#Top Gun Maverick x Reader

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

Without a doubt. She probably still has it somewhere in all its ugly green glory. 😊

For Her Hand - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Jake has always been cool and collected under pressure, but setting across the table from one of the Navy's most infamous legends to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage?? Well, that's enough to make anyone crack under pressure

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none? cursing, mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of religion

Jake was sweating. 

He probably had sweat stains on the underarms of his dress shirt, and he was now worried that he was going to have to use the bathroom before James got here. Tonight was the night that Jake was going to ask for Y/N’s hand in marriage. . . even though he already proposed. 

Jake knew he was doing it all backwards. He had already gotten an ear full from his mother when they called her several months ago to tell her the news of Y/N’s pregnancy. Jake never wanted it to be like this, no, he was raised to be a true gentleman. He was supposed to court the girl for a couple of months, and then ask her father and the church for their blessing to get engaged, then there would be a big party on his family’s ranch to celebrate the engagement and then there would be a huge wedding ceremony that was more about showing off to his parents��� friends than about him and Y/N. 

But there was something about Y/N, that made Jake throw all expectations out the window. From the moment Jake saw her from across the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. That moment he stepped off the carrier and went straight to her house to find her covered in dirt, he knew that she was going to be the mother of his children. That he would come home to her every single time. Every night he dreamt of the life they would have together, the names of their children, what they would look like, the big house he would build her, and the garden that she would spend hours out in. 

Jake hadn’t always had a good reputation when it came to women, and it was pretty well known. Throughout the academy and flight school, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jake leave with a new woman. There was a part of him who had spent years searching for the person to fill the void in his heart that had been festering from years of striving for his father’s attention and love. And Y/N was the person who filled it in a very healthy way. 

When James first heard about Jake’s and Y/N’s relationship, he was not thrilled. He had seen flyboys like Jake before. He knew what they got up to on postings and detachments, and didn’t want his daughter to join the club of broken hearts. He had also seen and heard the broken cries of their partners when an officer walked off the ship and handed them a neatly folded flag. James felt ill every time he thought about his daughter being in that position. 

But then he saw how they interacted with each other at the Naval ball, and Vice Admiral James “Hercules” Parker was proven wrong. He could see the love that Jake had for his daughter. And even though nothing was promised in their line of work, James knew he couldn’t stand in the way of true love. 

Jake wiped his hands on his pants for what seemed like the thousandth time that hour as he looked around the restaurant for James. He felt like dinner was a more professional way to ask to marry his daughter than doing it over drinks at the Hard Deck or a round of golf, or blurting out in the middle of a meeting (like Coyote had done with Warlock). What made his nerves stay somewhat at bay was that Jake was kind of doing this all backward. He had already proposed to Y/N when he came home from his last deployment and she had said yes. Blame it on the heat of the moment and being a hair's breadth away from death, but Jake couldn’t wait any longer without making her his forever. And she was already pregnant with his child, and James and Clara had already accepted him into their family. 

“Jacob,” James said as he walked to the table. Jake stood up and greeted James with a handshake, “Missing Thursday night football for this.” 

“I’m sorry sir,” Jake said and took another drink of his water. James eyed him suspiciously, seeing the young man's hands shake, as a waiter walked to the table. 

“Anything to drink for you two, tonight?” The waiter asked. 

“Top-shelf whiskey,” James nodded, “Make that two, neat.” 

“Oh, I’m good with water,” Jake said. The waiter nodded and went to go get their drinks, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.” 

“I can see that,” James said, “Didn’t think that the ‘Hangman’ could get nervous,” Jake cringed at the way James said his call sign as if it were some sort of dig. Some sort of pass to let Jake know that he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, “What’s on your mind son? How’s Y/N and the baby?” 

“Good, they’re both good. She’s pissed, uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “Sorry, upset, that Clara won’t let her dig the flower beds.” 

“It’s not good for pregnant women to be digging in soil,” James responded, his voice void of emotion and staring Jake down like he was an idiot. 

“Right, yes! I knew that from the parenting books,” Jake nodded, remembering one of the only facts he had retained from those books, “Anyway, I uh,” Jake scratched the back of his neck, trying to gather his thoughts, “I love you, daughter,” James nodded, “A-and I did this whole thing backward and I apologize for it. My dad drilled into my head that you always ask for permission first before you do anything with another man’s daughter-” 

“Or get her pregnant.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry for that too. But sir-” 

“James,” 

Jake nodded, “James, I don’t ever want to see a day where your daughter is not by my side. When I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to her. . . well, it was the worst thing ever. I had to make a promise to her when I got back on solid ground, and I did. And now, I gotta make it right. If you would please grant me the blessing, I would love to marry your daughter.”  

James looked at him for a moment, the silence becoming so thick between the two men. Jake felt a cold sweat go down his spine, but then he saw a smile break out across James’ face, “I knew this would come sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black ring box, “She used to wear this around the house as a little girl. It was my mother’s.” 

James placed the box on the table and Jake gingerly picked it up. Inside sat a beautiful diamond attached to a silver band. The diamond had to be nearly three carats and had smaller diamonds around it. Jake looked up at James, tears brimming his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask-” 

James shook his head, cutting Jake off, “I did the same thing nearly thirty years ago,” James chuckled, “I lost my wingman and almost burned in myself. The moment I got home to Clara, I told her that I could not go back up into the sky without knowing I was going to have her forever. Then she dragged me to the courthouse that same day,” James shook his head with a smile, “I knew this moment was coming at some point in time, when 'dad' stopped being the only man in her life. The only man she looks at with those eyes. No dad is ever ready for that day, and one day, hopefully, you'll have the same experience."

Jake could only imagine the day he would have a little girl and hoped she’d look like Y/N. He could see it now, a beautiful daughter that had her mother’s beautiful eyes and smile, and her personality. If she was born with Jake’s. . . lord help them all, she was going to be a firecracker. 

“Does this mean that I. . .” 

“You have my blessing to marry my daughter.” 

— — — 

After dinner was over, Jake probably broke every traffic law to get home to Y/N. He smiled as he noticed the lights in the backyard were on and the sound of her giggle was in the air. He could hear the small barks of the German shepherd puppy he had gotten her as a companion for when he’s gone on deployments. Jake grabbed the bouquet of pink carnations and basically skipped to the backyard. 

“Bring it back, Steve!” Y/N called as the puppy hustled his way back to his owner, “Good boy!” Steve’s attention turned the second that the gate to the backyard was opened. Even for a puppy, his barks were still loud, startling Y/N. She turned around, seeing Jake standing there with a goofy grin on his face. 

“What are you-” 

“Marry me,” Jake said, cutting her off. 

Y/N giggled, “Sweetheart, I already said yes. Did you hit your-” 

“Nope,” Jake shook his head and walked over to where she was kneeling on the ground. Steve growled a bit as Jake got close to his mother, “Hey, I was the one who adopted you and let you chew on the seatbelts in my truck.” Steve gave Jake a look, before trotting off into the backyard, “Animals.” 

“Be nice,” Y/N playfully scolded, and sat down in the grass. Her hand rested on her growing bump, which had popped a few days ago, and had become Jake’s latest obsession to touch, “How did dinner go?” 

“Went great,” Jake said, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap. He rested his large hand on top of her’s, “He gave me his blessing and gave me this,” Jake pulled out the ring from his pocket. 

Y/N gasped, “My nana’s ring! Oh my god, I thought I lost that!” 

“Your dad kept it and gave it to me,” Jake said. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and took off the fifteen-dollar ring he bought at Target that was slowly starting to turn green, “Now, we can make it official,” Y/N turned her head to look at him, “What do you say, Mrs. Seresin?” 

Y/N smiled and turned in his lap so she was straddling him, “I think you should’ve told him I’m already Mrs. Seresin, but. . .” She tilted her head back and forth, “Baby steps.” 

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps,” Jake smirked as he wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them over. Y/N’s giggles filled the air as Jake pressed kisses all over her face. Her ring glittered in the moonlight.

note: happy Valentine's Day or whatever

taglist: @sio-ina-bottle @kmc1989 @soulmates8 @averyhotchner @fandom-life-12 @jazminlahey20 @jessicab1991 @reidshearts @princess76179 @dizzybee03 @dempy @kellyls04 @daddymack01 @beautifulandvoid @noonenuts @bradleybeachbabe @its-the-pilot @buckysteveloki-me @shibble @a-library-ofmy-own @fanfictionismyhobby @emilyoflanternhill @seitmai @moonlessnight14 @hardballoonlove @sgt-barnesveins @vhkdncu2ei8997 @1nterstellarcha0s @krispybearbouquet @a-serene-place-to-be @seresinslady @na-ta-sh-aa @milestomaverick @itsmytimetoodream @topgunslut @yuckosworld @angelbabyange @pedrohoe04 @midnightmagpiemama @lynnevanss @ummjustfics @thegoddessc @mrsevans90 @mjsvinyl @luversgirl @silenthappyplace @buckysvinyl

[robertsfloyd]

just a bob blurb bc i'm tired n wanted to do something nice for charlie

the room was bright, so damn bright. you hid your face in your boyfriend's chest. he tightened his arms around you, still snoring slightly.

tucked under his chin, you were completely content, completely comfortable. eyes closed, hiding from the morning light, you wanted to stay in the safety of your bed forever.

a groan left his lips.

"bobby," you whispered, blinking up at him. it was too bright in the room, but not when you kept yourself hidden beneath bob.

"angel," he mumbled, eyes still shut as he reached towards the bedside table, reaching for his glasses. he pushed them onto his face and looked down at you.

squished into the pillow, his glasses were slightly askew on his face. he looked so damn handsome, you couldn't help but kiss his nose. "morning, handsome," you whispered as he rolled onto his back.

you laid your head on his chest. his large hands were splayed on your back, holding you against him. he was so warm, but it wasn't uncomfortable in the california heat.

he smiled at you, his fingers finding their way to your hair. he twirled strands around his fingers and scratched at your scalp, pulling a content moan from you. "morning, gorgeous."

his morning voice, fuck. his normal voice was deep but this was something else. you got closer to him, slotting yourself between his legs.

"comfy?" he asked as he laced his hands together on your back.

you hummed. you were incredibly comfortable laying against him, laying against your bob. he brushed your hair away from your face.

your bob loved you. he loved you more than anything. he loved mornings like this, where he could hold you until hunger pulled you from the safety of your bed. he loved hooking his finger under your chin and pulling you up to kiss him before you laid back down against him, utterly content.

the two of you watched as the sun rose through your almost sheer curtains. his heart was beating under your ear, steady, just like your bob.

strong arms, muscled torso. a bob only you got to see. a bob that was all your own.

your bob.

[lovelytsunoda]

love is a losing game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin

PART I - Wonderwall

Summary: Detectives Jessica Statham and Jake Seresin are ready to tie the knot! Fast forward six years, and they're trying desperately to have a baby. Feeling the mounting pressure of his job, his mortgage and the rising cost of living, Jake's looking for an answer to all his problems. Enter his partner, Detective Bradley Bradshaw, who has an idea for a side gig that might not be entirely legal

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of fertility issues, depictions of a car accident and miscarriage. Mentions of mental health struggles. Jessie really wants to be a mother, Jake gets told he has a lower than average sperm count. Infidelity (NOT FROM JESSIE OR JAKE) Bradley is actually such a horrible person I’m so sorry but someone had to be the bad guy here. Intense violence.

Author's Note: Guys I feel like I'm back in my Wattpad era here! Anyone who regularly reads my shit knows I'm awful at continuing series (Rip to the Welcome to Wherever You Are Verse and the Radiator Springs series) but I've had Bosch on the brain lately and its giving me ideas like no other. I hammered out most of this chapter in like two hours.

Cop Terms Glossary: RHD (Robbery-Homicide Division), Vice (a division of the police department assigned to crimes related to gambling & prostitution)

Series Masterlist

June 2017

“Well, I’m beat. Anybody want a stiff drink?” Detective Tom Kazansky asked around as they filed out of the courtroom and down the hallway.

Since the Kelly Garrett trial had concluded for the day, Jessica had been strangely quiet, staring down at her phone almost as soon as she had left the courtroom.

“Yeah, why not.” Pete Mitchell relented, turning to look at his desk officer. “Jessie, you in?”

Her head snapped up from her cell phone, tendrils of cherry-red hair falling in front of her eyes. She had been working with the two detectives for just under two years. Kazansky was easygoing and the two had clicked fast, but Mitchell had taken her a lot longer to warm up to. He seemed to see conspiracies everywhere, but as much as she hated to admit it, he was usually right. She and Mitchell had an unusual bond, and it raised many eyebrows around the department.

Six months ago, in pursuit of both a ring of dirty cops who had murdered her patrol mentor, Javy Machado, as well as the killer of a pornography director, Jessica had been caught in the bloody crossfires of a daylight shooting on her day off. The bullet had grazed her leg, and put her out of commission for a week. Seeing that the wife of the dead man who shot her was currently on trial for murder, Mitchell and Kazansky thought she’d be a little more attentive.

“Actually,” she grinned, tapping her manicured nails against her phone case, giddy with excitement. “I have a date.”

Mitchell raised his eyebrows. “A date?”

“Yeah. He’s also a cop. He works patrol out of Franklin, near Thai Town. I met him when the trial first started.”

“I’ll be damned.” Tom grinned. “Who would have thought. Go on, don’t let us keep you. And don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

Jessie gave him a look as she turned to walk out the main courthouse doors. “Knowing you and Pete, that doesn’t stop me from doing much.”

Pete laughed. “She’s got us there, Tom.”

“Yeah, she does.”

Detective Pete Mitchell found it hard to believe that conversation had taken place just three years prior. He was ruminating over it as he pulled his Jeep into a parking space near the marina hall, taking in the balloons, partygoers and the chalkboard sign outside the entrance.

Welcome to the wedding of Jake Seresin and Jessica Statham.

“They grow up fast, don’t they?” Tom Kazansky wisecracked from the passenger seat. “She’s come a long way, as a person and as a cop.”

“I’ve never been prouder of someone I’ve mentored.” Pete agreed. “Come on, let’s get in there soon so we don’t have to sit at the back with the riff raff.”

Kazansky laughed. “The riff raff? You know its mostly cops in there, right?”

“They’re vice cops, Tom. Vice cops.”

The front hall of the building was deserted, a hair metal love ballad playing over the speaker as guests filed into the main room. To his right, Pete could see the bridal party gathering together. Jessie was in the middle, looking radiant in a simple white dress. Her hair was back its natural color, cascading in waves over her shoulders and back. Mickey Garcia, another RHD detective, was fiddling with her hair, attempting to straighten the ribbon holding it back from her face.

“Mickey, stop touching things! Natasha spent like two hours on this!”

Mickey and Jessie had come up through patrol together, alongside Javy Machado. They had gotten closer after Javy died, and Jessie continued to think of him as one of her best friends. He was always there to give her guidance, or listen to her rant about whatever rule Pete had broken that day.

“I thought you stopped listening to this stuff after the Ansel Howard appeal?” Pete remarked, approaching the group.

Jessie turned to face him, eyes lighting up. “Pete! You made it! And don’t talk about that disgusting man on my wedding day, please.” She resisted the urge to shudder thinking about the convicted felon who had leered at her in court and sent threatening letters to her house, or how his lawyer tried to tear her apart on the stand with her sealed juvenile record. “I’m glad you made it.”

Pete pulled her in for a hug, and had a vague sense that soon enough, he’d be watching his own daughter go through the same motions. “You might want to get Natasha to check your hair again. Make sure she can fix whatever Garcia has done to it.”

“It was crooked!” Mickey protested

Jessie giggled, pulling away from the detective. “I will. Hi, Tom. Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” The other detective said, giving her a quick hug. “I hope we’re not too late.”

Jessie shook her head. “Just in time, actually.”

The detectives filed out the door, settling in at the wide end of the dock, where white wooden chairs with large ribbons on the backs had been set up. Ron Kerner, the chief desk officer out of Hollywood station, had saved the pair seats.

Back in the marina hall, Jessie was vibrating with excitement as the bridesmaids and groomsmen lined up to make their entrance. Jake Seresin was standing at the front with his mother, and Natasha had dramatically covered his eyes with a sleeping mask as everyone fell into their practiced positions. Jessie’s dad linked his arm with hers as Natasha passed her the bouquet of wildflowers.

“I’m so happy for you, Jessie.” Natasha gushed. “Don’t think about anything else out there. Just you and Jake.”

“Thank you, Nat. I’m ready to start whenever you guys are.”

The music started up, something neutral and cheery, as the groom and his mother, followed by the paired off bridesmaids and groomsmen (or, in Mickey’s case, Mickey and one of Jake's groomsmen striding down the dock like football players taking to the field at the Super Bowl). Jessie watched from the doorway, a wide smile on her face and feeling of elation in her stomach that was quickly weighed down by nerves.

Her dad squeezed her arm, looking down at her. “You’ve got this, kiddo.”

The music changed one final time, a soft new wave song from the mid-nineties. Jessie took a deep breath, tightened her hold on the bouquet, and began to walk down the pier. It was a beautiful day outside, sunlight reflecting off the blue water of the Marina del Rey. But all of that paled in comparison to the sight of her husband to be standing at the altar.

Jake Seresin took her breath away in his tight black suit, white carnations pinned to his lapel. His usually messy hair was moderately tamed, and Jessie had no doubt that he would smell like hair gel when she stood across from him. Goosebumps rose on her skin from the breeze, but she didn’t feel cold.

No, she felt warmth blossom through her chest when she saw Jake see her in her dress for the first time. His face went pink with emotion, tears pricking at his eyes.

Please don’t cry, she thought. If you cry, so will I, and then my mascara will run and the pictures will be ruined.

Her walk down the aisle seemed to both take too long and not long enough as she passed Natasha her bouquet, moving to stand in front of JaKe. One of his calloused hands came out to hold hers, rubbing reassuring circles on her palm.

“You look beautiful.” He choked out, tearing up. “I love you so much.”

She beamed at him, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “I love you too, Jacob Arthur Seresin.”

Behind them, the officiant cleared his throat. “It’s a little too soon for the vows, kids. I do have a speech to get through, you know.”

The couple laughed, refusing the let go of their held hands. The officiant began his speech, and Jessie took a peek out at the crowd. The seats were full, and she was floored that so many people had cared enough about her to come and watch her marry the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Now, I know you guys are both cops, and there are default vows that cops usually say at these things,” the officiant started “but I do believe the bride and groom have written their own vows.”

From that moment forward, Jessie tattooed Jake’s vows to the inside of her brain. His vows to protect her, to love her, to always have her back, to cherish her. To be her safe haven when the world became too much.

And seven years later, when he walked out of their house in handcuffs, there was another promise he made that she couldn’t help but repeat like a mantra.

To never let her become a single mother.

Four years later

Jessie’s aging Volkswagen Golf waited in the intersection, blinker on with the expectation that traffic would cool enough for her to take the left hand turn that would set her and Jake back on their way to Los Angeles. They had spent the weekend in Pasadena with her parents, as well as her cousins and their kids.

She would be hesitant to admit it out loud, but seeing Jake interact with her nieces and nephews lit a fire inside her that she never knew was there. He was so good with kids, and she couldn’t help but wonder how he would act with a kid of his own. She knew in her gut that she would be such a good father.

“Will’s daughter is adorable.” Jake remarked, his hand trailing to Jessie’s jean-clad thigh. The radio hummed softly in the background, playing an old Huey Lewis song that they had danced to at their wedding. “Did you see the way she followed your sister around the kitchen, waving that wooden spoon about.”

Jessie snorted, tapping her fingernails against the steering wheel. “I thought she was going to take her brother’s eye out with that thing.”

The light changed from green to yellow. Seeing a gap in traffic, Jessie took her foot off the brake and completed her turn. Or at least, she tried to. There was a sickening crash as another vehicle cut in front of her, taking off the front end of her hood. The seatbelt dug into her stomach as the car spun around, her forehead snapping against the steering wheel right before the airbags engaged.

“Jessica!” Jake shouted after the car had stopped, straining around his seatbelt and the airbag dust to get a glimpse of his wife. “Jessica!” He fumbled with the car door, slicing through his seatbelt with the Swiss Army Knife in his jeans pocket.

He ran around the back of the car, ignoring the other driver who was cursing a storm at him over the wreckage of his Tesla. Jake clawed at the door, desperate to get to his wife. “Jess.” He said firmly, sawing at her seatbelt. She was groggy, but awake. She seemed unharmed, but Kevin wouldn’t know until he got her out of there.

“Jake?” She murmured, reaching for the collar of his flannel shirt.

“I’m right here, baby. Right here.”

With a sharp tug, he pulled her out of the driver’s seat, setting her down on the road. The Tesla driver was still shouting, screaming about how he was going to call the cops.

“You just hit two cops, you self-righteous son of a bitch!” Jake cried, fumbling for his badge. “Detective Jake Seresin, Hollywood Vice. Now I need you to call my wife a goddamn ambulance!”

Jessie’s jeans were soaked with blood, and there was a cut running down the side of her head where she was hit with broken glass from her rearview mirror.

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding real bad. Are you hurt?”

Jessie shook her head, trying hard to keep her eyes open.  “Just my head, I think. And my stomach. But it feels more like a cramp.”

“Just keep holding my hand, baby. I’m calling it in.” Kevin tried to stay levelheaded. There were a whole manner of injuries Jessie could have that weren’t visible. Internal bleeding, broken bones. His fingers stained his screen protector with blood as he dialed the 911 circuit board. “This is Detective Jake Seresin, my wife, Detective Jessica Seresin and I were just in a car accident in Pasadena, at the intersection near Robinson Stadium. We need an ambulance and two patrol units.”

The next few hours felt like an incoherent blur. Jake was largely fine aside from some bruising on his ribs from the airbags. Jessie’s condition was more complex, and Jake was worrying himself sick as he paced up and down the hospital waiting room, hoping that when the doctor came out, it would be with good news. He breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally allowed into the room to see her. The only other time they had been to the emergency room together was when Jessie had her heart episode, right in the middle of one of the LAPD’s most high-profile cases. Considering she had worked that case with Pete Mitchell, it was no surprise that it had driven her to a near heart attack.

He sat next to her hospital bed, taking her hand in his. There was a red mark on her hand where her wedding ring had been, now sitting on the nightstand next to her. Jessie was awake, and mostly alert. There was a bandage on the side of her head, but other than that, she seemed to be fine.

“Jake, you’re okay.” Jessie breathed, squeezing his hand. “I was worried about you.”

“I was worried about you, Jess. That was a lot of blood.”

“The doctor should be in in a moment.” The nurse standing next to Jessie’s bed gave the couple a tired smile as she finished adjusting Jessie’s IVs.

Shortly after the nurse had left, a broad-shouldered doctor came into the room, brandishing a clipboard. He cleared his throat before introducing himself to Jake. “Well, the good news is that you both are fine. All wounds were minor, but you both should be on the lookout for any delayed symptoms, especially those associated with whiplash.” The doctor paused. “Now for the bad news. Your baby didn’t make it.”

Jake sat up straighter. He felt Jessie’s hand tighten around his as she weakly gasped out “what baby?”

The doctor’s eyes widened. “Did you not know? Mrs. Seresin, you were nine weeks pregnant.”

Jessie froze in place, before letting out a choked wail. “No. No, no, no…”

“Oh, Jessica.” Jake sighed, feeling his heart shatter “I’m so sorry.”

“I didn’t know. I swear to God I didn’t know.” She sobbed, leaning against her husband for support.

“I know, honey. I know. I’ve got you.”

The months that followed were rough on both parties. Jessie withdrew from Jake, burying herself in her work. Jake started drinking, staying out later with his colleagues. He hated that Jessica was in so much pain and that there wasn’t anything he could do about it. At the same time, he was grieving what could have been. He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted to be a father until the universe ripped that opportunity from him.

It all came to a head when he came home from work and found Jessica sobbing on the kitchen floor, practically catatonic. She had required inpatient psychiatric care after that, at a facility in Santa Clarita. It wasn’t an easy decision for Jake to make, and he worried what the people around him would think, would say behind his back. But he didn’t know what else to do.

The day he dropped Jessica off at the facility, he drove back home in silence. Every song that came on in his Dodge Charger reminded him of her. When he got home, he sat on their living room couch and cried his eyes out. He slept in the guest bedroom for weeks afterwards.

So, when she approached him seven months after she came home from Santa Clarita and told him she wanted to start trying for another baby, he was hesitant. He couldn’t see her put herself through that cycle of guilt and shame again.

“Jessica, are you sure this is something you want?”

They were sitting on the patio together, her legs thrown over his. He had a beer in his hand, and she had an old-fashioned glass bottle of cream soda. She did look better. Her skin was a healthy color, and she had put on enough weight that she looked healthy. She was eating better, staying hydrated. She was almost back to being the woman that Jake had married.

Almost. There was something stirring behind her eyes, just below the surface.

“Jake, I’m better now. I’m medicated, I’m emotionally stable. I know you feel like the bad guy for sending me, but the psych ward did wonders for me.”

Jake winced. “I wish you wouldn’t call it that.”

“Why? That’s what it was. An inpatient mental health facility.”

“Psych ward just sounds so…rough. It was more like high-class rehab for people with mental health issues.”

“Jake, look at me.” She said sternly, resting a hand on his chest. “I want this. But more than that, I want this with you. Nobody else.”

Later that night, after a tender night spent pressed up against each other underneath cotton sheets, they lay next to each other in bed. Jessica had her legs up the wall, like the fertility websites she had spent the week reading had told her to do. Jake lay the opposite way, their faces meeting in the middle of the bed. She was mindlessly tracing shapes against his hairy chest, lost in thought.

“You’re going to be a phenomenal mother.” Jake said sincerely, taking her hand in his. “And this baby is going to be so loved.”

She met his gaze. “You really think we can do it?”

“I know we can. There’s nobody else I would want to bring a child into the world with but you, Jessica.”

Getting pregnant wasn’t easy either. Before long, it became a routine of ovulation calendars and fertility vitamins, as well as routine pregnancy tests. Five months of this routine went by before Jake brought up the elephant in the room and suggested they see a doctor, knowing full well that the LAPD’s insurance coverage didn’t apply to specialist doctors. Especially ones that dealt with fertility issues.

Jessica thought that it was her fault. That something had happened to her womb in the accident that would make it impossible for her to bear children. Four tests and three doctor’s appointments later, it turned out that she wasn’t the problem.

Jake was.

He blinked at the doctor, hand tightening around his wife’s. “I’m sorry, what? I’m not following.”

The doctor smiled sadly at him before reading the results again. “I’m afraid you have a low sperm count, Mr. Seresin. This could be why you’ve been having problems. Its not dangerously low in the sense that you wouldn’t be able to father a child, but it is low enough to be cause for concern. I understand you were able to conceive once before, and I see no reason that you wouldn’t be able to again. You just need a gentle nudge in the right direction.”

Two weeks later, he was still thinking about that conversation. It permeated every waking moment, including the mind-numbing hours spent in the passenger seat of Detective Bradley Bradshaw's battered Ford Edge, watching a laundromat that they knew was operating an illegal casino out of their upper floors.

What kind of man was he if he couldn’t give his wife a baby?

“Kid, how much money have you already spent on this?” Bradley stared at him from behind his aviator sunglasses. “Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

“Its not covered by insurance,” Jake continued, picking at the band of his watch. “And we are thousands of dollars in outstanding invoices. I haven’t told Jessie. How can I? She’d make us stop going, and that would destroy her. She really wants this, Bradley.”

Bradley frowned, popping a cashew into his mouth. “How do you feel about moonlighting?”

Jake scoffed. “What, rent-a-cop private security gigs? Come on, man. I’m a goddamn detective. I don’t need to be doing all that.”

“And yet even on the salary of two second-tier detectives, you can’t afford your own medical bills.” Bradley pointed out. “Just come with me tonight, I’ll pick you up. Jessica doesn’t need to know about it.”

Jake had a bad feeling in his gut that this job wouldn’t be entirely legal. At the same time, he didn’t think he was in any position to be turning down paying work. That night, when he came home from work, Jessica was in the kitchen, lights dimmed low and Amy Winehouse playing from the stereo. She was still dressed in her blazer from work, hips swaying as she stirred the pan on the stove.

“God, baby, that smells incredible. What are you making.”

“Pasta with lamb sauce.” Jessie replied, not looking up from the pan. “Hey, I got you something. Can you open the white envelope I left on your plate?”

Jake left his leather jacket and boots in the front hallway, washing his hands in the kitchen sink before he kissed his wife on the side of the head and moved to open the envelope. He had half slid the contents out of the envelope when his heart slipped a beat.

“Jessica, are you really?”

Jessie switched off the stove, turning to gave her husband with a broad smile on her face. “We did it, Jake. I’m pregnant.”

“Oh my God!” Jake broke into a smile, pulling the ultrasound picture the rest of the way out of the envelope. He thought he was going to tear up looking at the little image, his beautiful baby. “Come here.”

“Jake Seresin, are you crying?” She giggled, wrapping her arms around her husbands waist before leaning up to kiss him.

“Of course I’m fucking crying! We’re going to be parents! I’m so happy right now, honey.”

Laughing with glee, Jake leaned down to kiss his wife. Everything had been worth it. Even though he knew he was running out of time to pay off those invoices before the debt collectors showed up.

Even though he knew babies were expensive, and their expenses would soon start piling up.

Nothing else mattered, because he was going to be a father, and there was nothing Jake Seresin wouldn’t do to protect his family.

Bradley picked him up at eight that night. It was dark outside, the road ahead lit only by the detectives headlights. Bradley never said where they were going or what they were doing, and had shut down all of Jake’s attempts at conversation. The neighborhoods they were driving through were getting richer and richer, and that bad feeling Jake’s stomach continued to grow.

They didn’t park near the house, instead leaving the Ford one block away. Confused, Jake followed Bradley, taking long strides to try and keep up. Something felt off. If their work was above board, why did they park so far away, and why were they sneaking around late at night in Beverly Hills?

He watched as Bradley knocked on the door, the two detectives standing side by side on the large doorstep. As soon as the door opened, Bradley lashed out with a yell, punching the homeowner on the other side in the nose.

“Dude, what the fuck!” Jake shouted, following his partner into the entryway. “What is going on here?”

“Shut up.” Bradley snapped back, digging his phone out of his pocket. He crouched next to the bloodied homeowner, showing him something on his phone. Jake crept closer, trying to get a glimpse of the screen. Playing out on Bradley’s phone, the man in front of them was actively engaging in a threesome with two tall blondes. Given the angle of the recording, he didn’t know it was being filmed

Bradley looked towards one of the pictures in the front hall, showing that same man posing with a stunning Indian woman and their two children.

“I bet your wife and kids wouldn’t be too pleased to know that when you go out of town for a business trip, you’re actually going down to Hollywood to pay to get your dick sucked.”

the man was cowering on the floor, blood dripping onto the tile. “What do you want from me?” He shouted at Bradley.

Jake felt sick and started slowly backing away to the door. This was a side of Bradley he’s never seen before. One that sickened him. Yet somehow, he knew it had to have always been there. There was a reason Hollywoods vice cops had the highest corruption rates.

He just never thought he’d be adding to that statistic.

“Give me twenty grand, and the video gets deleted. Half of the money goes to me, the other half to my friend here.” Bradshaw nodded his head in Jake’s direction. “All cash, totally untraceable. We take gold too. Maybe a Rolex or two if you’ve got them lying around.”

“Man, enough.” Jake insisted. “Come on, let’s just go.”

Bradley glared at him. “Do you want to be able to pay your mortgage or not.”

“No. Not like this.”

“Well,” Bradley started, getting to his feet and kicking the unnamed man in the stomach. “You no longer have a choice.”

They left the house shrouded in an awkward silence. Jake’s hands were shaking, hidden in the pockets of his leather jacket. So many questions were running through his mind as they walked back to Bradley’s car.

“Man, I know it looked rough,” Bradley started “but we’re not doing anything wrong. That man is richer than god, and if he’s gonna cheat on his wife, we might as well get something out of it.”

“You literally beat him until he agreed to give you money, and then made me an accomplice!” Jake hissed. “I just found out my wife is pregnant, I can’t be running around doing shit like this!”

“And if you don’t want to watch your kid grow up from behind bars, you’re going to do exactly as I say.” Bradley huffed, shoving Jake backwards. “From now on, I own you.”

Jessie was asleep on the couch when Jake got home, a paperback book still clutched in her hands. He tried to be quiet as he came in through the front hall, but she stirred anyways.

“Jake,” she smiled. “You’re back. How’s Bradley?”

Jake shrugged. He didn’t want to lie to Jessie, but he was so ashamed of what he had seen that he couldn’t tell her the truth either. “He’s alright. Not much new there, I see him every day. How are you doing? You look exhausted.”

Jessie laughed, pulling the blanket she was wrapped in tighter around her shoulders. “I feel exhausted.”

“You’re doing everything for two now, sweetheart. It’s okay to take some time to rest.” Jake soothed, kissing her forehead gently. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“I love you, Jake Seresin.”

“I love you more, Jessica Seresin.”

Jake Seresin would do whatever it took to keep Jessie safe.

Whatever. It. Took.

Even if it meant being at Bradley Bradshaws beck and call.

[warnersister]

Personal Space

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader

Summary: you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space.

Pt. 2

You never understood why Bradley stuck around. Since the academy you’d preferred to stick to yourself; get your head down and get the job done. Especially with a surname like Mitchell. You didn’t want your father and grandfather’s reputation to negatively proceed you, and by the time people had put two and two together as to whom loins you came from: you’d made your own reputation so Maverick never made much of a difference to it.

But still, having dinner in the mess you’d sat down, when someone came and thudded down next to you and began eating themselves. “I’m Bradley” he said when you finally looked up at him. You raised a brow “Bradshaw?” You ask and he nods: you recognise him from the photos your dad pinned up in your two’s hanger. You hum “and you are?” He asks “not important.” You reply, deciding you’d lost your appetite and stood to clear your plate “good talk!” Bradley said, but you were already walking away.

He’d next encountered you when you were running around the academy, early morning; before any naval training would take place. He hummed and decided it was perfectly acceptable to interrupt your jaunt with his presence. “Hey! Up so early?” He asks as he tries to match your pace from a standstill “could ask you the same.” You reply bluntly “well I wanted to get a run in before-” “well there’s your answer.” You reply, cutting him off. “You run really quick.” He says as you try to keep your pace increasing to shake him off “goodbye, Bradshaw.” You say, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes and taking off at a pace he couldn’t sustain. He just stops and shakes his head smiling, you were funny.

Eventually, you’d both gotten up in the air and were quick to earn your callsigns “Rooster” and “Hen”. Bradley earned his because he was up before the chickens, you’d earned yours because the chicken kept fucking following you around like you were his mother. You were sat on the aircraft carrier, your trainee group learning how to land on a ship deck and you’d finally gotten a moment of peace that evening. You sat on the edge of the deck, feet dangling over the edge as you watched the sunset, not moving when you hear someone slip into the space between the barriers beside you.

“Oh look my chick is back.” You mumble sarcastically and Bradley laughs loudly at you. “You love me really” he says, looking at you as if he wanted to you agree with him “you seem to keep telling yourself that, don’t you?” You hum, turning to watch the sea lap against the grey metal. You can feel him fidgeting beside you, as if antsy to say something. “What?” You ask, finally turning to look at him. “What?” He repeats, looking at you with raised brows “you want to ask me something. You’re fidgeting.” You point out “so ask me or fuck off” you say, turning away again. “Your last name is Mitchell” he says and you roll your eyes “you can read and hear. Two things I’ve learnt today.” You huff, again, with sarcasm. “Are you related to Pete Mitchell?” He asks, looking at you and nearly holding his breath “you finally put two and two together?” You ask and he lets out the breath.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You say after a while “I was a whoopsie baby my mother didn’t want anything to do with” you tell him. “He used to fly with my dad.” Bradley almost whispers, voice just a few octaves above. “I know” you nod “he’s practically wallpapered all over our hanger.” You say “so are you” you eye him. “He pulled my papers” he says, again after a few moments of silence “I know” you say “do you know why?” He asks “yes.” You reply, and he could tell you weren’t going to elaborate. “Y’know I’m not a fan of your dad, but I really like you.” He says and you just look at him with a blank face. “Yup” you hum to yourself and he raises a brow “just as Mother Goose was described” you say, and Bradley’s face immediately lights up with a huge grin, stretching and arm around you and pulling you into his side.

“Get off me.” “Yup, yep, sorry.”

For your first deployment, the academy set it up that you’d at least be with one person from your training squadron, and today the list of names were coming out; they were scribbled on the back of a napkin and pinned to a notice board.

“1. Haywood & Solomons, 2. Hughes & Shelley & Omaha, 3. Cooper & Parker & Cromwell & Smith, 4. Bradshaw,” you crossed your fingers as someone read out the names, then yours was read alongside Bradley’s “oh for god’s sake” you grumble, turning to see Bradley practically jumping for joy. “This is great! Me and you, Hen!” Rooster cheers and you just stare at him “should’ve called you leech cause you’re acting like one. Calm down.” You instruct and he tries to chill out, but the cheeky smile on his face was indiminishagble.

He only became more unbearable then, with you every working hour, your wingman on the missions you’d fly, inseparable despite your complaints. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Hawk asked you, as he came to sit with you for lunch. You shush him loudly. “Woah woah I only asked where he was.” “Speak his name and he shows up. I’m trying to hide.” you say in a hushed voice “plus he isn’t my boyfriend” “sure” he scoffs but the daggers being shot into his head silenced him easily.

“Hey Hen! Hawk” Bradley greets as he sits down. You grunt and point an accusatory finger at Hawk “this is your fault, jackass” you say and he laughs at you, him and Bradley engage in conversation as you just eat, having learnt the skill of drowning him out. “What about you, Hen?” Hawk asked, drawing your attention away from your plate and up to the two men alongside you, you raise an eyebrow - letting them know you were insinuating that you weren’t listening to their conversation.

“Do you want a family?” He ask and you just nod “really?” Hawk asks “that’s cute, didn’t take you for a family gal” he jokes and you harshly kick his leg under the table “kids and everything?” He asks after the pain subsides. “Yup.” You say and Bradley hums “I didn’t know that” he says and you just look at him “you never asked.” You reply simply, and that was true: he hadn’t. He was quite prepared to spend the rest of existence chasing after you, whether that meant giving you your first kiss on your deathbeds.

The two of you even went to Top Gun together, training to be the finest naval aviators of them all. And boy, you two fought to be the best; tongue and teeth, blood sweat and tears, everything. The decision came down to one final dogfight. “May the best aviator win” Rooster jokes, sticking out a hand to you. You eye it and internally question if you were insane, before leaning up to peck his cheek. “Prepare to loose, chicken.” You say, leaving him frozen in his place while you head to your plane. That day, Bradley was seriously off his A-game, and you came out on top.

A Mitchell finally Top Gun.

“Congratulations!” Bradley says excitedly on graduation day when you victoriously lifted the trophy above your head. You turned to him and he leant down slightly - you weren’t stupid, you knew what he was intending to do. “Thank you, Brad.” You say, turning to walk over to where your father was stood - knowing that was probably the only time Bradley wouldn’t follow you. That was the first time you’d ever called him anything short of Bradley Bradshaw.

“I’m so proud of you honey” your dad says, hugging you tightly and you embrace him back, smiling widely “thank you, dad” you respond and he looks behind you where Bradley was stood a while back, watching the ordeal. “Is that-” “yes” you tell him and your dad just looks at you “I wouldn’t get all teary he follows me like a lost puppy” you grumble but he just grins “he’s a good kid, hon.” He says and you shake your head “he’s definitely something”

“So how does their relationship work?” Bob asks Hangman, watching Bradley talk your ear off and you just staring ahead into space, blankly. “You see Bobby my boy,” Jake begins “Hen loves her personal space” Bob nods “Rooster also loves Hen’s personal space.” Bob nods again, now understanding. “Haven’t they done everything together though?” He asks “I think it’s more the fact that Hen does something and Rooster just kinda goes with it” Phoenix said and Bob hums, as Bradley continues to converse one-sidedly with you.

“He means well” you hear from beside you as you stare out from the hanger, turning to see your honorary uncle Tom walking towards you, you run towards him as he embraces you tightly “hey Ice” you smile, sweetly. “Hey sweetheart” he croaks. “I mean what I said.” He states and you raise a brow “he means well” he nods towards the man doing his required push ups on the ground with Hondo. “I know, Ice.” You tell him. “No, I don’t think you do” he hums and you raise your eyebrows at him. “The kids in love with you. You’ve either got to let him in or tell him to get out.” He says, “you’re living together for goodness sake”. “It was cheaper” you argue “we both know the accommodation is subsidised.” He states, matter-of-factly, patting your shoulder as he turns to go talk to your dad when he walks into the room.

It was true, you and Bradley were sharing accommodation. “Hey Hen, they’ve offered us shared accommodation back in Miramar” Bradley says, coming over with a pamphlet. “Why?” You ask, taking it out of his hands. ‘Married couple accommodation’ it states and you raise your brows “you getting ahead of yourself, Bradshaw?” You ask and he shakes his head “the guy assumed our callsigns were cause we’re a couple” he tells you and you just hum. “Well I’d rather stay there than in an apartment.” You say simply, giving him back the leaflet and refocusing on the plane you were working on repairing. “Seriously?” He asks, voice overly hopeful. You look at him and shrug “just go get the damn house, Bradshaw. Before I change my mind!” You say and he grins, turning and breaking out into almost a jog to head to confirm your living situation.

You take a moment of hesitation, before loudly groaning and heading out onto the tarmac, getting down and doing push ups alongside Rooster. He turns his head and looks at you and you just raise your brows at him. “Hey honey” he grins “hello Bradley” he nudges your hip with his own. “I’ll drive us home.” You tell him, and he raises his eyebrows “Home?” He asks and you huff “okay, Bradley I will drive the two of us back to our shared accommodation that we accidentally got given.” You say and he laughs loudly “home sounded better.”

Then after the mission, the whole Dagger squad got permanently stationed in San Diego, other than deployment, so they urged the new additions to the base to buy their own properties closer to base rather than on it. You and Bradley were sat in the Hard Deck, a long time before it was open, the rest of the Daggers spending time on the beach while the two of you were scouring Bradley’s laptop for a property. Well, Bradley was.

How about this one? He turns his screen to you. You shake your head “I want grass in the garden. I want to plant flowers” you say as you point at the paved back of the house, explaining that it’s a waste of money to have it ripped out. Bradley nods “Mkay, garden” he says, moving back to look again.

“How about this one? Beach front, close to the running track for you. Only a walk from the Hard Deck. White picket fence, really” he hums, turning the laptop again “garden?” You ask and he nods “garden.” He nods with a grin. “Shall we go look?” You ask and he raises a brow at you. “You said it’s a walk from the hard deck. Let’s go.” You say, putting the address into your phone and immediately recognising the street name, Bradley quickly falling into step with you as you walk towards the property.

You look at it and place your hands on your hips. Bradley was right. Pretty damn perfect. “Can I help you?” A lady asks, walking outside of the house, clipboard in hand. “Oh no, we’d just seen this property online and wanted to take a look.” Bradley tells her. “Well I’ve had a no-show on a viewing. How’d you like to take a look?” She suggests, motioning to the open door. “Okay” you nod, following her into the house.

“Obviously the kitchen, living room, even a deck out back with a huge garden and high fences” she says nodding out the window and you hum. “Out the side there’s an entrance straight to the beach” she motions, then starts heading up the stairs “three bedrooms, attic space, bathroom” she says “I’m guessing it’s just you two at the moment?” She asks “oh we’re not-” Bradley begins “yes, just us.” You confirm, shutting him up. “Okay, so there’s a large room for your bed and then if any new additions are to join, you have the space for them” she smiles and leads you back out front.

“It’s not cheap, it’s California. So I understand if you’re not prepared to pay that much money, do you mind me asking what you do?” She asks “we’re naval aviators.” Bradley says “stationed here?” She asks and you both nod “ah! I get why you’re looking for a property here!” She says and Bradley looks at you. “I really like it, Roo.” You say, and Bradley has to stop his jaw hitting the floor at your nickname. “It’s your call, honey” he says and you look at the lady and smile as she offers her hand “we’ll take it.”

“How shall we split the payment?” You ask Bradley as you walk back to the Hard Deck after organising a meeting with the realtor to actually finalise all the kinks and bumps. “I don’t mind doing the down payment then we’ll take it in turn paying the loan” he suggests “we can get a joint bank account and do it that way” you say and he agrees as you settle back into your seats at the Hard Deck. “Where’ve you two been?” Hangman asks “we bought a house.”

One evening, after you were all moved in and were hanging out at the Hard Deck after a long day or routine flying, you were sat outside with Rooster; watching the sunset. “When are we getting married then?” You ask and he spits out his beer “what?” He asks, eyes wide and getting progressively more giddy. “Well we live together, we have a joint bank account, and Jake keeps telling me we’re practically married. So when are we getting married?” You ask as he hugs you tightly “whenever you want, baby” he says, kissing the top of your head and pulling a ring out of his pocket to get on his knee. “Will you marry me?” He asks and you raise a brow “didn’t I just say that?” You ask bluntly “just say yes, please” he begs and you nod “yes. Yes I will marry you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You confirm as he kisses your lips gently.

“Okay get off of me now.”

Pt. 2

[littlebirdygirlywriting]

Eeeeekkkkkkkk thisssss issss soooooo cutteeeee!!!!!! 😍😍😍 I love it I love it I love it!!! 🥹

“Manifesting, darlin’.” Like— 😫🤤🫠😍🥹💖💖

manifesting

summary: from the moment he laid eyes on you, he just knew, and he’s only ever referred to you as his wife.

warnings: she/her, mention of bars (idk), fluff fluff fluff!

word count: 521.

a/n: long time no see! i knewww i had to write something and this idea has been stuck in my noggin for quite a while. happy valentine’s day and i hope you love it!

***

The first time Jake Seresin saw you, he knew.

He hadn’t even spoken to you yet—hadn’t had the chance. You were laughing at something your friend said, eyes crinkling at the corners as you leaned against the bar at the Hard Deck, completely unaware of the way Jake was standing there, beer halfway to his lips, suddenly frozen in place.

That’s my wife.

The thought came out of nowhere, knocking the breath out of his chest. It wasn’t like him to get caught off guard, but here he was, struck dumb in the middle of the bar, watching you exist like you were placed on this Earth just for him.

The worst part? He didn’t even have the nerve to walk up and say hello.

Oh, he tried. Multiple times. But every time he got close, you were either walking away, mid-conversation with someone else, or—God forbid—he chickened out at the last second. He, Jake Seresin, who had never been shy a day in his life, had turned into a complete coward over one woman.

Still, it never stopped him from calling you what he knew you were.

Over the next few weeks, his friends caught on.

“Hangman, who the hell are you looking for?” Rooster asked one night, watching as Jake’s eyes scanned the Hard Deck like he was on a mission.

“My wife,” he answered simply.

Natasha choked on her drink. “Your what?”

“My wife,” he repeated like it was obvious. “She’s usually here on Thursdays.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed. “You mean that girl you won’t even talk to?”

Jake gave her a slow, lazy grin. “Manifesting, darlin’.”

Natasha and Rooster exchanged looks, then promptly burst into laughter.

“You’re ridiculous,” Rooster muttered, shaking his head.

But Jake didn’t care. Because deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time.

—

Years later, Jake leaned against the kitchen counter of the house you now shared, watching as you laughed at him—full-on, doubled-over, tears-in-your-eyes laughing.

“Wait, wait—” You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. “You’re telling me that for months before we even spoke, you were going around calling me your wife?”

Jake shrugged, sipping his coffee like it wasn’t a big deal. “Worked, didn’t it?”

You gaped at him, still half-laughing, half-astonished. “Jake. You manifested our relationship.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying, sweetheart,” he said, ever so smug.

You shook your head, stepping closer until you were standing between his legs, hands resting on his chest. “So, let me get this straight—you saw me once, decided I was going to marry you, and just… ran with it?”

Jake set his coffee down and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Darlin’, the second I laid eyes on you, I knew there was no way in hell I was lettin’ you be anything but mine.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in them betrayed you. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he said, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You huffed a small laugh, leaning into him. “Yeah, yeah. You were right.”

Jake grinned, pressing his lips to yours. “Told ya.”

[vivwritesfics]

"What do you mean his name is Bob?"

Your girl friends all laughed around you as they repeated your boyfriends name. "Nobody is called Bob in this day and age," said another one of your girl friends. "That's a grumpy old man's name."

You sank in your seat and sipped your drink. "Shut up," you grumbled. "His name is Bob and that's that."

"Still," they said. "I bet he calls you honey and shit like that."

He did call you honey.

And you loved it.

It was at that moment when you realised that you and your girl friends were at different stages of life. They were fucking around and having fun (honestly, as they should), and you had found someone to settle down with. Someone who made you unbelievably happy.

His name just so happened to be Bob.

"So," said another one of your girl friends. "When do we get to meet this famous Bob?" She asked.

Reluctantly, you answered. "He's picking me up later."

The evening progressed. The teasing about your sweet boyfriend's name continued, but it had lightened up significantly.

As you finished up your final drink, your phone buzzed on the table. I'm here, sweetheart xx, the text said.

Picking up you bag, you pulled your skirt down slightly. "He's here, isn't he?" One of your girl friends called, eyes lighting up. "Can we meet him?"

Releasing a sigh, you gestured for them to follow you out of the bar. Bob's truck was outside, with Bob leaning against it.

Wearing a sweater and jeans, scruff from where he hadn't been shaving while on leave, and his glasses. He looked like a dream.

"That's not him," one of your girl friends whispered in disbelief. "That hunk is not called Bob."

He looked over to you and your little group and pushed away from the truck, grinning as he approached. "Hi, honey," he said and wrapped his arms around you.

You leaned into him and his lips met the top of your head. "Bob, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Bob."

He shook each of their hands and began asking who needed a ride home.

Bob might have been a grumpy, old man's name, but your Bob was the sweetest man out there.

[ddejavvu]

MEI i have severe top gun maverick brain rot and all i can think about is reader being the admirals daughter and everyone assumes rooster or hangman is gonna go after her but it turns out she’s been hooking up with bob for AGES and they’re all like ??? how did you do that???? bob gets kinda flustered but readers just like idk he was really nice and he’s really good in bed

"Check it out," Phoenix elbows Bob where the man is engrossed in reading the back of the bar napkins Penny had handed them so that they didn't stain her tables again, "There's Mav's daughter. 'Think she's got that Hawaiian shirt on to seduce Rooster?"

Bob's eyes dart to where you're chatting with Penny, his shoulders stiffening as his friends turn to watch you.

"Nah, Rooster doesn't like orange. But those cowboy boots she's got on are probably for Hangman- didn't he say he'd teach her how to square dance?"

Penny reaches over the bar to tug affectionately at one of your braids and Bob tries to no avail to break the conversation.

"Actually, she's-"

"I'd say she was here to meet Fanboy, but she doesn't date losers," Phoenix's eyes are narrowed dangerously, and she hides a smirk against the rim of her bottle.

"Hey! Hangman's a bigger loser than I am!" He protests, but before the taller man can trap him in a headlock, Penny points towards the dagger squad where they're lounged in a corner of the bar, and your eyes shine as you rush over.

"Bob!" You shriek, throwing your arms around his neck and letting your legs bend when he hoists you off of the ground for a hearty hug. His muscles are well hidden beneath his regulation khakis, but he's built for much heavier loads than you, and he lets you hover a few inches off of the ground while he hugs you.

Your face is buried in his neck but you press a kiss against his cheek, catching the bewildered blinking of the rest of his squadron over his shoulder.

"Oh. I forgot you didn't know." You supply, your feet back on the ground as Bob keeps one arm slung loosely around your waist, "Sorry, we- uh, we've been hooking up for a while, it's just... I haven't seen him since you guys got shipped out."

"You've been hooking up with her?" Coyote stares down his nose at Bob who shifts subtly closer to you, nodding once, stiffly in the face of his teammate's scrutiny.

"Damn. And he was good enough in bed to keep you waiting 'til he got back?"

Bob flushes - you feel his skin warm where it's pressed against your own, and you fill the awkward silence.

"Oh, please. I'm sure you've seen it in the locker room; I'd wait a lifetime."

Bob scoffs over your shoulder, now even more flustered, but Phoenix is happy to save the situation.

"Does your dad know?" She tilts her chin towards you, remembering how viscerally uncomfortable their Captain had been whenever someone had suggested you get together with one of his aviators.

"Of course he knows," You laugh, "He's the one that set us up! 'Said Bob had to get his hands on me before Texas over there tried to Hold 'Em."

Bob wraps an arm protectively over your chest, leaning over your shoulder from behind to return a kiss against your own cheek.

Hangman whistles lowly, shaking his head with a dazed look, "Well, shit. I didn't know the offer to hold 'em was on the table, but-shit!"

Bob's face darkens but Rooster levels the toe of his boot with Hangman's lower thigh, striking him at the back of the knee and subsequently spilling beer over his khakis. Hangman grunts as his knees knock against the beer-sticky floor, but he seems to know he deserved what he'd gotten because he doesn't retaliate.

"We'll wrangle him." Rooster promises, "You two go have fun, Bob you gotta quarter for the jukebox?"

"Yes'sir," Bob nods, tugging you towards a lesser populated area- perfect for slow dancing even if the bar isn't, "Let's make up for lost time, honey."

[ruerecs]

𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒈𝒖𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒔 𝒊𝒗.

JAKE 'HANGMAN' SERESIN.

secret wife by @ddejavvu

the beanery by @callsign-peach

left at the alter by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

watermelons by @promisingyounglady

loving you is easy by @thewulf

start the year right by @theharddeck

when jake met polly by @honkytonk-hangman

TAKE A BITE by @dearsnow

BRADLEY 'ROOSTER' BRADSHAW.

valentines S.O.S by @bellaireland1981

for you i'd wait forever by @katsu28

carolina? by @senawashere

angel in the infield by @bradshawssugarbaby

between friends by @sometimesanalice

NATASHA 'PHOENIX' TRACE.

THE FOUNTAIN OF YOU by @moonlight-prose

call out our names by @lenafromthenordiccoven

let your senses guide you by @topguncortez

nat discovers your nipple piercings by @sehnsuchts-trunken

ROBERT 'BOB' FLOYD.

'cause you're so smooth by @bussyslayer333

pretend by @attapullman

four eyes by @promisingyounglady

i got chills, they're multiplying by @deakyjoe

deserve it by @withahappyrefrain

i'm not sorry

it's inevitable

by @drabbles-mc

BIRDS OF A FEATHER by @dearsnow

shopping lists by @sebsxphia

JAVY 'COYOTE' MACHADO.

bones, hearts & marriages by @hangmanssunnies

and i want to make her mine by @beyondthesefourwalls

BRADLEY 'N' JAKE.

it's to you i will always return by @blue-aconite

up the ante by @sometimesanalice

no keying cars by @foreverrandomwritings

why not forever? by @roosterforme

thick thighs save lives by @ddejavvu

[sebsxphia]

shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob was starving.

He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.

It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.

Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.

Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.

As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”

Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.

As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.

The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.

As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.

It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.

A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.

He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.

As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.

He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.

Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.

At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.

“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.

As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.

“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.

You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”

As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.

“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.

Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.

You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.

You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.

Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.

“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.

“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.

Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.

“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”

You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.

“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”

You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.

“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.

You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.

That’s what he thought.

As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.

You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.

Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.

He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.

He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.

“Hello again.”

The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.

Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.

“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”

“I forgot some tom—”

You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.

“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.

“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.

Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.

“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”

Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.

“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.

“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”

You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”

The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.

His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.

When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.

Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.

You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.

“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”

You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.

“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere

[dearsnow]

12:29 AM

- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you can’t say that he’s any less sweet. (robert “bob” floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things i’ve ever written, ⚠️ obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)

word count: 1,502

a/n - i haven’t written a fic with a timestamp as the title in… (checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 he’s definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.

It’s not often that your husband stays out late, and it’s not often that he doesn’t text you while he’s out, but you trust him. He’s not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.

Well, he looks neither right now, as he’s supported by Jake and Javy’s arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologetically— as apologetic as he can get for a situation that’s likely his fault. “Sorry, hun.” He huffs, shifting around Bob’s weight. “There were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didn’t realize they were full of alcohol.”

“You guess?” You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. “I can’t believe you guys.”

Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworker’s promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesn’t even need to promise, if you’re being honest, because that’s just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.

Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. “We tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, we’re gonna have to leave him with you.”

You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, you’re scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. “Thanks. It’s so great that he’s drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.” Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.

Jake pats you on the shoulder. “Good luck, soldier. You’ll need it.”

With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldn’t wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.

He’s still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, he’s blushing like a madman, and he’s groaning lightly, but he’s not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.

“Wife.”

You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. “Yes?”

“I… have a wife. Y’ can’t touch me like that.” He mumbles. It feels like he’s looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.

You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. “I am your wife.”

His eyes widen like he’s seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. “S’ pretty. You’re really my wife? My girl?” In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.

“Yes.” You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.

“Love you. I missed you.” He mumbles. “Spent that whole party wonderin’ when I could see you again.” He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.

“I missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in jeans and a polo.” As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesn’t work very well, considering he’s still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. “Sit up, my love.”

He sits up, winking at you heavily. It’s more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. “Can’t wait to get me naked?”

A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. He’s funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isn’t trying to be. It’s like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. “Sure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.”

His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. “Like it?”

“I always do.” You hum. He does have a great body, one that you’ve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, it’s a bit of a problem as you’re attempting to get his jeans off. He’s still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. “Can you stand, Bobby?”

“Gladly.” He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.

You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, he’s been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. He’s still moving awkwardly and shifting around like he’s constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but it’s better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.

You lay him back down after he’s dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. You’re already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. He’s always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.

He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. “Y’know,” he starts, “I can’t sleep without your arms ‘round me, and your legs ‘round me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. ‘M up all night when I’m deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.”

You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. It’s like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. “I’m sorry, baby. That must be hard.” You soothe.

“Payback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didn’t help. He threatened to ‘come up there n’ cuddle me himself’ if I didn’t stop moving.” He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isn’t covered in three layers of blankets and you.

“Did he ever follow through?” You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.

“Thank god he didn’t.” He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that you’re losing it next to him.

When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. “Love ya. G’night.” He whispers. It’s so soft that you almost start laughing again.

“Good night, Bobby. Love you too.” You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.

He’s going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least he’ll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.

Taglist: @seitmai

[captainsophiestark]

A Very Dagger Christmas

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Jake's down bad for his SO in a way his friends have never seen before, and they want to make sure his SO knows it.

Word Count: 2,015

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"You cheated! I saw you bump the ball, don't try to deny it!"

"I did not cheat! You just suck at pool!"

"Pilots! I will ban pool for the rest of the night if I have to. Don't test me."

"Sorry, Penny..."

I watched the unfolding drama around the pool table of the Hard Deck with a smile as I sipped the last of my hot chocolate. Penny had closed the whole place for a little early Christmas celebration between her, Amelia, Mav, and the Daggers, and as the partner of Jake Seresin, I'd been invited along this year. The atmosphere, food and drink, and free entertainment all combined to make this my favorite Christmas party attended so far.

"Hey."

I looked up to see my boyfriend, Jake, crossing the room towards me with a big smile and two mugs in his hands. I shifted over a little on the cushy loveseat Penny had moved in for the evening's party, giving Jake room to settle in next to me.

"I brought you another cup of hot chocolate," he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead as I took the mug from him. "Not spiked, although I still don't know how you're putting up with all these idiots sober."

I laughed. "I love your friends, Jake. And I want to remember all the embarassing shit they pull clear as day, so I can use it against them later."

"And that's why you're the best. Amazing." Jake leaned in to punctuate his statement with a kiss, this time on the lips. I smiled into the kiss, then snuggled into Jake's chest once we broke apart. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, holding me closely, and the moment was one of absolutely perfect peace and comfort despite the chaos continuing around us.

"Thanks for inviting me along to this, by the way," I said, my voice low as I curled into Jake, more relaxed than I'd been all week in the leadup to this party. Jake hummed, and I could feel the vibrations all through his chest.

"Thanks for agreeing to come. I've been to a few of these now, and this one's already a lot better with you here. A lot." I leaned even further into Jake, squeezing his thigh gently with my free hand. After a moment, Jake continued. "Although, honestly, you might want to wait to thank me until after we play Dirty Santa."

I let out a long, heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of my nose.

"Babe. I hate it when you call it that. You live in California now, it's White Elephant! Dirty Santa sounds like something much different and much worse than a fun gift exchange."

"Worse?" asked Jake, a familiar grin and note of mischief in his tone as he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his arm wandering from my shoulders to my waist. When he spoke again, it was nothing more than a low growl in my ear. "Or better?"

I considered for a moment, then shook my head and leaned back as much as I could in the small loveseat.

"No. The delivery and everything normally would've worked, but not for the phrase 'Dirty Santa', and not at the non-blood-relative family Christmas party. Nice try, through."

Jake just smiled and shook his head. He leaned in again, pulling me towards him like he was about to double down, but before he got the chance, we were interrupted by a few of his friends shouting from the pool table.

"Hangman! Get over here, we need some fresh blood at this pool table!"

Jake just rolled his eyes and waved the guys off, but they refused to take no for an answer. After a moment, I leaned up and kissed Jake on the cheek and gave him a little smile, then moved his arm from around my shoulders myself.

"Go," I said. "You've got honor to defend in pool, and you should probably get a game or two in now before Penny inevitably has to ban it."

Jake grinned, but he didn't move from the seat next to me.

"...Are you sure? I don't want to abandon you."

I just waved him off. "I'm fine, I like all your friends, and I already know most of them pretty well. No risk of abandonment here, I promise."

"Great." Jake leaned in to give me a quick kiss, then pulled back with a grin that spelled trouble. "Then I have some people who need to get their asses kicked in pool."

With that, he hopped up and took off to join the group at the pool table. I watched him with a fond smile, a warm glow sitting in my chest. He was absolutley ridiculous, but he was also absolutely wonderful.

While I was busy watching Jake, Natasha wandered over and took a seat in the chair next to me. I gave her a little smile, then turned back to watching Jake. After a moment, I heard her huff a little laugh, and I turned my attention back to her with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just... I've never seen him like this."

I frowned, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"Nat-?"

"Hangman. It's been... nice, but really weird to see him like this."

"Nat, like what?"

She shook her head, her attention drifting to where my boyfriend was in the middle of trash talking at the pool table. She huffed another laugh, then turned back to me.

"He's wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. That matches with yours. Do you know what happened the last time someone tried to get Hangman to do that?"

"...No..."

"He dumped the one Coyote tried to force him into in a pool of oil from the planes."

I snorted, my hand flying to my mouth to cover a disbelieving laugh. I kept waiting for Natasha to smile or something to let me know she was joking, but her expression stayed dead serious.

"...Really?"

"Yes, really! And you're the first partner he's ever brought to more than one of our events, the first one he hasn't given a bunch of shit to for not drinking with him, the first one in years any of us have bothered to learn the name of. He's in a good mood, he's clearly just as happy to sit with you over here as he is to be in the middle of the pool game over there. Even right after he and Rooster get into it, he smiles at you two seconds later and it's like nothing even happened. Do you know how long those stupid moods of his usually last?"

I huffed a laugh and shook my head. Everything Natasha was saying had my heart racing, but I didn't want to let my imagination run away from me. Surely I didn't have that big of an impact on Jake, no matter what Natasha seemed to think.

"Hey guys," said Mickey, coming over to join the two of us with a smile. "I needed to get the hell out of that pool game while I still could. It's about to be a knock down dragout between Mav, Rooster, and Hangman. We're taking bets on how long it'll be before Penny bans pool and who's going to be the final straw to cause it if you guys want in."

"...What are the current odds?" asked Natasha, leaning forward. Mickey quickly walked her through the bet layout as it stood, then continued with a grin before she could stake anything.

"There's one other rule you should be aware of: no one's allowed to send our newest extended family member into the fray to influence the odds."

He nodded towards me when he said it, and I raised an eyebrow, but Nat almost shot out of her chair in indignation.

"What? Come on, where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that we can actually take bets without a win card in everybody's pocket that can keep the game going all night."

Nat threw her hands up and flopped back in her chair, which was my cue to lean forward.

"Mickey... what are you talking about?"

"Hangman's one of the three live wires over there that's going to get way too competitive and ruin the game. If you go over there, you're gonna calm him down and totally ruin the fairness of our bet."

I laughed and shook my head, copying Nat and flopping back in my chair.

"I think you guys are seriously overestimating my influence on Jake's fundamental personality. We've been together long enough now that I think I would've noticed if he was a completely different person around me."

"Okay, first of all, no you wouldn't have," started Mickey. "If he were a different person around you, you'd only ever see the person he is around you, because you're necessarily around him when you're seeing him. And second, we're not saying he's a totally different person."

Nat hummed like she might disagree, and Mickey gave her a little nod.

"Okay, at least I'm not. What we're really trying to say is... he's obviously pretty committed, and very happily tied down. It's made him more grounded in a way that I honestly never thought I'd see. But it's nice, and it's definitely because of you."

I just hummed, processing Mickey's words. Jake and I had been dating for a few months, and although we hadn't really sat down to talk about it, we were clearly getting pretty serious. At least, I was. And it was nice to know that Jake's friends seemed to notice the same thing coming from Jake.

I stayed in my seat chatting with Natasha and Mickey for a while longer, until pool was eventually called off with Amelia having won the bet, to no one's surprise. Everyone wandered over to join Nat, Mickey, and I to begin White Elephant, and Jake settled into the loveseat next to me again.

"How was pool?" I asked as he handed me another mug of hot chocolate, further defending his position as my dream man.

"Fine, until Rooster started cheating. And then he has the nerve to call me on it when I started doing it to, to level the playing field!"

I just laughed and curled further into Jake's chest as he shot Rooster an aggressive stink eye. Luckily for all of us, Rooster didn't catch it.

The rest of the night passed much more peacefully sans pool table, even though White Elephant was as explosive as Jake had been expecting. Still, once it was over and we'd all settled in to relax together by the fire, any of the negatively chaotic moments of the night were long forgotten.

I laid my head on Jake's chest, listening to the soothing rythm of his heartbeat as Jake ran his hand gently up and down my arm. I was honestly on the edge of drifting off to sleep when Jake's voice drew me back. He was speaking quietly, right next to my ear, so softly that I wasn't sure he even meant for me to hear him.

"I love you. So fucking much."

I shifted just enough to meet Jake's eyes. He seemed surprised to find me awake, but a determination I usually only saw when I got to visit him on base was shining in his eyes.

"I love you," he repeated, louder this time. "And it's okay if you aren't ready to say it back or don't want to or whatever. But... I need you to know. I love you more than I've ever loved somebody before."

I smiled, my heart melting as I leaned up to kiss Jake. I ran my hands through the hair on the back of his neck, then pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again and whispered against his lips.

"I love you too, Jake. More than anyone or anything. So, so much."

His face lit up like the sun. His arm wrapped tight around my waist, and he pulled me closer to him than was probably appropriate for our current setting. He kissed me, hard, and I kissed him right back. I'd been in love with Jake Seresin for a while now, but it was nice to finally say it out loud. And even nicer to hear it back.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[eternalsams]

Your Woman ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warning/content: 18+ (dear minors, interact and I'll block you), nudity, fluff, smut (dry wet humping, thigh riding?)

summary: when Jake and you decide to shower together, you realize you also have to share the playlist.

word count: 728 (this is so short i'm ashamed)

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration. Please don't come at me for the mockery of the country music, I love country music and I love Texas (only because they give us men like Glen Powell and Jensen Ackles)

masterlist

"Right... Cause saving water is the only reason you wanna shower with me?" You chuckle as you grab two fresh towels. "Of course! What other reason would I have?" Jake peaks his head from behind the shower curtain with a sly smirk. You huff and start undressing, not having it in you to deny your boyfriend what you both know you want. As you were about to open the curtain and step into the shower with him, he stops you. "Wait, can you put some music on? My phone's on the bed." You roll your eyes and chuckle before leaving the bathroom to grab his phone.

You see a text from Javy, telling Jake to hurry up if he wanted free beer. You chuckle once more and open Jake's music app. You click on the first playlist suggested and lock the phone before stepping into the shower. Jake's arm immediately wraps around your waist and you let out a gasp as you almost slip on the wet tile. "I gotcha', darlin'." He leans in to you and brush his lips against yours. "My hero..." You mutter and he smiles widely before kissing you.

The hand on your waist slides down to your ass and kneads the flesh, making you giggle against his lips. His other hand snakes at the back of your neck as he parts your lips with his tongue, licking deliciously into your mouth. Jake grabs the back of your thigh and pull you more into him, slotting one of his legs between yours. The friction of his muscular thigh against your core has you whimpering but Jake doesn't do anything more than just swaying his hips with yours. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath after he just kissed the air out of your lungs. That's when you hear it, the music. The sounds of the electric guitar playing country has you rolling your eyes and scoffing. "Don't make fun of my music, sweetheart." Jake purrs, looking down at you. "I'm not making fun. I just don't like it." You defend yourself. The swaying of his hips in rhythm has you quietly whining as his leg rubs perfectly against your pussy. "I feel like you're rather enjoying yourself." He chuckles, dipping his head to place a kiss on your lips. "You're not playing fair." You sigh, trying to suppress the shiver that's threatening to make your body tremble.

"I can't believe how much it turns me on..." Jake's low voice sings along the music, making you chuckle. "There's no hurry, don't you worry..." He keeps singing, swaying his hips in rhythm and pecking kisses along your jaw. "We can take our time." You finish the lyrics and Jake pulls away to look at you with a surprised smile. "You do know the lyrics. Come a little closer..." He accompanies his words by pulling you even closer and dragging your clit over his thigh and having you whining for more. You can feel his hardening cock poking at your hip but you don't care, you cannot think of anything else than the delicious feeling of his skin rubbing on your clit. Your lips latch onto his neck and your teeth nibble at his skin as you start to feel the knot in your tummy tightening.

Never in your life you would have thought you could have an orgasm to country music. But here you are, gasping and squeezing Jake's shoulders as you came on his thigh, listening to him singing along some stupid country ballad. "That's it, let go for me sweetheart." He purrs next to your ear, holding you firmly as he kept swaying his hips to help you ride out your orgasm. You let your head fall on his shoulder and he tenderly kisses the back of your head as you're catching your breath. "Such a good girl." He grabs your face and makes you look at him, giving you a soft smile. "So good for me." You return the smile weakly and reach for his face to kiss him. The song finally ends and when you think you can go back to having a normal shower, another country song starts. "Nope, not doing this again." You say as you step out of the shower to change his playlist. Jake only laughs and try to ignore to throbbing ache between his legs.

taglist:

@hardballoonlove

@blue-aconite

@iliketopgun

@callsign-hummingbird

@roosterforme

@jessicab1991

@atarmychick007

@hangmansgbaby

@callsigns-haze

@mamachasesmayhem

@els-marvelvsp

@djs8891

[muxshwriting]

never too late

Jake Seresin x reader

summary: jake gets a phone call that changed everything || warnings: hospitals, best friend Jake, pregnancy, childbirth, pushing my girldad jake agenda, but the baby's not actually his || word count: 997 || masterlist

You'd known Jake since you were kids, growing up a few doors down from each other in Texas and spending most of your time with each other. There was nothing more that had happened, despite your wishes. When Jake joined the Navy, you naturally drifted apart but always found the tie to be there for him.

You had made it to his graduation, he had made it to your graduation from college. By sheer coincidence, you had managed to land a job near Jake's stationed post and it felt like nothing could come between you two. Then he got the phone call he had never expected.

"Jake? Can you come and pick me up? I'm at the hospital."

One phone call turned his whole life around. Jake came tearing into your room, his eyes searching erratically.

"You're alright?"

You nod, not saying anything because if you did, you would start crying.

"What's wrong?"

You always forgot how easily he could read you, your emotions, your mannerisms. There was no hiding anything from him. "I'm pregnant."

"Are we happy about that?" Jake asked carefully.

"I don't know." The tears are forming in the corners of your eyes and you can't hold them back.

"Okay." Jake perched on the bed next to you. "Okay. We'll figure it out. Do you know the Dad?"

"I already called him. He doesn't want it, says he'll sign his rights away if I have it. But I don't know."

He pulls you into him, letting your tears stain his shirt. He's whispering anything into your hair to calm you, to reassure you that it would be alright. You'd figure it out, it wouldn't be like this forever. If you needed him, he's there. You only have to ask and he's on your side.

And Jake kept to his word. When you decided to keep the baby and raise it yourself, he was there by your side, promising to teach your child everything he could. He accompanied you to every appointment, cradling your bump as it grew and setting up the nursery for you.

He gripped you hand tightly as the nurse moved the ultrasound wand over your stomach. "Everything's looking good, do you want to know the gender?"

On instinct, you look to Jake but he's already grinning at you. He motioned his head towards the screen.

"Yes please."

The tech turned the screen around so you could see your baby and Jake's grip tightened even more. "Congratulations mom and dad, you're having a baby girl."

The elation you feel doesn't give you a pause to correct the tech and Jake doesn't correct her either as he's pressing a kiss to you forehead and beaming even brighter. "A girl! We're having a girl." In your happiness, you don't have the heart to correct Jake either. And part of you doesn't want to.

As time passed, you regretted not acting on your feelings when you were younger so that Jake could be the father of your child, so he would be part of your new family. But that was delusion, he was your best friend. He didn't love you like that, he couldn't.

You put the thought aside as a pain rippled down your side and a liquid rushed down your legs and the panic set in. You knew this was coming but nothing prepared you for the startling realisation that you would met your daughter today. There's only one person you can call.

For the second time in his life, Jake receives a phone call turned his whole life around.

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure!"

"You're home?"

"Yes."

"I'm coming to get you."

He's there in record time, fussing over your bag as he practically carries you to his truck, too concerned to let you walk. The concern didn't stop as he rushed you into the hospital and over to the desk.

"Mom, Dad are we ready?"

"I'm ready to get this baby out of me!"

"Let's get started."

Your contractions rip through you, your progress slow ad steady. And when you were finally ready, the uncertainty bled into your bones. "I can't do this."

Jake, who had been diligently guarding your bed side, squeezed your hand. "You have walked through hell to be here, to birth this baby. This will not defeat you." Jake's words sent a shiver down your spine. "You're undefeatable. Say it for me."

"I- I'm undefeatable?"

"You're undefeatable." He agrees. "You're gonna have this baby."

It's as you're staring into his eyes, unaware of the situation around you that you find the strength to confess. "I love you."

Jake smiles but it's not a smile of pure happiness. It holds a subtle sadness like he thinks you don't mean your words. "I love you too, but let's have a baby, yeah?" Without another word, he clambers up onto the bed behind you and settles so your leaning against him.

A contraction ripples through as you focus on the feeling on Jake behind you, his hands cradling yours as he presses constant kisses into your hair. You're sobbing by the end of it, catching your breath as the doctor looks up at you.

"We'll push on the next one, okay?"

You nod but turn to face Jake. "I love you, I'm sorry but I mean it."

A light bursts in his eyes but the pain returns before he can answer. You're pushing with all your might, unsure if you can actually do this. Then his voice is in your head, echoing through your mind.

"I love you, I've always loved you. You can do this, I love you, you can do this. Please, we're gonna have a baby. I believe in you."

With a final breath, your daughter's scream fill the room and you slump back onto Jake. She's brought to you and placed on your chest, the picture of perfection as you can't take your eyes off her.

"She's perfect." You whisper.

"She's you, of course she'd be perfect."

[robertsfloyd]

Military Issued

Bradley was warned he'd be given an Omega if he didn't get his act together. He knows what happens to Omegas with military Alphas - he doesn't want to be the reason an Omega goes through that. But he just can't get his act together.

Alpha!Rooster X Omega!Reader

part two

"I don't want one," Bradley growled out for what felt like the millionth time since he'd stepped foot in Cyclones office.

Nothing about this was right. Being called into the office, Mav standing behind like he had something to do with all of this. Knowing him, he probably did.

"Look, Rooster." Cyclone linked his fingers together and leaned forward in a way that suggested Bradley had no choice in the matter. "You keep flying like you want to kill yourself and you won't give us much of a choice,"

"No."

Every word out of his mouth had been a growl since they'd made the suggestion. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He didn't need an Omega.

Maverick sighed and stepped forward. "This is for your own good, Bradley," he said and Bradley glared like a petulant child. Not a man in his thirties. "I can't lose you, too."

An Omega. A military issued one at that. Most Alphas in the navy could only dream of such a thing. Most met an Omega, couldn't bare to part with them and quit their jobs. A military issued Omega stayed with their Alphas on base, only parting for missions and such. It was cruel on the Omegas, but the military didn't care.

His father had been an Alpha. But Nick had met Carole, the prettiest Omega he ever laid eyes on (as he used to say to Mav) and he wanted out. It was Maverick who convinced him to stay, who convinced him to go to Top Gun.

Bradley remembered when his dad died. He didn't remember details, didn't remember receiving the news. But he remembered his mother's screams.

Before they found out what had happened, she was screaming. She was holding her chest and crying out in pain as it felt like her soul was ripped in two. Her alpha ripped away from her.

It was a miracle it didn't kill her.

He didn't remember his fathers funeral, he didn't remember Maverick grabbing his mother to stop her from throwing herself into his fathers grave.

But he did remember the hospital visits. He remembered his mother laying in a hospital bed, in that sterile room, the scent of chemicals burning his nose.

He remembered sitting there alone, the doctor telling him that his mother should be dead, that she was alive for him.

How many omegas went through this? Bradley began to wonder as he got over. How many Alphas were so loyal to their country that it ended up killing their Omega?

He didn't want to be responsible for that.

For a single day, Bradley got himself under control. He stopped flying like he had no reason to come home, started flying semi-sensibly (but you don't become a navy pilot to fly sensibly).

But it only lasted a day. The next day, he was back to his old shit. Back to trying like he wanted to die, back to flying like he wouldn't have cared if he crashed. Back to flying like nobody would miss him.

***

An unmated Omega, you were given two choices. Remain unmated and unsafe, or do what your friends had done and sign up for that programme.

Looking back, you should have done more research into the programme. You didn't know what you were signing up for, who you were giving your information to. You certainly didn't realise it was the military.

An unknown number contacted you. As any smart Omega would, you tried to look up the number before you answered the phone. But you couldn't trace this one. Looking at your friends, you raised your eyebrows.

"Just answer it," your friend said. "If its someone weird, just hang up."

You nodded along and swiped your finger across the screen. "Hello?" You asked, pressing the phone to your ear.

The woman on the phone gave your name in a questioning tone.

"This is she," you answered, scratching at your knee.

"I'm from the US Navy. We saw your profile and we would like to give you the opportunity to be a Military Omega."

Military Omega. Your frowned deepened as you tried to decipher the meaning of those words. Military Omega. You didn't think Omegas were allowed in the Military.

"What is a Military Omega?"

Your friends gasped at you, eyes going wide. You tried to look at them, to see whether you should hear this woman out or hang up now.

"Its a sweet gig," the woman said, dropping that air of professionalism she had around her already. "Military Omegas are given an Alpha to take care of them, somewhere near the Military base where your Alpha is stationed to live and a weekly allowance. Really, what else could an Omega need?"

A Military Alpha. An Alpha that would leave you alone when he was sent away. You would have somewhere to live provided for you, money sent to you just for being a Military Omega. It did sound like a sweet gig, you thought.

"Can I have some time to think about it?"

"You have until the end of the week." She left a number, one you quickly wrote down, and hung up.

You looked at your friends. They stared back at you, waited for you to say something. "Girls," you started, folding your hands in your lap. "What do we know about Military Omegas."

***

Sitting in an office, a fan above your head, you stared at the man across from you. Definitely an Alpha; you could tell that by his size alone.

He was fucking huge.

If you had less of a leash on your thoughts, your mouth would have been watering. Big Alpha man with big Alpha muscles. To top it all off, he had a pretty face, a moustache that should have been ugly but looked so damn good on him.

He looked like he wanted to kill you.

You stared back at him, waiting for something from him. You had introduced yourself, waited for him to do the same. But he was silent, staring.

You opened your mouth, but he finally said soemthing.

"I'm not scenting you."

You swallowed. A big, sexy, Military Alpha, and he didn't want you. Ouch. "Okay," you said, but, really, you didn't know what else to say. You had made the trip all the way to California to become a Military Omega, and your Military Alpha didn't even want you.

This couldn't get any worse.

You looked up as the door opened and another man walked in. Not an Alpha, you noted by his scent, but definitely Military. "Jesus, Rooster," he said and let out a whistle. "If you don't want her, can I have her?"

"Shut up, Hangman," Bradley said through a growl.

'Hangman' laughed to himself as he strode over to you. Just three steps and he'd walked the length of the table between you. It was nothing at all, but enough that you couldn't reach out and touch the Alpha before you. "He's an old grump, isn't he, sugar?" He asked as he held out his hand.

You cracked a smile, not entirely sure if you should be laughing with him. Taking his hand, you shook it. "I'm Jake. I'm no Alpha, but it won't matter when you're with me," he said and winked.

Suddenly, he was pulled back. Bradley hooked his finger around Jakes colour and pulled him away from you. "Out," he said through a growl. "Get out."

Holding up his hands, Jake walked out of the room. He let the door shut behind him and you released a breath. Maybe the scent of angry Alpha would finally dissipate now that Jake was gone.

But then you heard the lock click.

"Wait!" You cried and climbed out of your seat. Rushing over to the door, you tried to pull it open. Nothing. Locked.

"Bagman!" Bradley roared as he stepped up behind you. You removed your hands from the door handle when he grabbed it and began to pull. But it was a military base. Of course it was Alpha proof.

"Shit," he grunted.

You were conscious of just how close he was to you. He hadn't gotten this close to you... ever. It let you see just how pretty his eyes were, how delicate his brown curls were. Jesus, he was so pretty.

He stared at you, his chest heaving. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent of you. "Fuck," he grunted. "Shit, you smell..."

Good. You smelled so damn good. His eyes seemed to glow brighter as he looked at you. His hands reached out and grabbed you, pulling you close.

You whimpered as you hit his chest. He pressed his nose against your neck, moustache tickling you slightly. But you didn't laugh. Not while he was scenting you.

Stumbling back, Bradley pulled you with him. He sat back in his chair and pulled you on top of him. You whimpered as he continued to scent you.

Tipping your head forward, you scented him back. Holy fuck, he was intoxicating. Your fingers gripped his shoulders as your eyes fell shut. You could have gotten drunk off of his scent, you realised.

When you tried to pull away, Bradley released a growl. So, you continued to scent him. You returned your head to rest against his shoulder and scent him. Pure Alpha, that's what he was. Pure Alpha and you couldn't get enough of him.

His arms wrapped around you, not letting you go. Not that you wanted him to let you go. In that moment, you couldn't imagine anything worse than him letting you. You rubbed your head against his scent gland, trying to cover yourself in his scent. The scent of your Alpha.

The door opened.

Bradley let out a growl and you released one to match. Although yours was the higher pitched growl of an Omega. "Scenting is going well," somebody said. You didn't care who it was, you just wanted them to leave yourself and your Alpha alone.

Swallowing, they backed up and left the room. "Mine," Bradley growled as he nosed at your scent gland. "Mine."

a/n: i can't believe this is the first time i'm writing for my favourite man! i know i'm an f1 girlie but big men just make me ugh! like, i'm not even into COD but my friend and i have been talking about the cod men bc they're so hot 😭

[writingdumpster]

secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob. 

I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo

“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit. 

“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered. 

“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said. 

“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested. 

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman. 

“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback. 

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out. 

“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted. 

“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said. 

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in. 

“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said. 

“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker. 

“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was. 

“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up. 

“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.

“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin. 

“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer. 

“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you. 

“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.” 

“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed. 

“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife. 

“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. 

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked. 

“Y/N,” you told her. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.

“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it. 

“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.” 

“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back. 

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said. 

“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly. 

“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.

“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question. 

“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you. 

“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.  

“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster. 

“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back. 

“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked. 

“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet. 

“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out. 

“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled. 

“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained. 

“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained. 

“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said. 

“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry. 

“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face. 

“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home. 

“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base. 

“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered. 

“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said. 

“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted. 

“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”  

A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available

[warnersister]

Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.

Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here

You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.

“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.

“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.

You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.

“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”

Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”

You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”

And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.

He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.

“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.

You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.

Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”

You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”

Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.

Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.

But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”

And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.

Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”

Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.

It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”

You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.

Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.

“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.

You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.

——————————

Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!

-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!