'Dear Mr. Iceman, I'm sorry I was mean to you. You make Me and Mommy happy. We love you. From Finnie'
"You drew this?" Iceman asked the little girl, who nodded.
"It's me, mommy, uncle Mav, Mr. George the neighbor, Garfield the cat, Uncle Goose in heaven and you."
Ice smiled brightly and kneeled down on the ground, "C'mere." Finley ran into his open arms and hugged him tightly. He squeezed her and placed a kiss on the top of her head, "I love you both, Finley. So much."
"Will you come home?" Finley looked up at him with big green puppy dog eyes.
"Do you want me too?" Finley nodded enthusiastically. Iceman chuckled, "Well, I guess we better get going." Ice stood up from the ground and walked back to his desk to gather his things. He picked up his backpack and put it over one shoulder, before taking Finley's hand and heading for the parking lot.
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harringtonswriting · 9 months
Note
Omg Bree that list!! I would love to read 25. goodnight kisses with Bradley?🥺
ahhhh thank you so much Nova!! <3 i am SO sorry it took me so long to get this finished, but i hope you enjoy it!! god this was so adorable to write and i really, REALLY appreciate you picking this one bc it was such a cute idea <3
...
This was the best first date you’d had in a long time. Probably the best first date you’ve ever been on, if you’re being honest, but that’s not something you’re going to admit to your date. You didn’t want to give his ego that big of a boost this early, and also didn’t want him to think about your dating history being any sadder than he might already think it is.
Bradley Bradshaw had asked you out the night you met him at the Hard Deck, where he was drinking with his friends and you’d been convinced by yours to come out for some drinks and the promise of some very pretty Naval officers to look at. Which, you were happy to find, there were plenty of. Bradley included.
You’d thought he was just another good-looking flyboy when he’d walked up to you at the bar top, though his endearing smile and his outrageous taste in fashion had you intrigued enough to say yes; you had no idea how he still managed to look attractive wearing bright blue and magenta, but that coupled with his 70s-esque mustache and very pretty, big brown eyes ended up winning you over. You’d put your number in his phone, let him buy you a drink, and your friends teased you for the better part of an hour about giving your number to the first pilot who talked to you. But there was something special about Bradley, something genuine and funny and maybe you were a little tipsy, but you didn’t regret giving him your number.
Bradley messaged you the following afternoon to ask you to dinner this coming Friday night, and after the initial awkwardness (he’d responded to you with just a thumbs up emoji and you’d used maybe a few too many exclamation points), the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of texting back and forth. You find yourself enjoying talking with him, and looking forward to seeing his name pop up on your phone.
All too quickly, though, Friday night arrives and he picks you up in what is obviously a very old, but very well loved, truck. He’s got sunglasses on, big mirrored aviators, but no Hawaiian shirt tonight (he’d later tell you that he’d received advice that he should wear something a little more toned down for the first date, and you couldn’t say that a black t-shirt and jeans didn’t suit him just as well as what he’d been wearing the night you met him). He’d lifted his sunglasses off his face, clipping them on the front of his shirt as he got out of his truck, and a wide grin split across his face as he caught sight of you coming out of your house.
“You look amazing,” he says, and the words come out loud and earnest–it’s a genuine compliment, and his smile is infectious to boot. You smile as you return the sentiment.
“Not so bad yourself. I like this look,” you tell him, and you see him puff his chest out just a bit. As you walk towards him, he reaches into his truck and comes back out with a bouquet of sunflowers tied with a yellow ribbon. He holds them out to you, and you take them from his hands.
“These are for you,” he says, and you look down at the flowers. They’re beautiful, the loveliest shade of yellow from soaking up the warmth and love of the sun. “I didn’t know what you liked, but they reminded me of your smile, so I hope these are okay.” Bradley’s just a little bashful, and you rest one hand on his forearm.
“They’re beautiful,” you tell him, and it’s the truth. They are, and the fact that they reminded him of you? You don’t know how he can say that with a straight face, and if it came from anyone else you might be embarrassed. You still are, a little, but you’re just a little pleased, too, that he’s been thinking about you. You take the flowers inside, quickly putting them in a tall glass of water before heading back out to where Bradley and the Bronco are waiting. You head around to the passenger side door to pull it open… but it won’t budge. You try again, but still no dice. Oh, god, did you break his car? This is a classic, right? That’s what a lot of older cars are. He gets you beautiful flowers and you break his car. Wonderful. You look at Bradley, and he grimaces. Oh no.
“The, uh, the door sticks sometimes. Lemme get it for you,” he says, coming around to fiddle with the handle before the door pops open. You feel some relief, then, knowing that you didn’t just bust his car, and you climb in and he shuts it behind you. Then he’s getting in on his side, and the two of you head out to the restaurant he’d told you about for dinner.
It was a place that Hangman had recommended, Bradley told you, but he only decided to take that recommendation seriously when Phoenix, Payback, and Fanboy had all confirmed it was good. And you’d have to remember to thank Bradley’s friends the next time you see them, because they were right. It was a small place, not too far from the Hard Deck, with the best food you’d had in a while. The atmosphere was friendly and it was busy enough that you and Bradley had plenty of time to talk between your server’s check ups, but not too busy that you felt rushed or couldn’t get a table.
The two of you got through the basic first date talk pretty quickly; he’s a much better listener than the last few guys you’d gone out with, and actually asked you some questions when you were telling him about some work drama you’d been dealing with. You enjoy the way his big, beautiful brown eyes crinkle at the corners with crows feet when he smiles, and how he scrunches his nose when he laughs. He also talks with his hands, you’ve come to realize, and he nearly knocks his glass of water off the table no less than four times as he’s telling you a story about what had happened at work earlier today.
“Anyway, so the radio was totally shot, right? So I’m inverted above Coyote, Phoenix and Bob are freaking out, there’s no way to communicate and we still have half a training exercise to complete. Can you believe that?” Bradley has his hands in an awkward position, trying to give you a visual as to what things had looked like. You can tell by the way he talks that he absolutely loves what he does, and he loves being able to fly. And there are very few things more attractive than seeing a man get so excited to tell you all about how he managed to get his plane upside down and scare the shit out of his friends and co-workers when no one was able to talk to each other in the air.
Dinner is over all too quickly after that, though, but thankfully nothing gets spilled during the rest of Bradley’s animated descriptions of his completely serious job duties. After you’d left the restaurant, since it was still light out, Bradley suggested that the two of you take a walk together along the beach behind the Hard Deck. He swore up and down that watching the sunsets from there were phenomenal, and, not wanting the date to end just yet, you agreed to go with him. He drove you there, and the two of you left your shoes in the back of his truck while you walked along the sand, continuing your conversation from dinner.
Bradley was absolutely right about the sunset, too; it was gorgeous, seeing all the blues and pinks and oranges, and every colour in-between, painting the sky in front of you and the water softly splashing against the shore. The two of you stop walking and talking as the sun hits the horizon, the cool water gently lapping against your feet and washing the sand all around. You swear you feel the back of Bradley’s hand ghost against the back of yours as the two of you stand there, side by side.
There’s a soft breeze blowing, putting a little chill in the air, and you find yourself shuffling a little closer to Bradley. Warmth radiates off of him, and as you look at him out of the corner of your eye and see him bathed in the burnished glow of the setting sun and how it gleams in his eyes, you think all the warmth and light of that sun must have been soaked up into him. And the more time you spend here with him on the beach, the happier you are that you didn’t let the date end after dinner–and that you gave him your number in the first place.
Once the sun has fully dipped below the horizon, the two of you make your way back to Bradley’s truck as the night sky faded from dusky twilight to a deep blue. You do keep a few steps behind him, though, to admire the way he fills out his t-shirt and jeans from the back. He’d once again popped the passenger door open for you, and closed it for you before he made his way back over to the driver’s side. Then, once he’s situated in the driver’s seat, he’s peeling out of the parking lot and heading back to your place.
The windows are rolled down as Bradley’s truck speeds along the road, and the cool breeze from earlier is back and blowing through the cab of the truck. The drive passes by all too quickly, with you needing to give Bradley directions the closer you get, and before you know it he’s pulling into your driveway. He parks the truck and turns the engine off. A beat of silence passes between the two of you before you turn to him and smile.
“Thank you for tonight,” you tell him, and you catch a flash of his teeth as he smiles.
“I should be thanking you. I’m glad you let me take you out.” He’s so earnest, maybe just a bit too earnest, but you have a feeling that he’s not quite as slick as some of his friends had been at the bar when you’d met. Which wasn’t entirely a bad thing; as pretty as the green eyed blond who’d been chatting up your best friend had been, he seemed just a little too full of himself. Bradley was much more your type (though you’d probably wait to admit that, that’s more of a post-third date kind of thing, if you got a third date, that is. You hope you do).
Though you don’t really want to date to end, judging by the time glowing on the dashboard of the truck (which Bradley had insisted was only thirteen minutes behind and it had been since his father owned it, and was lovingly referred to as running on ‘Goose time’, which you hoped he’d explain in the future), it was getting pretty late and you weren’t sure if he had to work in the morning. If he did, then he probably should have been at home a while ago.
“I should probably let you get going.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your bag, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you almost saw a pout cross Bradley’s face. But he nods, unbuckling his own seatbelt.
“At least let me walk you to your door,” he says, and before you can protest he’s popping open his door and you watch him jog around the front of his truck to your side. He fiddles with the door handle for a minute before he gets it open, and when he does he offers you his other hand to help you out of the Bronco. You take it, and once you’re clear he closes the truck door–and doesn’t let go of your hand as he walks all the way down the driveway, up your front steps, and stops in front of your door.
The two of you stand on the porch, his calloused hand still clasped around your own as the dim, yellow light shining above your door illuminates the space around you. A few moths are bobbing and weaving around said light, a few of them getting a bit too close and dropping down before flying back up again in an endless cycle.
“Is it alright if I kiss you goodnight?” he asks, voice a little huskier than it had been all night as he breaks the silence, and you feel cool relief flood through you when you nod because yes, absolutely, you definitely want this man to kiss you, and it feels good to know he wants to kiss you, too.
You hadn’t been quite sure what to expect, though; would he be eager? Pushy? Sloppy?
Thankfully he’s none of those things–sure, Bradley’s lips are more than a little chapped, but that’s not surprising given what he does for work. But they’re also warm, and the gentle pressure behind the kiss has you closing your eyes and leaning into him. His mustache tickles against your skin, brushing against it as his mouth works against yours.
When you pull back due to the rather unfortunate need that your body has for oxygen, you take a moment to scan his face in the dim porch light. He’s got scars on his cheek, chin, and neck, you realize, and they gleam almost silver as you take them in. There’s a tiny smattering of barely there freckles that dot his nose, and one of his deep brown curls is hanging loose and slightly over his forehead. You wonder what it would be like to reach up and brush it away, but decide that the first date maybe isn’t the right time for that. His eyes are crinkled at the corner, crow’s feet softening his deep brown eyes as he looks down at you.
“That was… wow,” he tells you, which is probably pretty close to what you’d have said, because he’s not wrong. “I mean, better than just wow, but this is probably where I should get going before I make a total fool of myself. Thanks again for tonight.” He squeezes your hand one more time before he’s turning and stepping back off your porch to head towards his truck. You dig your keys out of your bag and unlock your door.
“Get home safe,” you call after him, and he waves back at you over his shoulder with a loud laugh. You step inside after you watch him get into the driver’s side, and close and lock your door as you hear the Bronco speed off into the night.
And about half an hour later, while you’re laying in bed, your phone screen lights up with a notification from Bradley–he’s home safe, he just wanted to let you know so that you don’t worry about him, and he’d love to take you out again, if that’s something you want. You look over at the sunflowers on your dresser, yellow ribbon still tied around them, and you can’t help the smile on your face as you tell him a second date is more than alright with you.
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edutainer2022 · 23 days
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It's a little two-part glimpse into Dad Jeff going away into the sky. And Scotty being not happy about it. Baby Virgil features briefly too. Jeff Tracy tells himself things that tide him over more difficult times (but are not necessarily true).
SEPARATION ANXIETY
It was unbearable. The little face of the boy in his arms was wrought with boundless grief. Bright blue eyes full of tears and fear.
"Daddy, no gooooo! No gooooo!"
Tiny hands were clutching the collar of his uniform. The boy's voice was choking on sobs and Jeff felt his heart being ripped out. He was due at the base for a pick up and relocation for training before the Moon mission. He was a breath away from calling in his resignation right then and there and never leaving his son ever again. He forced himself to exhale and hoisted the child higher, bringing their forheads together. That gave Jeff a chance to blink away tears of his own:
"It's okay, Scotty. It's okay. Daddy will be back soon. I have a very important job for you, Bluejay. Look after Mommy and Virgie, when I'm gone, okay? Can you do that for me?"
The child's sobs halted for a moment it took him to nod very earnestly. Jeff leaned in to kiss the boy's forehead and then kiss away the tears from the blotchy little face as best he could. He turned to his wife with an apologetic smile.
Lucy was hovering in the doorway all this time, ready to intervene. Dad's departure for the Moon was a matter of wide-eyed wonder and endless enthusiasm till it was actually time for Jeff to leave. Then it quickly dissolved into a Greek tragedy. Her own hands were full with the baby. Little Virgie didn't yet understand what was happening, but he developed an uncanny ability to pick up his brother's moods. So to echo Scotty's desperate pleas, the baby's tears were now inconsolable.
Scotty settled to hug Dad's neck, so Jeff beaconed his wife with Virgie to step into the embrace. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he reached to kiss the baby.
"Are you really gonna be okay?"
She smiled up at him. So beautiful.
"We'll miss you like crazy, Flyboy. But we'll be alright. We're in good hands."
She lifted a hand to rub soothing circles on Scotty's back. The baby calmed down too and looked ready for a nap. Jeff gave himself extra minutes to just hold them all together. He didn't know yet he was already holding three sons in that embrace. Baby Johnny was to arrive while he was still thousands of miles away on the Moon. But in that moment he needed to capture the perfect memory of balance and fulfillment that would tide him over a long night in space. They were going to be alright.
***
It was unthinkable. The whole situation was his worst nightmare come true. The hijacked Zero-X was obviously speeding up and overheating. He ran a quick math and the fallout would quite easily cause an extinction of life on the planet. Unacceptable - his sons lived on that planet. His mother and friends. What made matters worse was giving in to Scott's big blue pleading eyes to let him come with him in One and watch the T-drive launch. Little Allie definitely learned to step up his puppy eyes game from the best. So Jeff was now stuck with the impossible variables of his son in the blast zone and One's still untested autopilot.
"Scott, I need you to take over the controls for me!"
He was halfway out of the pilot seat, leaving One on hover. Bright blue eyes, flooded with horror, shot up at him from where Scott was adjusting the harness by the cargo doors (oh, goodness, the boy was actually prepping to board Zero-X himself!)
"Dad! You can't go down alone!"
There it was. Daddy, no gooo! Jeff had to brace himself to enter full Commander mode.
"I need you to follow Zero-X flight path, align in formation. Once I board the hull, you will bank and scout the possible fallout zone perimeter in a thousand miles radius. I need you to shoo, tow or scare away anything that will be flying or floating there, understood?"
Jeff was sorely tempted to set the milage at a farther distance (as far and as fast away as possible, just fly away, Bluejay!), but he couldn't risk Scott questioning his intent in the moment. Blue eyes were still flooded with disbelief, pleading and barely concealed tears.
"Dad, please! Let me come with you! You'll need help!"
Daddy, no goooo!
"That's an order, Thunderbird!"
When he'd come to in the Zero-X wreck, in the middle of the galactic nowhere, and for endless years to come, he'd try and soothe himself with the knowledge Scott obeyed the order and got safely away from the blast. From that point on Jeff would try to convince himself he was not worried. Scotty knew what his job was. He'd look after his brothers and Grandma. They would be alright.
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redfurrycat · 9 months
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🐓Navy - Not A Pilot!Bradley Bradshaw Fic Recs🐓
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Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕
Ao3 Authors: Barnes_Brain, Dandeliondick, Elliot, Flyingfightingfishy, ForASecondThereWedWon, Haridwar, Jeston17, LetPeteBeMaverick, Renai_chan, SaintClaire, SunMonTue, ToukoJalorda003.
Note. Feel free to drop any recs you may have that fit the recs list.
Any ship (and rating) is welcome! 🥰
Navy - Not A Pilot!Jake Seresin > Not Navy - Still A Flyboy At Heart
Trouble With Comms by ForASecondThereWedWon {E}
WSO / Hangster
Bradley gets himself a gig as Jake’s back-seater. Now that he’s a little more familiar with the circuit breakers, it’s easy to switch off the radio and be the only voice in Jake’s ear.
You Make Me Live by Renai_chan {E}
US Naval Academy > Pilot / Hangster
Once upon a time, Jake met Rooster. Eight years later, he's a freshman at the US Naval Academy, and Bradley Bradshaw comes back into his life. Except, they've both grown up, and with growth, paths diverge.
Handle With Care by Barnes_Brain {E}
Catapult Officer > Pilot / Hangster
Ever since he could remember, Bradley wanted to be a pilot. When he was seventeen his dad, and Ice, pulled his papers from the Naval Academy. When he was barely 22 they did it again and pulled his wings out from underneath him. Stamped with a Do Not Fly he’d been delegated to Catapult Officer. After a particularly long deployment, and a very short fight, Bradley gets his chance at becoming a Naval Aviator as he’s always dreamed of. Once he’s got his wings of gold he meets Jake “Hangman” Seresin, another young pilot. He’s cocky, headstrong, handsome, brash, witty, striking, and most of all oblivious to the fact that Bradley is not flight deck crew anymore, or the son of the Commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. So maybe Bradley has the hots for the obnoxious pilot who looks like a Greek god. And maybe he doesn’t want to scare him off. Sue him.
I know exactly who you could be by haridwar {T}
Navy Doctor / Hangster
Bradley works in the Roosevelt's medical centre and gets a front row seat for the joyful experience that is The Mission
our paths will cross again by haridwar {E}
PA / Hangster
An angel worked for the navy and Jake was only half embarrassed to admit that he was obsessed with him. or: Jake keeps running into Iceman's assistant without realising that's who he is
I need attention (and I need it all from you) by haridwar {M}
Warrant Officer / Hangster
“Mom and I agreed I wasn’t gonna enlist Mav.” Bradley had been reluctant to remind him while also trying not to sound too heartbroken. He didn’t want his mother feeling guiltier than she already did when there were more important things to be thinking about. “You promised your mom you wouldn’t fly, that you wouldn’t be a fighter pilot. There’s so much more to the navy than just that kiddo.” or: Bradley is a mini Hondo
My Little Soldier Boy, I'll be True to You... by dandeliondick {E}
WSO / Hangster
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw was one of the best WSO out there and when a back-seater of the dagger squad is injured, he's assigned to fill in. Hangman is confident and cocky and cool, but the team is thrilled to watch as one mustached pilot seems to fluster the blonde at every turn.
Never leaving you again by Elliot {T}
WSO / Hangster
The mission, but Hangman and Rooster are a pilot-wso pair, and also exs. Hangman is the pilot, Rooster is the wso.
Take Me Home Tonight by Jeston17 {E}
Aerospace Engineer / Hangster
“You’re not a pilot, are you?” Jake asks. Bradley shakes his head, “No, I’m actually an aerospace engineer, but I work for the Navy at North Island. It’s how I know Natasha.” “I figured you weren’t a pilot,” Jake says, “I would have met you before, and I don’t think I could forget a face like that.” Jake gives him a suggestive look, and Bradley realizes he’s flirting. His heart jumps at the idea, and he feels the blood rush to his face. “Is it because of the mustache?” Bradley asks, trying to play it cool. “Not just,” Jake winks. Or: AU where Bradley is an aerospace engineer who is getting back into the dating scene after a breakup. He meets Jake at a bar with Phoenix, and the sparks start flying.
Maverick for America by LetPeteBeMaverick
Deputy National Security Advisor / Hangster
Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all {M}
Pete "Maverick" Mitchell may not have won the Top Gun trophy, but he did win the 2020 Presidential Election. Luckily, his wingman is there to keep his feet on the ground.
Seven Visitor Passes {T}
The seven people who visit Bradley Bradshaw in the hospital.
There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin {E}
Jake first kisses Bradley outside the Hard Deck in 2012, but that's only half the story.
Invitation To The Deep by SaintClaire {E}
Navy SEAL / Hangster
The call comes in at nine o’clock in the evening. He nearly screens it when he picks the phone up - it’s far too late in the evening for whatever bullshit this is. Blocked number. “Seresin speaking.” --- A world-renowned exploratory dive specialist. A mustached Navy SEAL. 80 hours of oxygen on the clock. A single dive submarine wedged between a thousand tons of crumbling volcanic rock. And an underwater labyrinth that Jake Seresin has cut his teeth, his family, and his career on; down amongst the grottos of the deep, glowing with life in pitch-black water.
Flying in Less Than Ideal Circumstances (And the Best Possible Outcomes) by ToukoJalorda003 {M}
WSO / Hangster
All Rooster had ever wanted was to be a WSO. He’d never had any interest in being a pilot - and when he finally got what he wanted, he’d hardly expected to be paired with Hangman, of all people. But perhaps it wasn’t all bad. Maybe. If he would be willing to admit that Hangman wasn’t terrible. That might have been easier to do, though, before everything went just slightly wrong.
sweet relief by haridwar {M}
Aviation technician / Hangster
“We’re not supposed to be strangers, Jake. I can’t keep doing this if that’s how you want things to stay.” or... catching feelings after casual sex
you're all i can think of these days by haridwar {T}
Navy SEAL / Hangster
Jake and Mav's no good very bad week and Bradley's efforts to save them
Somebody to Lean On by flyingfightingfishy {T}
US Naval Academy / Hangster
To say that Bradley's first impression of Jake was poor would be an understatement. He found the man arrogant, annoying, and unable to admit when he was wrong (although he probably shouldn't look too closely in the mirror when he said that). When he hears that Jake got violently airsick, he thinks maybe it will teach the man a lesson. To his surprise, it ends up teaching them both a lesson. OR Overcoming airsickness isn't a destination, it's a journey that's all about the friends (and lovers) we meet along the way.
It's not who you know by SunMonTue {M}
Flight School / Hangster
Low-angst Nepo!Baby Bradley and his four years at the USNA and his head-in-the-sand approach to the nepotism and the fact that he ends up being known as the guy with the two hot dads instead...
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kryptonitejelly · 2 years
Note
Blurb on Jake seeing you in his shirt/hoodie out in public or in and around the house(both would be great) And getting a little possessive and loving every second of it seeing you like that? Bonus if he getsall proud because someone else notices you’re in his clothes ? Low key it’s definitely a turn on for him
uhm yessssss, he would be so into this. and i would be so into wearing his clothes as well.
i’ve imagined this in my Flyboy universe - post them getting together (despite that mini-series not being complete yet at the point of writing this blurb but let me live… )
-
“Grab the bottles in the fridge please.” You call out as you tug on your sneakers beside the door while balancing a covered casserole dish in your hand.
“Bottles acquired.” Jake walks into view, holding a wine in each hand, the green glass of the bottles already sweating from being outside the fridge. You tug one out of his hand, allowing him the dexterity to slip on his shoes before he takes it back from you. You open the front door, letting him step out before you.
“Babe.” He studies you from behind for a second, his gaze trailing down your back, before he leans forward as you focus on locking the door behind you both. You feel his face next to yours, his breath skimming across your ear. “Are you even wearing any shorts?”
You hear a clink in his hands as he shifts to balance the neck of both wine bottles in one hand, his hand that is now free sliding up your inner thigh. Jake’s hand is cold from holding onto the wine bottle and both the temperature of his hand and the sudden contact with your skin makes you jump slightly.
“I am.” You gasp out in surprise as his hand meets the inner seam of the small pair of cotton shorts which you have on, hidden from view by his t-shirt, oversized on him and even more so on you, hanging from your frame.
“Just checking,” he says, hand squeezing the flesh of your thigh. “As much as I love seeing you in my shirt sans shorts around the house, I wouldn’t want your ass on display for the rest of them.”
He drops his hand and you turn around, eyes narrowing at him. The sight makes him chuckle, you practically swimming in his t-shirt, despite the sleeves already being rolled up, clutching a casserole dish in hand, but attempting to look intimidating.
“You’re cute when you try look mad.” He says as he bends down to press a kiss to your lips.
“God Hangman, can’t you keep your hands off her for even one second?” You both hear Rooster, and instead of pulling away, Jake lets his lips linger on yours, and you oblige him.
“No can do Bradshaw,” he drawls out lazily as he finally pulls himself away, but not before shooting a wink at you, to turn to face Rooster and Phoenix who have stopped on your driveway, each bearing items of their own in their hold.
“Will you ever stop wearing his clothes?” Tash smirks, raising a brow as she identifies your outfit as being Jake’s.
“Never.” You grin, much to Jake’s pleasure as the four of you head across the road towards Bob’s.
“Attagirl.”
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firenati0n · 8 days
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and all i can taste is this moment, and all i can breathe is your life
by firenati0n on ao3
T | 9999
tags: city of angels au, guardian angel henry, lawyer alex, 5+1, dual pov, hurt/comfort, angst with a HAPPY ENDING! NOT THE MOVIE ENDING I PROMISEEEEEEEEEEEEE
“In all the years, across all the universes, in the midst of all these people…you saw me. You felt me somehow. A gossamer fine thread connecting us, yet you grasped and tugged and held on tight. If losing my wings means I gain you, then that is a loss I will bear with gratitude.”
Five times Guardian Angel Henry yearns for a truly human sensory experience, and the one time he feels them all at once. Or, Henry discovers the joys of humanity through Alex’s eyes, finds himself, and falls in love. Or, Henry takes a leap of faith, and Alex catches him.
xoxo roop
also i know i talked about this in literally january so tagging some folks who expressed interest in this in the past pls don't mind me <3 ilysm xoxo
@ninzied @suseagull04 @onward--upward @duchessdepolignaca03 @@candyspandemonium @anincompletelist @inexplicablymine @heysweetheart-writes @wordsofhoneydew @nocoastposts @onthewaytosomewhere @magicandarchery @celeritas2997 @cha-melodius @junebugclaremontdiaz @kiwiana-writes @eusuntgratie @bigassbowlingballhead @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @littlestar2911 @leaves-of-laurelin @tinyarmedtrex @galitzine-nick @anchoredarchangel @gltzine @getmehighonmagic @thirdeye1234 @movetoheavens @starkfridays @indestructibleheart @littlemisskittentoes @songliili @theprinceandagcd @gay-flyboys
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Poe Dameron Protection Squad: (Poe x GN!reader)
Genre: A N G S T
Author’s note: I had barely any energy today so this is not finessed in any way, but my brain decided “angst!” and made me quickly write this. (I’m so sorry.)
Warnings: canon typical mentions of war and death, reader being self-sacrificial, that lovely angsty trope of Poe arguing with you for doing something reckless in the air the very moment you touch your X-Wing down on the runway.
GIF by @prideandprejudice
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“What the kriff were you thinking?” Poe spits, rounding on you as soon as you’ve landed. You’ve barely -rather shakily- descended your ladder, and his boots are already pounding the duracrete. You tug off your helmet, everything suddenly stifling, and you immediately wish you hadn’t when Poe’s assault notches up from muffled to ear-splitting. “Were you trying to get yourself killed?”
“Poe…”
“Oh, that’s it,” he jabs his finger. His lips are drawn back, baring his teeth. “You weren’t thinking at all, were you?”
In the face of his ire, his animation, however, you remain still. Perfectly stoic, despite the buzz of adrenaline still rattling your limbs. “I was thinking. I’ve already thought about it, Poe. Made peace with it.”
He shakes his head silently, as if he can’t possibly be hearing you right. “Made peace with dying? Recklessly?” You wince, your ears still humming from the flight. You swallow and they pop. They hurt.
“No. Poe,” you attempt to placate, sliding your hand down his chest as the barrage of him crowds you. You succumb to a resigned smile. Almost eerily calm now. “No. Not just dying. I’ve made peace with… With dying for you.”
His big umber eyes flash with confusion. With betrayal. A galaxy of pain swirling in them. Glittering like star shine. His eyes search yours, and his anger deflates like a popped balloon, his whole body sagging. “What?!” The word is so quiet, so small, that you could have sworn you’d mistakenly replaced your helmet.
Still, you force another watery smile, unable to meet the pain in his eyes. Cowardly in your confession. You look down to his chest, bringing your hands up to fumble idly with the harnesses and lapels of his flight suit. As if you are checking he really did make it back alive. That if you touch him, he won’t disappear in a puff of smoke like he almost had up there.
You feel warmth bloom over the back your hands as Poe folds his own palms up to cover them. To still your feeble attempt at a distraction. He jostles you, and he repeats his question. His voice sounds frayed. Thoroughly out of fuel. “What in the stars are you saying?!”
You look back up at him for the briefest moment, but that is all that you can stand before you are snatching your gaze away from the liquid pain in his eyes.
As if you could feel his pain through his touch, you pull your arms away from him abruptly, folding them around yourself. Feeling and suddenly recognising that your heart is still thudding inside your chest.
It had been a close call.
You’d taken fire for him up in the air just now - despite his orders. Your ship had lost a thruster, and you’d barely scraped her down to safety on the runway. You can smell the charring. Feel it stinging in your nostrils and your eyes. Hot metal and oil. Can feel scrapes red and burning on your skin.
You’d put yourself in the line of the blast to protect him. And evidently, Poe is none too happy about it.
You could have died.
That’s what matters to him.
All that matters to you is that he didn’t.
“I’ve thought long and hard about it. About dying for you.” His brows tilt in disbelief. Anger. His lips wobble as he clamps them into a thin line. “Don’t look at me like that, flyboy,” you scold, maintaining your steady conviction. “This is a war, isn’t it? Every single one of us should know the limits of what we’re prepared to do.” You pump your eyebrows at him. “Don’t you?”
He swallows. Tips his chin down and shakes his head at you. His face contorts with an undisclosed, gnarled emotion. “I do. But not you. Not f-,” -he pauses as his voice cracks like dried out duracrete. He tugs in a breath. Composes himself enough to get the words out. Barely. “Not for me.”
You scoff. Look at him almost pityingly. Almost. “Poe, love. Are you really that naive?” He searches your eyes, still not understanding all of this, the corners of his mouth slipping down in a vague display of agony. “I’m expendable, Poe. But you?” You reach out for him now. Again. You squeeze his shoulders between your palms, your eyes glowing with a proud, ferocious fire. “You are our best shot.” You set your face, every bit as determined as you has been in the air to save him.
“No,” he whispers, the word powerless. Weak. Dying on his lips. So unlike him. Unsurprisingly, you do not take his protest as compelling. It simply tells you there are realities he still refuses to accept.
You step tentatively towards him though. You catch his cheek in your palm. “You have your mission,” you say as softly as possible. You see steel glance through his eyes as he recalls it - his purpose. “And I have mine.” Your mettle is every bit as tough as his.
“Your mission is to follow my orders. To-“
“No, Poe.” His mouth opens and closes wordlessly when you refuse to fall in line. “My mission is to protect you while we’re in the air. Any old fool could see that you’re the hero here, right? And me? Little old Black Five?” Your eyes mist with a film of tears, but your resolve does not waver. “I’m just collateral. I’m just there, to stop them getting to you.”
“That’s kriffin’ ludicrous,” Poe bites, tearing your palm away from his cheek. Stomping his foot adamantly. “We’re a team. We’re kriffin’…” his eyebrows leap up towards his hairline as he devised a new line of attack. “I’ll go above your head! The General will-“
“The General signed off on it Poe,” you snap, tired of his ire. His naivety. Too tired for this. Too tired for him to try and argue plain facts.
You’ve made peace with it. He should too.
Still, despite the stark reality of the situation, you do almost hate yourself, when you speak those words. Hate yourself for how sunken Poe’s face looks in that moment. How hopeless.
“No.” His words are nothing but a prayer now, and you know those will get him nowhere.
Still, a gnarled agony twists itself deep in the pit of you. Snakes of guilt; pity; regret. You don’t want to do this to him. Don’t want him to have to live with the burden of any more blood on his hands.
Poe is a good man. The best. And his conscience tends to claim far more kills than he causes. If you’d gone down today, you know he would have washed his hands in your blood too.
“You can’t do that!” Poe’s argument becomes increasingly animated, nonsensical, as he attempts to appeal to you; but, his attempts are wholly futile. Your mind has been made up for a long time. You know what you are prepared to do.
“I can. I can, Poe. And I’d do it all over again.”
“Please,” he pleads, his fingertips extending towards your own, but you withdraw from him, snatching away from his touch.
It pains you, to do so. Of course it does. You want nothing more than to reach out for him. But that won’t help things at all. It won’t change things.
“Any one of us here would do it, wouldn’t we?” You reason. “We’d die to take the First Order down?” You know he would. He’s come close too many times to count already. “Sometimes, that means protecting your assets. Giving the Resistance the best possible chance to succeed.” That’s him. The best possible chance. The spark that will light the fire.
“We’re not assets. Damnit. We’re people!
“We’re soldiers, Poe! We’re at war for crying out loud! Up there, you’re the one who’s most vital.” You point at the sky, whipping your finger around like the trajectory of a frenzied X-Wing. “Is it really so hard to believe, huh? They know it too. They gun for you. You scare them. You’re by far the most important-“
“-I don’t care!” Poe exclaims suddenly, his voice torn to shreds by the shards of emotion which spike in his throat. Poe grabs at your elbows before you can turn away from him. “I don’t care about all that!”
“You do though. It’s everything you want, to take them down.” It’s the core of who he is. His good heart shines with it. Shines with his mission to bring light into the darkness, everywhere it tries to hide.
“I don’t! Not more than-” You finally wriggle free and turn away from him, cutting his words short. You turn away quickly - before he can say the words you know are coming. Before he can say the words you have hoped for and dreaded for years. But, it’s a last ditch effort, and it doesn’t stop him. It doesn’t stop him, and he simply speaks the words to your back. That’s one small mercy, at least, because then he can’t see the way his words make your heart break as he delivers his watery, weighty confession. It’s another small mercy, that you don’t have to face him in this moment. “I could care less what’s best for the Resistance when it comes to you. How kriffin’ ‘vital’ you say I am. You’re the only one who is vital to me!” You hear him sniff, his voice increasingly overcome with emotion. “I can’t do this without you. Kriff, I… I don’t want to do this without you. Any of this. I can’t. Stars - I love you. So much. I can’t lose you. Not like this. Not ever.”
Your eyes close, screwing shut as if you could shut him out too. For a moment, you are completely still, your body tightening with tension, and a lump lodging firmly in your throat. You feel his words so deeply that your whole middle rattles with them, your heart pounding more out of control than when you had barrelled through the air just moments ago, certain of death. Your eyes stinging with tears more than the smoke from your engine fire had caused.
Poe is everything to you.
Everything that you have always wanted.
Everything that you want forever.
But, this isn’t about you. This isn’t about your heart, and whether it is in pieces like a smashed mirror inside your chest, hurting you on every breath.
This is about keeping the lights on in a galaxy where the dark side is determined to snuff all good things out. To erase everything bright and good. To erase everything like him. And so, when you turn towards Poe, you do your best. You do not allow your heartache to show.
You have a greater, more essential mission than being happy.
You don’t get to be a person.
You don’t get to live a life with him. Grow old with him.
But there is one thing you can do.
You remain stoic, determined, and calm - at least, on the surface. You remain a few paces away as you turn to face him. You scrub your voice clean of your feelings for him - and a part of you regrets that instead of neutral it comes out cold. “I made the right call today, Commander. I know what it is I’m prepared to do.” You set your mouth into a thin line, even as tears bead in Poe’s eyes. Even as he dolefully searches for the warmth he knows should be over spilling in your voice, your eyes, your gestures. He searches, desperately - but he does not find it. He will not. There is nothing you can change. “And I’d do it all over again.”
You set your face. Hold your ground.
You want him to swallow it. Want him to swallow the line that it’s not about you. It’s not about him. That it’s about something bigger. About the people who come after you being happy, and safe, and loved, and warm, even if you can’t be. That it’s worth it. But, as you stand there, firm and cold, watching tears wet Poe’s cheeks, you can’t even swallow it yourself. Instead, a tight ball forms again in your throat. Gets itself stuck there.
“I know there’s a war,” Poe pleads, his voice hampered - weak from the weight of this crushing sadness. “I don’t care. You have to make it. You have to.”
“Because you need me?” It’s stupid, you think, that he would pin all this on you in the midst of this war. It’s stupid, and it’s also the most beautiful thing you can comprehend.
He nods. A tear courses down his cheek and drips from his chin, leaving a shined trail like star fire in its wake.
You want to run to him. To kiss him deeply.
To run with him.
To take him away from all of this. Away from all this pain. The best you can hope to give him, you think, might be a life after you. After the war.
“Okay. So you need me? Well. The whole damn Resistance needs you, Poe.” You dip your head, unable to meet his gaze for a single moment longer. There is a beat, and then you lay your final words on him. With conviction. Without regret. This is your mission. “I’m just your protection squad.”
You turn around, and you leave this spot, this conversation.
You leave, knowing that you must have truly crushed him; because the Poe you know would always follow. Would never give up. Would always have hope. This time, however, there are no boots pounding the duracrete in your direction. No snarky words of protest. He does not follow. He does not hope.
In fact, there is nothing except him standing there, tears shining his cheeks as you spin and walk away.
You had won today - you had saved him - but it somehow feels like your worst defeat.
Still, it simply has to be this way, doesn’t it? Regardless of if you’re a soldier. Regardless of whether this fight is bigger than both of you. You would save him, again and again. In truth, you would give your life for him not because he’s an asset or a hero or a pawn in some galactic war. You’d do it because to you, personally, no-one in the galaxy is more vital or more important than Poe Dameron. You would save him, because you are madly in love with him, and will be until your dying day.
It is about you. It is about him. It always was.
You’d give your life to protect him, if you needed to.
And you’ve already made your peace with that.
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thedryswan · 2 months
Text
He smiled at her, ordering his scotch with a please and thank you.
She frowned at him, setting down the glass a little more heavily than necessary, keeping a firm grip on it and sloshing in a short measure. Putting the bottle to one side, she leaned on the bar, tapping her neatly manicured nails.
"What?" he asked, reaching for the glass which she pulled back.
"What's your IQ?"
"Uh, what does that have to do with the drink you're holding hostage and why do you ask?"
"'Cuz to the outsider you look like a tw*t with a death wish."
"'Scuse me ?"
"What the hell were you thinking, Flyboy? That rescue last week at the paint factory. Did you even think before running into that warehouse? I mean, ffs, you barely made it out before it blew up."
"But I did make it out, along with the three guys who were trapped in there."
Hannah growled, rolling her eyes to stare at the ceiling and clenching her hands into fists. Taking a deep breath, she leaned towards him.
"Watching that live footage, do you have any idea how scared I was?"
They both froze, staring at each other before Scott asked the uncomfortable question.
"Why would my being in danger scare you, of all people?"
She blinked at him, resolutely silent, it was the question that had kept nagging at her all week.
"Just... Don't do it again."
"Really? You're asking me to stay out of trouble, with your track record."
With an impatient sigh, she wiped the spilled scotch from the bar.
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