#dagger squad short fics

[jungle-angel]

Butt of the Joke (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: No one knows why, but the Floyd men apparently are attracted to the full moon

Tagging: @nobody7102 @notyoursbutlewis @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia​ @bradshawsbaby​

You weren’t expecting to come out to Cheyenne Falls so soon, but the minute you knew Joe had to have knee surgery, you and Bob were there with no questions asked. 

The flight into Oklahoma City had been rough, you being almost six months pregnant and needing to pee every ten minutes was unpleasant enough and the four hour long flight feeling more like fourteen hours. 

Yet you were here and with Bob’s family. 

Irene and Marty, his mother and grandmother had been amazing, meeting the two of you at the airport and hurrying to get the two of you back home before the rush hour traffic hit. Joe had been home for three days and unable to do jack shit around the house while Bob’s grandfather had shouldered most of the work along with Bob’s older brothers. 

“You ok Ma?” Bob asked one night. 

“I’m trying to rope your brothers into helping me and they’re being complete shitheads,” Irene chuckled. “Maybe I’ll leave’em to Meemaw and she’ll straighten them out.” 

“No luck Irene,” Marty said as she came in from the porch. “I already used half of my best threats and they still ain’t listening.” 

You and Bob knew it was bad when Marty had used all the threats she could, even ones that would have had the old salts running for cover. “I can help with dinner Momma,” Bob said. “It’s all good.” 

“You mind if I go up and visit with your dad?” you asked. 

“You sure you can get up the stairs?” 

“Bob, I’m pregnant, I’m not made of glass,” you half laughed. 

You waddled your way up the stairs, your baby boy kicking up a storm from within. “Ok, ok,” you said, holding your hand over your belly. “I know you’re uncomfortable too, but that still doesn’t give you the right to jump on my spleen.” 

You made your way to the room at the end of the hall where Joe was propped up in bed, his leg elevated from beneath by one of the pillows and his arms crossed with boredom. “Hey (y/n), whatcha doin up here?” he asked, seeing you poke your head in through the door. 

“I waddled my way up,” you chuckled. “Baby boy wouldn’t stop jumping on my spleen the whole way up.” 

“Yeah Bobby did that to Irene,” Joe replied. “So didn’t Michael, Sean, Liam and the rest of the shitheads.” 

You laughed a little as you sat next to Joe, trying to get comfortable. “You doing ok?” you asked him. 

“Yeah just bored,” he said with a shrug. “I can’t do shit except read, watch movies or use the can and my poor father’s gotta take up most of the work.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” 

“Nah you’re good,” Joe answered. “Your company’s enough. Besides, I meant to go through an old box of photos Irene brought down from the attic the other day. That pot brownie I ate an hour ago should be kicking in to get rid of the pain.” 

“Here, let me get’em,” you said. 

“No need hon, it’s right here,” Joe told you, leaning halfway over his side of the bed before coming back up with the box. 

You and Joe must’ve spent hours and hours going through that box full of photos, some of them absolutely hysterical, especially ones of Bob and his brothers and sisters. 

“Yeah this one was of me and Irene at an Allman Brothers concert back when we were dating,” Joe explained. “That was the night I smoked a whole dimebag of weed and confessed my feelings to her in the portables.” 

“Aw that’s so sweet,” you said. 

“Yeah it was sweet until I started bawling like a little bitch,” Joe laughed. 

You and him kept going through the photos, totally oblivious to the footsteps approaching from down the halls. Bob poked his head in a minute later with a plate full of pot roast and mashed potatoes that Irene had slow cooked all day in the oven. 

“Dad you doin ok in here?” Bob enquired. 

“Oh yeah, yeah, we’re doin pretty good,” Joe said happily. “That your Ma’s pot roast?” 

“The very one,” Bob said, setting it on the bedside table. “What are you guys doing? I heard (y/n) laughing from downstairs.” 

“Oh I was just showing her that cute photo of you as a baby running naked through the backyard sprinkler,” Joe chuckled, holding up the photo. 

You watched as your husband suddenly turned bright red at the photo Joe held up, the one of a tiny, one year old Bob running completely naked through the backyard sprinkler on a sunny summer day. The embarrassed squeak that escaped Bob’s throat threw you once again into a laughing fit. 

“Dad you said you wouldn’t show those!” Bob blurted out. 

“Aaaaw look at you Bobby,” you cooed. “You and your cute little butt running through the grass!! Oh I hope the baby looks just like you.” 

Bob playfully gave his father a few open handed whacks on the shoulders and one on the back of the head, the older Floyd turning red in the face from how hard he was laughing. 

“You swore you weren’t gonna show those you son of a bitch!” Bob exclaimed, shouting and laughing all at once.

“Hey! Your grandmother took those photos not me.” 

Bob and Joe bickered back and forth while you laughed and listened, the baby boy once again kicking in your belly as you thought about how much your son was going to look like your husband. 

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

Days like this were becoming more routine as they passed by, you laying on your back in the doctor’s office, completely numb to the coldness of the gel on your belly as she showed you the images of your unborn son and Bob holding your hand. 

“Baby boy’s in excellent shape,” she commented. “Heart’s beating perfectly, his little legs and arms are moving without any issue......oh wait a second....” 

You and Bob suddenly looked up at the screen, suddenly struck with a nervousness that threatened to petrify the both of you. “What?” you asked. “What is it?” 

“I’ve never seen them do that before.” 

You and Bob took a closer look when you saw it for yourselves. The two of you started laughing hysterically when you were hit with the sudden realization of what it was. 

“Is he....?” 

“Oh my God,” Bob laughed. “The little devil’s mooning us.” 

The two of you could hardly control your laughter. What was it with the Floyd men and showing their asses to the world? One of life’s great mysteries.....that was what it was.

“I’m gonna be hanging this over his head when he brings his first girlfriend home,” Bob laughed. 

“You hear that little man?” you said, poking your belly a little. “Daddy and I have dirt on you already.” 

You felt the baby kicking inside you once again. You and Bob couldn’t wait for that moment when you’d finally get to embarrass him in your own right, even if it was eighteen years down the road. 

[missathlete31]

Rumors

Natasha Trace is used to people making assumptions about her. She's a woman in a male-dominated industry. Beyond that she is an elite pilot in a male-dominated industry and judgment is just a part of her life. She's managed it well, all things considering, and learned to surround herself with people who respect her for her talents and intelligence rather than demean her for her sex. Of course Bagman is always good for a disparaging comment or two, but Phoenix has caught him defending her to men who dare to question her abilities when he thinks she is out of earshot, so she knows where his true feelings lie.

Ignoring all the nasty assumptions made about her: sleeping with superiors, hired for optics, among other things, there are some rumors that are just plain funny. Take for example, her personal life. Fighter pilots are notorious for Daddy issues and a lack of settling down (i.e the Roosters and Mavericks of the world). Phoenix herself has never really caught the 'marriage and babies' bug that most other women her age experience, and she's fine with that. Setting down isn't something she particularly avoids, just something that doesn't fit in her life at the moment. It isn't to say it never will though.

There are rumors she is a lesbian, which while are untrue, she doesn't necessary consider insulting. Finding love with a woman, man or any other sexual orientation or preference isn't something that someone should ever be judged for and Phoenix herself would never criticize anyone else's penchants. No, what she finds eye rolling is that a strong woman must be lesbian. That because she flies planes, and wears bulky helmets that mess up her hair, that because she can play football in the sand and not care if she is sweaty or smelly she has to "bat for a certain team." It's silly, archaic and most importantly wrong. Natasha's hobbies or abilities don't dictate her love life and when she finds love, with whomever she does find it with, she looks forward to those rumors finally settling.

But then she will always have her family gossip.

Despite what some might think, Natasha doesn't have any unresolved 'Daddy Issues'. Her father Matthew is a normal dad. Stern in his desire to raise children that worked to do good and be respectful, but also kind in his teachings and loving in his affections. When Nat had shared she wanted to be a pilot, Matthew encouraged it wholeheartedly and he and Phoenix's mother Rosa offered all the support they could to help their daughter reach her dream. Every milestone or commendation, Natasha's parents were and still are always in attendance, both smiling brightly at not just the achievements of their child, but her happiness too.

Rumors say her father is Hispanic (his family was from England actually, where as Nat's mother is Mexican). They say he works on cars or carpentry, or something with his hands. They say he's a man's man, someone who would take a daughter and push her into boy things, but it's the furthest from the truth. Matthew is a quiet man, preferring a book or listening to soft rock music while his wife chatters endlessly in the kitchen. He teaches at a high school in California; English because that was the only opening (though his passion was always history), and he even advises a few of the clubs on campus. He knows nothing about planes, certainly nothing about F-18s or any other fighter jets, and he looked just as confused about Natasha's sudden desire to fly as Nat's mother did. But, like any good parent would, he rolled with. He bought her books about flying when she asked. He parked them close to the airport one day when she talked about watching take offs and landings, and he hugged her the hardest on the day she was accepted into the Naval Academy.

As the years passed, Natasha's father has picked up a few things about his daughter's job. He's learned a few terms, makes sure to always know where she is based out of or what carrier she is on, and he's very particular about knowing the name of the WSO assigned to her. Matthew Trace might not be what the rumors say he is, he can't rebuild a car from scratch or fix a broken pipe (he usually ends up with a concussion from hitting his head against the sink counter too many times) but he is a great father. And though he didn't push her into flying, he and Natasha's mother always made sure their daughter knew that they were with her in the skies; ready to watch her triumphs and catch her just in case she falls.

Beyond the rumors of her father, there is also this belief that Natasha should have an infinite amount of older brothers. She is expected to have been a tom boy growing up, following on little legs after brothers who were taller, faster, and stronger; all of them eventually steering her into sports and planes. The first time Nat and Bob shared their family history, the WSO looked at her funny when she shared about Anna.

"Only one sister?" Bob questioned, a furrow gracing his face.

"Yup" Phoenix nodded, "one older sister, works for an insurance company in Sacramento."

The man turned back to his drink, "huh" he mused.

"What?" Nat couldn't help feeling on the wrong foot. She didn't think Bob was judging her but she couldn't help the sinking feeling that settled in her stomach from his clear perplexity, "what is it?"

"I don't know" he shrugged before meeting her gaze, "I always assumed you had a bunch of older brothers."

He wasn't the only one. The first time Rooster met her family he looked actively surprised when a gaggle of men didn't come bursting from the house. She tried to tell him many times she only had a sister but Bradley still seemed to think she had somehow misled him, expecting Nat to be the influence of someone else. She had been angry for a moment, annoyed at how many people felt she couldn't just love to fly on her own accord and not pushed by outside force.

Soon enough she learned to embrace it, along with all the other stereotypes and conjecture labeled to her.

When she arrives to a fellow pilots wedding in a tight dress and full makeup and hair, stunning the room silent and earning surprised glances from every man and woman, Natasha keeps her head high and walks over to the other Daggers, remembering the hours she spent as a teen watching make-up tutorials because even 'Tom-Boys' like to look pretty.

When she lands a particularly rough tackle in Dogfight football and Yale grumbles about how her older brothers must be so proud; Phoenix laughs as she thinks of the afternoons with Anna, the two of them playing dress up and dolls and having all the fun in the world.

When she changes Halo's tire for her one night and the other woman pouts that she wishes her father taught her this lesson, Nat smiles good-naturally and remembers how her father had waited 2 hours for AAA one time because he attempted to change a tire and lost the lug nuts in the brush on the side of the road.

When she catches Payback reading one of the books in her father's curriculum on the beach one day, she doesn't even hesitate to bring up some of Matthew Trace's discussion points. Reuben chats with her, clearly impressed, and assumes that when she explains how her house is filled with books, it must be from Nat's mother. She doesn't bother correcting him.

And when her family arrives for the Dagger BBQ hosted by Penny and Mav after they all survive the mission, Natasha smirks at the surprised faces of her teammates when they take in her glasses wearing, sweater-covered father, her loud and boisterous mother and her singular female sibling. The rumor mill clearly having never been so wrong.

But that's life isn't it, especially for someone like Natasha Trace. Assumptions are always going to be made and Phoenix is always going to love to prove them wrong.

[allbark-no-bite]

don’t write checks you can’t cash.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 3.6k)

summary: jake seresin is under your skin. or maybe you’re under his. either way you’re going to eat each other alive. jake isn’t about to take the fall

warnings: mentioned age gap, heavy sexual tension (the smut is coming i promise)

author’s note: back on my topgun bullshit bitches (respectfully). i’m not usually one for multi part fics but i actually wrote something with plot for once so please just bear with me. loosely inspired by Zach Bryan’s ‘nineball’. please note this fic title is subject to change bc i hate it

(you can read part 2 here!)

————————————————————————

You don't believe in love at first sight. You think the whole concept is some foolish idea that people who have already fallen in love have the liberty of saying they believe in. Then people who have been through failed relationship after failed relationship are convinced that they're never going to fall in love because it just doesn't happen. The whole idea pretty much just sets the rest of the population up for failure from the start.

Even the concept of finding the right person one day and growing to love them is hard for you to grasp. Because how can you love someone that much? How do you know you love them enough?There are some days that you don't enjoy the presence of even your closest friends for very long, friends who you would do anything for. Even family, you only tolerated so much.

Your high school boyfriend hated that about you, the fact that you realistically needed so little of him—or anyone for that matter. You have always been violently independent, able to provide what you require, and therefore having to maintain a simplistic relationship became nothing but a monotonous task. Even most of your closest friendships faded with time.

Eventually, you prosed the question: what can someone else give me that I cannot give myself?

The answer was companionship. Because when you strip away everything from a person and all they have left to offer you is themself, you have to be willing to choose them. And sometimes that's not the most appealing quality.

Something did happen, the first time you made eye contact with Lt. Jake Seresin, but it was far from love. It was something terrible in your chest, like an aching. Like you knew in your gut that he was going to change your life. Good or bad, you didn't know, but it was certain to happen.

You don't even believe that you two were destined to meet — you just happened to, and in that moment, the damage was done, it was your fate to ruin each other.

——

You like the way he says your name. You like that he says your name on purpose, like he is intentionally seeking out reasons to say it. It's not as harsh sounding coming from his mouth.

"You from around here, [L/n]?"

You're wiping down the glass hatch of your F/A-18 when he approaches you from behind. You swivel your head to catch sight of him behind your back but he's already making a wide circle around you, his chin tipping up then down as he inspects your plane from behind his tinted aviators.

As you watch him scrutinize your aircraft, you regard him with a certain level of apprehension. Jake Seresin was nothing short of gorgeous. He was six feet of bronze skin and lean muscle, withbright green eyes, and a movie star smile. Not to mention the southern accent that had girls drooling over him.

"Austin," you correct him. "Austin, Texas."

You'd been transferred over to Miramar a little over a month ago, becoming the newest addition to the Dagger squad. California was a nice change of scenery, and everyone you had met so far had welcomed you with open arms. That is, everyone but Lt. Seresin— Hangman as they called him. You were still trying to find your footing with him.

You genuinely don't know what his problem is with you. The guy had hardly even given you a glance since the moment you'd arrived. Your first guess would have been that he was one of those dickheads who didn't like women working in the field, but his relationship with Phoenix disproved that theory.

Your answer seems to warrant his attention, and he looks up. His expression twitches at the correction but he doesn't say anything in response. For the first time since you arrived at Miramar, still, unsmiling green eyes catch yours from across the aircraft.

You hold his gaze. After a moment, your stomach twists in an unsettling way, like even it doesn't know what to do with itself. Your first instinct is to look away. Your brain is telling you that if you do, you can avoid any sort of confrontation that may happen as a result. But it's like you can't.

This is the first time he's looked at you, and now you don't dare to look away.

Even from behind the tint of his perfectly polished aviators, you can make out the distinct color of his green eyes. They're so distracting that you have to remind yourself to breathe.

After what feels like eons of uncomfortable staring, he breaks your gaze —surely it couldn't have been longer than a few seconds. Flustered, you glance around to see if anyone else has picked up on the affair. Fortunately, or unfortunately, you're not quite sure which, it's nearing 6pm and the base is on the better side of empty. It's a Friday evening and everyone is eager to head out for the weekend.

Someone clears their throat. Hangman is still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets like he doesn't have anywhere better to be. You want to say something but your gut is telling you that there's some sort of game going on here and you're not sure of the rules.

Finally, he faintly nods his head, as if to excuse himself, and turns to walk away. You watch his retreating back and relax a little, breathing a bit easier.

As you're turning back to your plane, relieved that the interaction is over, you hear him call back over his shoulder.

“The team is heading to the Hard Deck at nine. Don't be late."

And then he's gone, disappeared between one of the hangars.

——

For nine thirty on a Friday evening, the bar isn't nearly as busy as you'd expected it to be. You don't have to fight for a parking spot out front and there's not even a line at the bar. Other than a rowdy looking gaggle accumulating at the pool table, the atmosphere is pretty laid back. Looking around as you walk further in, there is a handful of people in civilians, but the majority of the crowd is composed of off duty aviators in their summer khakis.

You're about to head over to the bar top, where you were sure you had spotted Captain Mitchell, when someone shouts your name.

"Hawk!"

Your head swivels at the sound of your callsign, and you catch sight of Rooster beckoning to you over at the pool table. Immediately you recognize the familiar faces of the Dagger squad around him. You acknowledge him with a smile and head over to join them.

“And here we thought you were going to be a no-show," the brunette pilot chirps, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as soon as you're close enough. You lean into his embrace while touching his chest with a friendly pat of your hand. Bradley is by no means close to drunk but most definitely more than a little buzzed if you're going off of the smell of beer and lime on his breath and the occasional involuntary twitch of his mustache.

"I thought about it, but I can't keep letting you guys have all the fun," you laugh, holding out your other arm so that you can greet Natasha with a hug as Rooster releases you.

After hugging you, she presses a sweating bottle of beer into your hand. "Coyote bought everyone a round so I figured I'd save you one before the boys wiped them out. Sorry if it's a bit warm, you did show up fashionably late."

You playfully roll your eyes at her, taking the beer anyhow. "Thanks, Phe."

Payback places a large palm on the top of your head, diverting your attention towards him as he returns from the bar. "Don't let her fool you, we're just getting started over here. Rooster isn't even drunk enough to get on the piano yet."

Laughing, you glance over at the brunette aviator. "Now that I've been waiting to see. I hear you're quite the show, Bradshaw."

Since you transferred over to Miramar, you had been hounded nonstop to go out drinking with the team for weeks, and Rooster's infamous performance had been one of their key selling points. That and the fact that the owner, Penny, often gave them free drinks. Apparently she had a thing for Captain Mitchell.

Rooster grins, leaning against the pool stick in his hand as he waits for Fanboy to take his shot. "Let me get a couple more beers deep and I promise you won't be disappointed."

As you go about making your rounds to greet everyone else, you can't help but notice that there's someone missing. After you take a seat beside Bob to watch Rooster and Fanboy play, you glance around the bar a few times, convinced that you've somehow overlooked him despite the fact that the place isn't busy enough for that.

An almost disappointed feeling pulls at you despite how ridiculous the realization makes you feel.

After spending the better part of an half hour trying to push the feeling away, you finally spot a familiar head of blonde hair over at the dartboard. He's by himself, about three darts in and half a bottle of beer down. So much for the personal invitation, you think.

You watch as he throws a dart, practically without so much as aiming whilst contemplating whether or not you even have it in you to muster up the courage to face those green eyes again.

Without giving yourself the chance to back down, you swallow back the rest of your now warm beer and head over.

He tosses another dart just as you reach him, and it finds itself dead center with the previous three.

"With a hand like that, you should be kicking Rooster's ass over there in pool," you say as you come to a stop behind him.

Walking away from the dartboard, Jake turns to grab his bottle of beer from the table beside you.

"I'm not much of a betting man," he huffs, leaning back against the table. The muscles of his biceps bugle distractingly against the sleeves of his uniform.

You look back over your shoulder, watching from a distance as Fanboy's cue clips the eight ball and sends it ricocheting off the sidewall. He groans, and Rooster whoops triumphantly from behind him.

"It wouldn't be much of a bet. Even with his winning streak, I think you'd give him a run for his money."

Hangman takes a sip from his bottle, mouth lingering on the rim before he sets it back down and crosses his arms. "Rooster's all luck and no skill. The table's got a lean."

You raise your eyebrows at the confession, half laughing at his lax confidence. "Oh? And you would know this how?"

"C'mon, son. Fuckin' hit it in."

Body tense, his arm quivers ever so slightly and the pool stick bobs shakily in his hand. He closes his eyes and takes a breath in.

"I haven't got all day, kid."

He breathes out and breathes back in. The smell of cigar smoke and cheap beer swims in his head.

"What're you doin'?! Quit wastin' time."

He exhales, opens his eyes, and hits the pool stick forward. The white cue ball shoots out to the left, bounces against the eight ball, and sends it hurdling towards the side pocket. At the very last moment, it veers off to the left and falls into  the back corner pocket instead.

The man standing on the other side of the table curses, his pool stick dropping to the ground, but Jake pays little mind to him. He straightens, looking around eagerly for the only set of eyes that matter. The grin falls from his face when he realizes the old man isn't even watching, too busy counting out his prize money and yanking out a ten to hand to the bartender.

Jake looks up at the clock on the wall over his shoulder.

12:57 am

"Dad, I wanna go home."

"Not yet, son. I've already got fifty put down on another round."

"Want me to show you?"

His offer makes you pause, and you can't help but cock your head a bit as you try to weigh out just where this is heading. For weeks he has acted as though you barely even existed and now you're engaged in the longest conversion the two of you have had since your arrival.

Jake finishes his drink and sets the bottle down whilst walking over to you. "Final offer. Take it or leave it."

You laugh a little before stepping back so that he can make his way to the pool table. "Lead the way then." But before you can make it too far, his palm finds the flat of your back, pressing you forward so that you're in front of him. You're glad he can't see you because your face flashes hot at the unexpected contact.

"I'm not the one playing, kid. I'm just going to show you the ropes."

"Oh, I didn't-"

Any objections you have about the situation are ignored as he pushes you firmly in the direction of the pool table and asks Payback for his cue. "Look alive, Bradshaw. Hawk is about to show you how this thing is done."

Straightening his wide shoulders, Bradley grins, smug and easy as you and Hangman approach the opposite side of the table. "And here I thought you were here to reclaim your throne now that I'm intoxicated."

Jake grins back. "You don't need to be drunk for me to do that."

Bradley's mustache twitches, but he's still smiling. "Sure."

Jake turns back to you, placing the pool stick in your hand. You can't help but think that his expression is all too confident for someone who has never even seen you play pool.

"Nervous?" he asks as you take the stick from him.

"Should I be?" you ask back, turning your head to watch as Rooster takes the liberty of breaking the rack.

He shakes his head, his green eyes glowing with a warmth that you've yet to see from him. "Not as long as you don't totally suck."

Seeing that it's your turn, you brush past him to stand at the table. "I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

Thankfully you've played your fair share of pool and so you're able to hold your own for most of the game. Jake remains criminally silent as you play, arms once again crossed as he leans against a nearby stool, but you can feel his gaze burning into your back the entire time. It isn't until the end of the game and you've missed the same ball multiple times that he steps in.

"Shift left," he directs you. When you glance over at him, he nods his head as if to insinuate where you should move but doesn't move from where he's planted himself since the beginning of the game.

Hesitantly, you shuffle over a half step and take the shot. The ball comes closer than you have been but still hits the sidewall just short of the pocket. You huff in frustration, and Rooster steps forward to take his turn, sinking his second to last ball in the same pocket.

"I hope you're ready to buy the next round, Seresin. Looks like Hawk is losing her nerve," Bradley goads, unable to keep himself from boasting a little at your expense. When it comes to Hangman, he can't resist the chance to taunt him.

You roll your eyes at his comment, not bothered so much by it as compared to the fact that you're losing. When it's your turn again, you line up the ball and lean down to assume your position when Jake stops you.

All the sudden he's right beside you, palm pressing into your hip to scoot you to the side. "Move over." When you look at him like he's crazy, he huffs. "C'mon, do you want my help or not?"

It isn't so much of a question as it is a statement and the press of his hand against your side doesn't leave you much of an option and so you shuffle over to the far right side of the pool table.

Before you can even comprehend what's going on, he's leant over you, his impossibly tall frame pressed to your back so that he can reach around you and guide your hands. One wraps around your hand on the stick and the other cups your opposite elbow.

It takes everything in you not to jerk away, overwhelmed by his sudden proximity. Instead you try to focus on controlling your hammering heart and pray he can't tell how clammy your palms suddenly are.

"Hey, that's not allowed," Rooster complains. "Is that allowed?"

Coyote shrugs. "It's not not allowed."

Distracted by their bickering, his voice in your ear nearly makes you jump. "Hit the cue ball. Hard."

The lean press of his body is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he's done a god awful job of lining up the shot. There's not one alternate reality where you make this shot.

"You can't be serious."

He's so close that you feel him smile beside your ear. "Dead."

"Any day now," Rooster prompts, as if you aren't aware that Jake Seresin has been pressed against you for an uncomfortably long amount of time. And if Hangman has noticed the fact that your heart is fluttering erratically inside your chest or that your skin is flushed hot to the touch, he doesn't let on. 

"I'm waiting," he reminds you, his voice placid in your ear.

Against your better judgement, you take the shot.

The white cue ball hurtles into the black eight ball with a hard clack and sends it flying across the table. It smashes against the sidewall, exactly as you had expected it to, and you release a breath of defeat. And then something unexpected happens. The ball slows, but instead of bouncing to a stop, it continues to roll left across the table. You all watch as it rolls directly into back corner pocket of the table.

"Well I'll be damned," Payback mutters aloud.

"Hell yeah, [L/n]!" Phoenix shouts, her loud and robust voice ringing out across the bar. "Shots are on Bradshaw!"

"Thanks buddy," Coyote laughs, teasingly grabbing the back of the brunette aviator's shoulders as he heads off for the bar.

Bradley waves them off, looking a bit miffed but still good naturedly accepting his defeat.

"How about it? You're a cold blooded killer."

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over your head, the sound of Hangman's voice coming from behind you jerks you back to reality. You haven't even noticed that he'd stepped away. Something inside you twinges at the loss of his body pressed against yours.

You turn around to face him, your brain still trying to comprehend what just happened.

"How'd you do that?" you ask incredulously, your tone almost accusing. A deeper part of you wants to ask 'why did you do that' but the smile on his face stops you.

His top row of pearly white teeth that you glimpse is pristine, however brief, before his pink lips come back together in a more subdued smile. It's an expression that is so very genuine and carefree that it sends a spark straight through to your heart. You've never seen him actually smile before, and especially not at you.

"You're smiling," you accuse before you can stop the words from coming out of your mouth, half giddy at the discovery yourself.

Jake looks slightly away, turning his head briefly in order to suppress his smile before looking back to you. “Yeah? So?” His green eyes are twinkling as he says it, like he knows he’s been caught.

You jab the short end of the pool stick into the center of his chest, but he’s quick to grab it before it can find home.

“Up until yesterday, you could barely stand to even look at me,” you say.

He bites the inside of his cheek. “That’s not true.”

“So you’re saying that I’m seeing things.” You try to tug back on the pool stick but Hangman doesn’t release it.

“I’m saying you shouldn’t be seeing things.”

With that, a larger portion of the previous smile is gone from his face, a more sober look replacing it.

Just like that the spark fades. Even though you want to shut down, turn your back to his face and just walk away. You force yourself to keep talking, holding your voice steady. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

Inside you know exactly what he means.

His eyes flicker up over your shoulder but the Dagger squad has already moved on to crowd around Rooster at the piano.

You clamp your jaw together as he releases the pool cue and crosses his arms in front of his chest. It makes him look more relaxed than he is.

"Look, whatever this is—whatever you think I am, I'm not." He says this with the realistic conviction of someone who knows that even if it is, you can't. He says it like he’s trying to convince himself.

You’re not quite sure how old he is—barely thirty if you had to guess— but he’s older. Too old. Not to mention fraternization is deeply frowned upon.

"I know," you answer firmly. Because you do. Because even if it isn't, you want it, whatever it is.

He stares down at you with those green eyes, his pupils pinpoint sharp. After a moment he heaves a sigh and releases it, nodding his head. “So we’re in agreement?”

“Yeah,” you answer. “We’re in agreement.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

[missmarveledsblog]

bob floyd fic plz loving your fics anything really with some spice 🥺💞

Risky business ( Robert " bob" Floyd x Reader) 18+

summary : home doesn't feel like home so y/n takes a risk moving to san diego to the man she always felt was her home her best friend robert floyd , she thinks he friend zoned her , he thinks if he tell her about his feeling for her he'll lose it til one night he takes a risk and hope its a good one .

warnings : swearing , very fluffy like super fluffy , mutual pinning , idiot in love , bestfriends to lovers , dagger squad being the best smutty fun , oral ( female r), fingering , p in v ( unprotected don't be silly wrap that willy ) .

Risks are scary, big or small, and can be terrifying when you don’t know the outcome. It's scary when you do but most risks are usually the best decisions in a person's life. Coming from Montana to San Diego because your best friend is permanently stationed is a big risk , not telling said friend and making sure no else did, big risk. Yet standing in some bar called hard deck hoping they would show up like they most nights. what maybe helped already knowing with the help of a certain female pilot promised they would be .  talking away with the pretty kind eyed bartender as patron began to fill the space with a blink of an eye it was sea of people , each time she would hear the door open her eyes would dart in the direction in hopes to see the WSO  she hadn’t seen in a year or more . texting and calls were main communications and social media which is how she began sort of friends with natasha trace bantering or in bobs word torturing him on a post or meme which became a regular and a mutual online friendship was formed .  bob always gonna be her best friend two growing up together playing on her ranch , he even worked there summers with her so they could spend time together.  Montana suddenly didn’t feel like home anymore it missed one major thing and that was robert floyd so she packed her things and now here she stood in a bar trying to see through the sea of people . a polite smile and shake of her head at the men coming her way offering one liner and drinks . she sipped her beer and continue as nat promised she would get the weapons systems operator to the hard deck even if she had to drag him herself . 

“ well well i didn’t know it was my lucky night” a voice called as she turned to see a blonde and along with a few others eyes locked on her and her glance short because she saw him standing there  almost flying off the stood and running past the cocky blonde. 

“ BOBBY” She yelled almost knocking the poor man to the ground as his mind was catching up and making sense to what was happening. 

“ guess it’s not a lucky as you thought bagman” . 

“ y/n shit what you doing here” he lifted her up and spun her around . 

“ to see ya stupid why else “ she giggled as he put her down . 

“ told you i’d get him here also nice to finally meet you” a voice called as she turned seeing the brunette that help and share memes to torment bob. 

“ nat wow nice to meet ya too “ she turned hugging the woman . 

“ could we meet you too… hi names bradley “  he smiled holding his hand out and they began pushing each other out of the way telling her their names and call sign. 

“ erm let sit over here” bob pulled her to his side and guiding her to the usual space as hangman and rooste more or less yelling about their skills in pool and darts .  he didn’t know what was going on or it was some hallucination , did they crash and this was some coma dream or his own form of heaven . 

“ y/n let me get you a drink to welcome to the hard deck “ of course jake was already putting the charm on . 

“ oh thank you “ she smiled softly as she told him her order before her attention was back on bob .  “ i was so scared you weren’t gonna show up but then again i knew nat wouldn’t have let the surprise go to waste” she giggled as they guy simultaneously sighed dreamily. 

“ That's why you kept trying to get me to leave earlier. I should have known” he chuckled . 

“I didn’t wanna leave this hotty at the bar too long on her own “ nat winked . 

“ you flatter me really , hell i’d say the guys have a hard time flying with you around huh?”. 

“ more her mouth than anything…. So what brings you to fighter town pretty girl ?” rooster asked, hand on his chin  and big eyes in her direction . 

“ well home was boring  without bobby around ain’t felt much like home so I kinda packed up my car and decided  hell why not” she shrugged. 

“ wait your staying like staying staying”bobs eyes widening and excited smile on his face shit why was so cute , handsome and fuck why couldn’t she stop feeling like this for her best friend.  

“ well she’s been planning the last few months and honestly i’m proud of myself for keeping it a secret so long” nat smirked. 

“ and nat helped a lot she viewing places for me which  i will make sure to send  something …food wise since you won’t let me pay you anyway “ she rolled her eyes . 

“Honestly better than money or whatever sweetpea’s cooking is to die for “ bob almost moaned  at the thought of tasting her food again one of the things he missed being home. 

“ sweetpea?” 

“ nickname from when i was kid  my mama was really into flowers and well one of it meanings is loyal  when i got into trouble a lot for picking up for bobby  she called me sweet pea also because they were grown for beauty too but i think more the loyal part “ she rolled her eyes.

“ your beer darling” jake returned flashing  a million dollar smile her way . 

“ thanks cowboy , so this is famous hard deck i’ve been hearing all about hell  penny is a peach  , where else is fun around here?” she asked looking around mainly her eyes where on bob , they always were even as kids she thought he was the prettiest boy  , cutest smile and innocent eyes but she say other side when they got dark when he would get pissed off or when he got drunk how it would be a goofy grin . She was one who saw most sides of robert floyd , reading him like a book or so she thought. 

Ever since he was little boy the only girl to fully make robert floyd heart beat fast and his stomach to flutter and a warmth fill through his body was y/n , his sweet pea who go out of her way to take care of those she loved and put a person in their place of needed to be  .  since they were kids she didn’t take to kindly to other kids teasing him or even adults as they got older .  Her mother was right she was loyal to a fault often trying to see the best in people and never returning it back .  Hated the guys she dated ones that didn’t appreciate the best woman on gods green earth .  then he would pick up the pieces of what was left behind unknowingly making things worse because they got that chance because she thought he saw her as sister , constantly made sure to let slip in the fact they were best friends so she dated idiots she thought would distract her from her decent  in the depths of the of friend zone. Now she was happy being single maybe she needed time to get over those feelings  first before jumping into a mistake.  She was happy now being with the one man she couldn’t have it should of stung but a life with him in it even as her best friend was what she was willing to settle on. She got along with the dagger squad they were good people , fun and very welcoming . rooster and hangman to offering to teach her to play darts which made bobs face light up , the coy act as she stood unsurely throw the first one missing reeling them in til she turned to bob not even paying attention to the way their jaws drop when she hit the bullseye while taking about her day of unpacking. 

“ would ya look at that “ she winked before heading to get another drink . 

“ look like  your game isn’t working tonight boys “ nat snorted 

“ i’ve a better shot then hangman “ 

“ you wish chicken boy “ 

“I don’t think either of you two  have a chance” payback announced as he shot the WSO  a quick glance . being the married man and obsessed with one woman in his life he could spot something the others didn’t. Her eyes didn’t devour them  any of them  , she only looked to answer or tell them a story but other than that her full attention was on bob and bob alone . heart in those eyes   and it was returned what he didn’t know was there wasn’t more to it , how two people undeniably in love and yet just friends maybe he would find out but for now he observed see how long it took the other  but only  the knowing look on phoenix face  he wasn’t the only one that spotted it , the rest would need to get  over the egos first . 

After week one fanboy spotted it followed by javy at week three   but rooster and hangman were two busy in a silent competition it didn't hit them til six months of y/n being around.  The two men saying they totally spotted it way be for then but they couldn’t hide when it clicked now they were waiting for those two to see it , would their be harm in helping  a gentle nudge in the right direction so to speak. Another new favorite in the shift of the routine was eating dinner in y/n which the name was a distant memory as sweetpea continued  to live on in san diego , even pete mitchell addressed her as such .   they decided maybe it was best to skip one  dinner night even though the idea of it had some of them pouting like spoiled children . 

“ you better not mess it up “ was all the message from hangman and rooster read  as he stood on the porch ready to knock not knowing what his friends where on about .  then when the door opened  the thought went straight out of his head as she standing head tilt in pair of cotton shorts and tank , brows furrow. 

“ i thought the squad was busy?” god her voice something as simple as her voice had him in a puddle . sometimes he would get her to talk about her hobbies , things she loved just to hear her ramble excitedly . 

“I .. not all the squad i guess , i’ll call for pizza and you pick out the movie” he chuckled letting himself in . 

“ beers in the fridge or ginger ale” she called and yet he couldn’t help it watching her walking away how it made the blood rush sound and his mouth run dry .  he felt the buzz of his phone to see the text in the group chat.  

Phoenix : please make a move or i’ve suffered the whining of bradshaw and seresin for nothing.

Baby on board : what you mean ?

Bagman : either get the girl or i will 

Rooster: i’ll get her before bagman  

“ bobby? “ she called as he pocketed the phone a gulp as he looked up  nervous was it that obvious , it was clearly it was plain as day for his friends to spot it and  now he was scared on her catching on what if he scared her away .. what if he lost his best friend because he couldn’t contain the feelings . maybe it was better tell her , face the rejection and get over it so he could get on with his life . 

“ yeah .. yep coming sweetpea “ he walked probably slowest he’s ever walk in hope of the short distance he could sort himself out . that would of been blown away as she sat looking up his eyes straining to stay on her face and not the plush of her thigh as she sat on the sofa feet tucked underneath her legs and big bright smile on her face. 

“ ya coming or what” she snorted looking to the tv eyes scanning through the potential choices . when he finally took his seat as far away as he could get without being in a different room . 

“  Do I smell?” she arched her brows to which he shook his head so fast she thought his glasses would fall off . “  well come over here” she patted the seat beside her .  

“ you wanna drink like i said beer if you wanna stay over or ginger ale” she asked getting up . 

“ you hate ginger ale why you always get it  “ 

“Cause  you don’t” she easily said . “ same way i get those nuts ya like or the chips which honestly  i’m starting to think something wrong with ya taste buds” she snorted heading off to the kitchen .  

“ given the chance i’d taste you “ he mumbled .

“What was that “ she carried in the beers  .

“ i said nothing wrong with my taste thank you” he coughed bringing the bottle to his lips least he couldn’t have slip ups if it was occupied right. 

“ you ok “ she asked concern on his face as he nodded.  “ ya sure like a bag of cats since you got in here “ . 

“ just thinking of something that well is a big risk and  i don’t know what to do , it’s classified” he sighed. 

“ take it i mean  risks are scary sure but if it something you love or something in your life that needs changing  , i’d say go for it once it not life on the line that that risk , i moved out her away from everything i knew and i think it was best decision i made ” she smiled  softly and yet it did comfort him but same time the fear was winning . “ think on what i said decided then but for now lets watch this movie” she giggled hitting play and the lights . of course she would pick the movie he said he loved , she always done little or big things like this having his favorites for when he was over , packing extra things when they were out like sun cream and aloe vera when he did burn .  wipes for his glasses .  little things that didn’t feel that little they meant a lot to him. He kept thinking it over the movie long forgotten as she cuddle into his side nothing new but still he was trying to think , trying to decide  take the risk or not. 

“ fuck this “ he finally said only he didn’t mean to say it so loud making her startle and sit up right . 

“ What's going on? What's got all worked up “ she ask pausing the moving .  “ I know you said classified what is it” . 

“   it’s you “ his head fell back eyes closed fuck it may aswell do it cause if he didn’t he was going to be in a padded room . 

“ me? What i do?” he could hear it the hurt in her voice , he knew her too well knew how her mind worked and he knew she was worried she done something wrong. 

“ nothing wrong i mean it’s more me than anything  before i could do i think being deployed and stationed places helped  i was able to hide it better  , now others see it too and then your gonna see it  , but i’m taking your advice and it feel life risking but shit i need to tell you i’ve been in love with you since we met shit i don’t think theres a time i haven’t been  and i understand if this changes things between us i mean if you want me to walk out that door  i will as much as it kills me but i can’t pretend i’m not anymore and no i’m gonna loose my best friend and  jake and bradley are gonna hate they miss the food for me fucking everything up but i love you  , in love with you “ he could lie and say that the beating of his heart help since he couldn’t hear anything  yet her mouth fell open and her eyes wide , she was frozen to the spot and now he wanted to run literally run his ass out that door and keep running maybe start a life somewhere new .. like the moon . “ please say something… anything” he was more quiet   , vulnerable and small in his voice. 

“ you fucker …. Asshole ..” that was not the words he was expecting to hear. “ your telling me you felt the same all this fucking time… .asshole what was the whole thing of constantly added  the fact we’re bestfriends in any conversation you shit i thought  i was so deep in the friendzone the titanic would of been found before anyone found me down there” she quipped . 

“ i more said that to myself than you “ he winced 

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner “ she asked . 

“ i was afraid i’d lose you why didn’t you tell me”. 

“ because you dick i thought you friendzoned me “ she huffed and yet the smile she was fighting it was , winning  as her lips twitched up . 

“ so we both love like in love with each other “ he asked shyly . 

“ i guess we are” she nodded. 

“ so i can kiss you”. 

“ i’d be pissed if you didn’t” she turned only for his hands on her cheeks and lips crashing against her. It was soft at first , almost  testing the waters   , crossing new bound and borders and yet it felt like it was most right thing to do , it was like the whole cliche puzzles pieces souls connecting goodness wrapped in a bow that would make the hallmark channel proud . til the kiss got hungry , heat , sensual .  nip to her bottom lip granting the entrance , tongues dancing along side each. Pulling her closer , needing her closer lifting her to his lap , where she always should of been his hand on her hip  , the other tangled in her hair . her own at the nape of his neck the soft tug pulling him for her lips as she kissed  down his jaw .  wet open mouth kissing along his neck setting his skin a blaze  the room suddenly feeling like a sauna as she nips and lick the skin .  his now free hand  , fingers under her chin pulling her face to his , his eyes darkened  that made her gulp and her thighs willing to clench under the almost burning gaze . 

“ baby girl i need  know you want this “ he voice few octaves lower  if he wasn’t holding her by her chin her mouth would of fell open . 

“ i want this i want you please” she whine her eyes full of needed , lust blown pupils  and kiss bitten lips made his cock throb straining against his pants  . the gasp from her lips when she felt it pressed again her , her panties soaking , clothes feeling tight  as she ground her hips  down showing him how much she wanted him , needing him .  the delicious friction his hand falling down to her ass squeezing as the moan spilled from from her lips like a flip of a switch , the resolved that was holding on  by thread snapping  . Instant he stood lips crashing against her harder , hungrier , her legs wrapped around him as he carried her to her bedroom. Her top thrown to one corner and her short to another like the clothing personal offended him . the groan when he seen it she been sitting beside him all night nothing underneath  , laying bare beneath him as he pull his own clothes off in record speed. His grip under her legs pulling her close  her chest rising and falling, her eyes pleading him to continue shit he had to of died to get this piece of heaven .  kissing down her legs not once did his eyes moved , her mouth open as he place sloppy kisses slow , tortuous she needed him to do something before she was driven crazy . closer and closer til she felt it  , felt his tongue broad stroke from her entrance to her clit . head falling back as sound that came from her lips almost had him blowing his lips .  paradise if it had a taste it would be her sweet pussy if he could he’d spend the rest of his life between her plush thighs. A grip on his hair as she cried out his name a sound he imagine and yet it didn’t do it justice , none of this was even close to what his mind tried to conjure.

“ fuck bobby don’t stop “  her hips following his movement as  his tongue swirling around her clit as his finger pumping in and out hitting spots she never knew existed , the fact he ate her pussy like it was first and last meal , like it was his first taste of wandering the desert . robert floyd ate pussy like it was an olympic sport and he was going for gold  . he had her ruined  knowing nothing , not even her own fingers could ever feel as good. Build and building  , winding so tight she could feel it coming to the point she was already trembling crying not to stop it was coming and coming til stopped . 

“ the fuck” she panted as he rose cocky smirk on his face she felt like sobbing and slapping him all at one . 

“ when you cum  for me for first  baby it gonna be on my cock “ he kissed her nose . she went to argue but what ever argument she had turned to a moan inch by inch he filling her. 

“ fuck so tight .. she made for me huh.. All mine” he groan his forehead on her  kissing her lips til  she bucked her hips a sign for him to move his hand on her cheek kissing  almost swallowing the moans , trust slow at first feeling  his cock stretching her velvet walls . soft sensual movement til his pace got faster and fast hold her face in place as he looked down . his other hand coming between her bodie , teasing her puffy clit he could feel it feel her getting closer and closer the way she was sucking him in , how being buried in her sweat cunt was addictive. 

“ i’m gonna fuckk … like that gonna “ she couldn’t get it out everytime  she tried to get the sentence out of her mouth he would hit the spot so deep in side she was going brainless .  pressure building crying his name like it was only word she knew in that moment was . like a explosion her eyes rolling back as her legs clenched around him walls tight on his cock . 

“ good fucking girl “ he growled his own movement sloppy til he was shooting his own release painting her cervix with thick ropes of cum .  body cover in sheen of sweat his lips peppering her face with delicate kisses before he got her lips . a collective wince as he pulled out collapsing beside her pulling her to his chest.

“ that…” 

“Is happening all the time agreed .. your a dick” she sigh happily.

“ why’s that baby girl “ he chucking looking down at blissed out grin on her face. 

“ we could of been doing that all this time .. but hey least i was right risk are worth taking “ she giggled as he pounced on her kissing her once more , kiss his best friend and his girl .

[worldofheroes]

Rooster’s TLC

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: rooster takes care of you after you had a little too much to drink

warnings: alcohol, hangovers, fluffy rooster

wc: 507

a/n: based on this request! a short and sweet fic, and we all know bradley is super sweet like his dad 🥰

You’ve almost quite literally wrapped yourself around Rooster at The Hard Deck. Snuggled into his side with one of his arms wrapped around you.

He’s talking to the Dagger Squad about who knows what, you’re not paying much attention to them.

You do know, however, that it’s getting late and you want to go home. You’ve gotten a little antsy, and Phoenix has picked up on it.

“Rooster, take your girl home. She’s tired,” Phoenix smiles.

Rooster looks down at you. “Is that what is happening here?” he teases you.

“Roo,” you whine.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, kissing your head. “We’re headed out, see you all later.”

The two of you recieve a chorus of “goodnight”s from the squad as you leave.

“You had a little too much to drink, huh?” Rooster says as he helps you into the Bronco.

“Just a little,” you agree. “I’m gonna hate myself tomorrow.”

“Let’s get you home and get some water then go to bed,” Rooster says as he gets in on the drivers side.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Rooster turns the radio on, but doesn’t turn the volume up too far - just enough to hear a little bit of a beat.

As you make your way back home, Rooster’s hand wanders over to your side, settling on your thigh. You place your hand over his.

“I love you,” you tell him.

“I love you too, y/n.”

Rooster gives your thigh a squeeze, and you hate that you’re slightly turned on just by his touch.

When you finally make it home, Rooster again helps you out of the Bronco and into the house.

“Roos,” you mumble.

“I’m right here. Let’s get you to the couch,” he tells you as he guides you to the couch.

You fall onto the couch and lay on your side as Rooster puts a blanket over you.

“I have such a bad headache.”

“I know,” Rooster says as he walks to the kitchen to find some pain killers.

“I love you, Roo,” you mumble.

Rooster comes back with some water and painkillers.

“I love you, y/n,” Rooster says softly. “Let’s sit up so you can drink something.”

You slowly sit up and take the painkillers and a drink of water.

“Can you stay down here with me?” you ask him.

“You don’t think you can make it to bed?” Rooster asks, setting a hand on your thigh.

“No,” you say. “I don’t feel good at all.”

“Okay, I can stay here.”

“Thank you.”

Rooster grabs some cushions from the other couch and places them on the floor by the couch you’re laying on. He grabs a blanket and sits on the cushions, watching you.

“You’re really sweet, Bradley,” you say, curling up under the blanket.

“I’d do anything for you, baby,” he says, leaning over and kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” you mumble.

Rooster chuckles. “I love you too.”

You start to drift off to sleep, and Rooster stays by your side the entire night, checking on you every so often.

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Jake Seresin And The Unfortunate Hat Situation

jake seresin x fem!reader 3k words

summary: You’re visiting Jake’s family in Texas for the first time and so far, it’s been going well. Just that Jake may have forgotten to mention the hat rule. 

another cowboy fic because i fucking can

disclaimer: strong allusions to smut. im not kidding. this is basically straight up dirty talk all the way through

a/n: i’m warning you once about all the inaccuracies in here and thats it. read at your own risk. i have literally no clue whatsoever about texas and/or cowboys and did not have it in me to research cowboy history for hours on end, like- i tried, okay? i really did try. i know facts about cowboy hats now that i never felt the need to know (though “dont sleep with your cowboy hat on”, um... yeah? thanks? i totally would have done that otherwise) but i still do not have the information to back this shit up lmao

top gun masterlist

(yes i did have to use an everybody wants some gif. during the past week ive rewatched this film more times than i can count and i will take every opportunity i get to talk about it)

“Enlighten me”, you chuckled, spreading your arms, a bottle of beer in your right hand. “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats? Isn’t that kind of their thing?”

You were visiting Texas for the first time - a week off of work, away from the Navy and the Dagger Squad for a bit, to meet Jake’s friends and family back home. You’d talked to most every one of them over the phone whenever he had found the time to call, but you’d never actually met them in person before this. So it had been an adventure from the start: getting on a plane in San Diego to take you to Texas where Jake had grown up, being picked up at the airport by his mother, driving two hours to the farm they owned (”You grew up on a farm?”, you’d asked when he’d told you, wheezing at the mental image of teenage Jake herding sheep), meeting his dad, being surprised by both his sisters, getting to see his childhood bedroom. 

And then, to top it off: the sound of his alarm at the crack of dawn this morning to go teach you how to ride a horse. 

Needless to say that you’d been buzzing with nervous energy for the past few days. Not that you weren’t happy - it was just all a bit much at once. 

After lunch he’d taken you into the city and you’d gone shopping for some real cowboy boots. He’d planned to take you to a bar in the evening, to introduce you to some friends. After all you only had a week here and neither of you felt like missing out on something. 

When you’d wanted to try cowboy hats in the store too, Jake had snatched them from you and grabbed your hands, pulling you close to him, telling you that you’d get one when you’d become a real cowgirl. Since you doubted that would ever happen, you’d pouted and tried to convince him with kisses and, when that hadn’t worked, half-hearted threats, but he wouldn’t be persuaded even the slightest. He’d only looked down at you with raised eyebrows until you’d caved and satisfied yourself with cursing under your breath. 

So here you were: Cowboy boots, jeans shorts and a button-up and no cowboy hat in sight. 

Actually, there was one in sight. Jake was wearing his, in all his Texan glory, laughing with some of his friends at the bar. The thing was, he was the only guy wearing his hat. There were some cowboys strutting about with them on their heads, but most of them didn’t have one - hat hair, yes, but no hat. Hence your initial question: “Why are none of the cowboys wearing cowboy hats?” 

“Shit, Jake didn’t tell you?”, Kendra - one of Jake’s only female friends here, who’d immediately decided she liked you and pulled you to one of the tables for some girl talk - let out a laugh. “No wonder it’s still on his head. We were getting worried already.” 

It was pretty clear to everyone that you weren’t from around here, so you saw no reason to hide your confusion.

“Now you’ve lost me entirely. What?”, you asked, masking your frown with a laugh. You’d been here for hardly two days and you didn’t think you’d felt as embarrassed ever before. You knew about literally nothing. At least you’d done somewhat well at horseback riding, which could’ve been because of Jake’s arms around you and his hands over yours as you - he - held the reins, but either way you were proud of yourself for not falling off and landing on your ass. 

“It’s like this: Ladies didn’t wear hats for a really long time. Cowboys wore the hats. So when you saw a lady with a cowboy hat on - that was her man’s. A sign that she belonged to him. Property shit and all.” She waved it off as if dismissing the concept. “Changed over the past few decades, of course. Better that way too. Ladies can wear whatever they want now. But the thought kind of stuck. You see a guy without a hat, he’s probably taken. You see a girl with a hat, that’s probably her man’s. And before you ever steal a hat, you should know the hat rule.” 

You raised your eyebrows. Your stomach did weird little flips as she talked. Jake hadn’t explained any of this to you. 

“The hat rule?”, you asked. Kendra grinned and leaned in, pretending to let out some big secret. 

“You wear the hat”, she said and paused for a second for dramatic effect, “You wear the cowboy.” 

You breathed out. 

“Oh.” 

Oh my ass, you thought. 

Jake hadn’t let you buy your own hat for a reason. And then he’d gone ahead and not given you that reason. What the actual fuck. 

You would’ve loved to wear his hat. You would’ve loved the thought of him claiming you like that, letting you wear his hat, showing everyone that yeah, you were Jake Seresin’s girl. But no. He’d left you completely in the dark, hadn’t let a single word slip. And he was still wearing that goddamn hat himself. 

Like a single fucking guy, not a man in a loving relationship.

Somehow, now that you knew, you were more annoyed by the fact that he was wearing it than that he just hadn’t told you at all. God, he could’ve left it at home. He could’ve taken it off. He could’ve just put it on your head without telling you why if he didn’t want to. 

And right there, that was the part you just didn’t understand. Why hadn’t he told you? He should have known you well enough by now to realise that you would absolutely adore wearing that hat. Not only because you wanted to wear a hat (which you did) but also because you wanted to wear his hat (which you did even more). After all, it wasn’t only him claiming you - it was you claiming him as well. And as horrible as the history of that hat rule was, in this present day you felt like it would only have been fair of him to tell you. You wanted to have that chance of showing him off. Of him showing you off, which he did so happily back in San Diego. 

“Hey”, Kendra said, her expression a bit more serious as she put a hand to your arm and pulled you from your thoughts. “I’m sure Jake didn’t mean to hurt you. He may seem like a bastard, but he’s actually a real sweetheart.” 

You snorted at her, nodding along. 

“He is”, you agreed. “Which is kind of why it hurts even more. I don’t get why he wouldn’t just tell me. It’s not like he’s ever been scared I’d say no to him or something.”

Kendra smiled and squeezed your arm reassuringly. 

“Try not to worry about it too much. Just ask him when you get home later, yeah? Communication is key.” Her smile turned into a grin. She winked at you. “And hey, you can always wear my hat if you’d like.” 

You forced yourself to smile as well as you took a sip of your beer. “If I actually were single, I’d definitely take you up on that offer, but I’m not, and I don’t think Jake would like it much.” 

Her grin only deepened. She had dimples, you realised, and the hat on her head matched her eye colour. You were glad to have her here with you. She was someone you were sure you could become good friends with over time. 

“That makes it even better”, she said conspicuously. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her ankles over the edge of the table as she tipped her hat back. “He never told you about the hats. You don’t know anything in his eyes, honey. Use it against him.” 

There was a twinkle in her gaze that told you she was looking for nothing short of mischief and you had the distinct feeling that she’d been the ‘bad influence’ on Jake in high school that he’d talked about so often. She seemed like a troublemaker. But she also seemed genuine. And she was right - in Jake’s eyes, you were getting to know one of his friends, talking about some girly stuff (which he probably assumed was himself), having a nice night. Not learning about cowboy customs that he’d just so forgotten to mention. 

Jake usually didn’t get jealous. He trusted you the same way you trusted him. But he got possessive nonetheless - always with a hand on your back when you were talking to someone he thought was flirting with you, kissing you at the most inappropriate times, making sure that everyone knew you were his. Now he’d had the goddamn chance and hadn’t taken it. And you didn’t fucking know why. 

But you were damn determined to find out. 

Kendra slid the hat off her head and offered it to you. You took one deep breath before you reached for it. 

You let your fingertips skip over the rim for a moment. Were you really about to do this? Then you put it on your head. 

Alright. If Jake wasn’t going to tell you about the way this worked on his own accord, you’d make him tell you. 

Kendra emptied her beer and you followed suit before the both of you got up. She grabbed both bottles in one hand, turning to you to send you another of those winks. 

“I’ll bring these back to the bar and get us new ones. The dancefloor’s all yours.” 

With a nervous smile, you adjusted your newly aqcuired hat and made your way onto the dancefloor. There was soft music playing in the background - country, of course, loud but not loud enough to disturb conversation. It wasn’t late enough for that just yet. Which was honestly a relief, since you had zero clue whatsoever about line dancing or whatever it was they did down here. This way there were only a few couples twirling each other back and forth and some people moving to the beat all on their own. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to really feel the music: the guitar, the steady drums, the vocals. 

Slowly, you started swaying - from one side to the other, turning, twirling, one step, then the next, heels here, toes there. A grin was making its way onto your face. The music grew, not as much in volume as in pace, and you didn’t know just when you had started to forget about everything except your movements (like the people watching, for example), but then the song changed and you gasped as you realised you knew it. Eyes fluttering open, hands coming together to clap, lips twisting into an actual laugh as you sang along, catching Kendra’s gaze and waving her over. 

She joined you with a laugh, grabbed your hand to twirl you around, and god, her voice was heavenly. For just a split second you wondered how Jake hadn’t ended up falling for her. You certainly would have. 

And speaking - more like thinking, but whatever - of the devil, you felt an all too familiar hand on your shoulder. You turned at the same time that Kendra let go of you, allowing you to admire your boyfriend in all his furious glory. 

Not that he actually looked furious. Not to anyone but you, not with that facade he wore whenever anyone got under his skin. But you, well... You’d been with him long enough to understand that twitch of his jaw, that tension in his shoulders, that flicker in his eyes. And yet - the cowboy hat still sat on his head. 

“I got it from here, Kendra”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, as you held your breath. She snorted, but still made to move away, muttering something under her breath that you didn’t catch. Then Jake spoke again. “Take your hat, Kendra.” 

He grabbed it from where it rested on your head and threw it at her without looking away from you. She sucked in a breath. 

“If you throw my hat again, I’ll kick your ass, Seresin”, she said and you could tell that even though they were friends, she wasn’t kidding. Shit, the people here were really fucking serious about their hats. Another reason why you were mad at Jake for not telling you about any of it. 

“Next time, don’t set it on my girl’s head”, he growled - growled, really, you didn’t know what else to call it. She scoffed and walked off. 

“How could she know I was your girl?”, you whispered, challenging him even though he already looked like you’d crossed some line that he’d drawn without telling you. “How could anyone?” 

For a few moments, he kept quiet. You defiantly stared up at him. Should he think whatever he fucking wanted to, this was entirely his fault. 

Then something changed in his expression. 

“You found out about the hat rule”, he said, “And the first thing you did was go and put on somebody else’s.” 

“Well if my boyfriend doesn’t want to have me wear his hat-” 

You couldn’t react as quickly as Jake had gripped you by the waist and pulled you close to him, forcing you to tip your head back to keep looking at him. He was, in fact, so close now that you could just kiss him and honestly, you were tempted. Just as tempted as you’d been when he’d come out of the bathroom looking like that, just as tempted as you’d been when you’d left the house, just as tempted as you’d been in his truck. But you were also stubborn. And you had good reasons not to kiss him right now (even though they were getting harder and harder to remember by the second).

“Darling, I’d go wild for you with my hat on.” 

You swallowed. Hard. 

“So why am I not wearing it?”, you asked through gritted teeth. You couldn’t quite believe just how easily this whole situation was getting under your skin. But it seriously hurt your ego - and not just that. The fact that Jake hadn’t told you about something so important in his hometown, some, as ridiculous as it may be, piece of culture, something that would so clearly show everyone that you were dating him, really, actually, seriously dating him, stung more than you wanted to admit. It was like someone had asked him outright if he was taken and he’d said no. 

“‘Cause I told you to wait”, he drawled, “Didn’t I? Wait ‘til you’re a real cowgirl.” 

Curiosity and frustration were mixing in your stomach, a weird, dangerous combo. You grabbed for his collar, pulling on it just a bit too hard - nothing he couldn’t stand his ground against. You were feeling insulted by all this and you found that you should let him know. 

“What’s a girl like me gotta do to become one in your eyes, hm, Hangman?” 

Hangman. You only called him that when you meant business. It was like a mother using her child’s full name whenever it got in serious trouble. Jake stiffened, fingers digging into your hips so firmly that you were sure you’d be able to see the marks in the mirror later on. You’d hit a nerve. Always did when you called him by his callsign. No more Jake, no more baby, none of that. 

“Behave”, he said, eyes fixed on yours, that one word carrying so much more meaning. You didn’t care. For once, you really didn’t fucking care. You wanted him riled up, wanted him furious, wanted him right at this breaking point. So you smiled.  

“Like a dog?” 

He’d smashed his lips on yours before you could react. 

All teeth and tongue, decisive, possessive, angry. You didn’t want to give in as quickly as you did. But he hardly left you a choice - he was everywhere, arms wrapped so tightly around you, chest pressed so firmly against yours, not giving you the option to escape, to duck away, to tease him any further. So instead of doing that, instead of making him run after you more, you let him have the control. All of it. Instead of turning, instead of making him chase you, you pulled him close to you by his collar with all the force you could manage, pulled him into you, pulled him with you as you stumbled backwards from the sudden change of weight, put your entire trust in him to keep you upright. You couldn’t breathe. You didn’t want to if that meant letting go. 

Not with how much emotion you were putting into this fucking kiss. 

Jake was the one to break away first. Pupils blown, cheeks reddened (you were sure you looked even worse), panting. You loosened your grip on his collar and ran a hand through your hair instead. 

Somewhere in the back of your head, you remembered that you were still in a bar, still in the middle of the dancefloor, still under the watchful eyes of his friends. A different part was screaming at you to fuck it and fuck him right here, right now. 

“Shit”, he breathed, resting his forehead against yours. His hat let a shadow fall over both your faces. “You’re gon’ be the death of me someday.” 

“Hopefully not too soon”, you teased, a smile playing on your lips as he pulled back just a bit. “I still gotta find out how to become a cowgirl after all.” 

The corner of his mouth quirked up as well. He raised his eyebrows, examining you for a second. 

“You really wanna know, sweetheart?” 

You let out a laugh. “Fuck yeah.” 

He leaned in close, breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, and you had to swallow. This felt intimate, somehow. 

“You’re gon’ be a cowgirl once you rode your cowboy.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. He pulled back with a grin. Smug, you realised. He was so fucking proud of himself for this - for having caught you off guard like that. You couldn’t let him win that easily. Not with that already inflated ego. 

“All of this just to get me into your bed?”, you chuckled. “Damn, Seresin. Lotta work for no reason, hm? I’m in it at the end of every day anyway.” 

He shrugged - as best as he could with his hands still on your waist. 

“What can I say? I aim to please.” 

You couldn’t help but grin too. The angry, sizzling tension had dissolved into something much more pleasant, much more dizzying. Something that set your skin ablaze and your mind on fire. You grabbed one of his hands from your waist and intertwined your fingers with his. 

“Want to get out of here?”, you asked. He leaned in and kissed you with a smile - slow and steady and sensual, wholly different from before. 

When he pulled back, you were breathless again. 

“Always.” 

[vicsnook]

Backseat Lovin’ | Bob Floyd x Reader

word count: 1544

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI 18+, Drinking

notes: Hi y’all! I’ve been back on my Bob quick lately after seeing the promo for lessons of chemistry so here’s a little something something 😏. Hope y’all enjoy & don’t forget to like/reblog. Got some Rhett fics coming soon btw!

Bob was sitting in the sand reading a book while the squad played a game of dogfight football when you spot him. His brows furrowed as he read, making you chuckle which made him look at you and give you a small wave before returning to his book. You blushed at having been caught staring but waved back. For months you’ve been dropping hints that you like Bob but he seemed oblivious to it. Penny called you back in from your break so you snuck one more glance at the clueless WSO and headed back in.

The A/C did little to cool the heat as you washed off some glasses at the bar. Thankfully you’d worn a tank top today but were not enjoying the extra attention that came with that. “What can I get ya?” you asked Bob, who had just taken a seat in front of you.

“I’ll take a beer.”

Since you met Bob, he always ordered a lemonade and despite the insistence of Hangman and Rooster, he’d never drank alcohol. You set down the now dry glass and look up at him, arching an eyebrow in question. He gave you a half-smile as he shrugged his shoulders in response. You could feel him eyeing you as you reached for the bottle opener.

6 beers later Bob’s half-smile was replaced by a mischievous grin. He went to ask you for another beer but was cut short by Hangman whose hand he noticed lingered way longer than it needed to when you handed him a drink. As he stood up to go to the restroom, the alcohol rushed to his head, making him stumble and nearly trip over a stool.

“Hey Bob, you alright?” You ask him, watching as he waves you off and continues to stumble until he finally makes it to the restroom. “I wonder what’s gotten into him.” You murmur to Hangman who was still looking in the direction Bob went.

Hangman turned back to you, giving you one of his know it all looks and his million dollar smile that you hated before saying, “He’s just trying to work up the courage to ask you out, y/n.” You stood there stunned, as Hangman chuckled and walked away. Maybe all the hints you’d dropped finally would pay off tonight.

Half an hour later, you noticed Bob still wasn’t back from the restroom so you flagged down Penny and went on your break to check on Bob. Knocking on the men’s bathroom door, no sound came from the other side, so you turn the knob and it was luckily unlocked.

“Bob?”

He was sitting on the floor leaning against a stall nearly passed out. When shaking him, he looks up at you and reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I’ve been wanting to do that,” the tip of his ears turn pink at the admission as you help him up to his feet. “Why didn’t you?”

“Too chicken.” He drank the glasses of water you passed him throughout the rest of the night without complaint, sobering up slowly. If you learned one thing about him tonight was that he was a lightweight.

Everyone was almost gone by now except the dagger squad who were still playing pool. You finished wiping all the tables down and turned around to put up chairs when you noticed Bob was already halfway through doing so. He smiled at you when you caught his eye and continued until it was all done.

“I’ll stay guys, gotta walk Y/N to her car,” Bob told the group after you’d cash them out. It wasn't the first time he stayed behind to walk you to your car but today you were more nervous than usual as he followed you out and watched you lock the back door.

Your words caught in your throat as you turned around to find Bob right in front of you. His eyes looked down to your lips and before you could say anything his lips were latching onto yours. He kisses you softly at first but then it turns desperate and you have to hold onto him to not lose your balance. He pulls you closer to him as you run your fingers through his hair and a moan escapes your lips as you feel his growing bulge against your thigh.

You manage to slide your hand between your bodies, cupping him through his pants. That action alone has him pushing you against the back door and dipping his head to kiss your neck. “Follow me to the truck,” he whispers in your ear.

His truck was parked on the side of the Hard Deck which was not illuminated and was the perfect private spot since it couldn’t be seen from the road. You take his hand and climb into the back seat closing the door behind you. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you respond by straddling his lap.

His hands grip your ass as you grind against him. “I need to hear you say it honey.” He whispers, kissing your jaw softly. “Yes,” you respond, tilting your head as he trails kisses down your neck and you’re almost certain you’ve soaked through your shorts as he continues to rub against your clit with his bulge.

He slides his hands under your shirt and kneads your breasts and you want him even more now. “Bob I want you,” you manage to say and he’s kissing you rougher now, biting your bottom lip as he pulls away to lift you off his lap so you can slide off your shorts.

He sets you back down on his clothed bulge and rocks you back and forth even harder than before. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ear as you match his pace and feel yourself getting closer. Your grip on his hair tightens and he presses you down against him even more. But it’s when kisses than one spot of your neck though that you are pushed over the edge.

He holds you close as you ride out your orgasm and is careful setting you onto the seat beside him as he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. You blush at the soaked spot in the front. His cock springs free and you feel a shiver go down your spine at the sight of it. You’d heard the rumors that he was well endowed but didn’t know until know how much truth that held.

He ripped open the condom and slid it on then reached out to help you position yourself over him. The tip of his cock pressed at your entrance and you slowly slid on to it, moaning at the feeling of it stretching you open. His breathing was heavy as he tried not to buck up into you.

You set a slow pace, moving up and down as he holds on to your hips and his lips catch yours. The tip of his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly and you throw your head back in pleasure. He wraps his arms around you and begins to thrust up into you sharply. Your nails dig into his back and you try to keep up with his pace but as you feel your high coming, you increase the pace.

Your moans fill the car and he feels you clench around him. He kisses along neck and collarbones, anything he can get his lips on as you move faster. “I’m so close,” you wail as he circles your clit with his thumb.

“Cum for me baby,” he commands, circling your clit faster as you ride him erratically. Your legs start to shake as you reach your high and he continues thrusting into you through your orgasm. You pulse around his cock and he reaches his high too, pulling you closer to his chest as he comes.

Both of you are out panting, as he slowly pulls you off him and you settle in the seat beside him. He takes off the condom and carefully pulls his pants back up, running outside quickly to dispose of it. He gets a pack of wipes from the front console once he’s back and cleans you up, kissing the side of your thigh as he slides your underwear and shorts back on. You smile lazily at him and take his outstretched hand, your legs wobbling when they hit the asphalt.

He pulls you close to him and gives you a soft kiss and he knows at that moment that he wants this not once but for the rest of his life. You lay your head on his chest and smile, hoping this leads to more. “Can I drive you home? I can bring you tomorrow to get your car,” he asks and you nod happily.

As you reach your house, you’ve made up your mind so when he walks you to the door, you pull him inside your house with you. He follows with no hesitation and kicks off his jeans, joining you to cuddle in bed. “Can I take you out tomorrow?” he mumbles sleepily, kissing the top of your head. “Absolutely.” You reply, drifting off to sleep happily in the arms of Bob Floyd.

[notroosterbradshaw]

Oh thank you for the compliment :) i'm sure you could do it justice but maybe we could get some generic hangman fluff maybe with them at the beach and he looks out for her by putting sunblock on her and making sure she's eats lunch and stays hydrated and he's teasing her and being very playful with her? Thanks



Okie doke, you get your Hangman on the beach, nonny. I hope you enjoy! Hangman fluff awaits. Dagger Squad future fic.

You liked this new tradition you were able to share with Jake. Each year, around the same time depending on deployments, family commitments, you know the normal life stuff, Dagger Squad came from far and wide to try and get back to the beach for their annual defensive football game and bonfire. Mid-afternoon, the egos start running their mouths about which team will win, and what the stakes are (and the winners and partners always enjoyed the 200 push-ups for the losers and Fanboy's sigh at wishing he never mentioned it).

"Right here, baby?" Jake asked quietly, saying a quiet hello to Bob's partner and burgeoning baby belly and Penny. His warm palm skimming the skin between your ripped jeans shorts and his old Foreigner tee you'd knotted in the back to make work. He nuzzled your neck as he dropped the cooler and whipped off his shirt. He hadn't buttoned it so what difference did it mean as he slid out of his flip flops and put all his gear into a pile and into the beach bag.

Some regiments he just couldn't shake, and neatness was one of them. So was the gym. You would love him endlessly anyway, but he was proud of his body and worked hard on maintaining it as he got older. You were proud he was proud he took such good care of himself and you reaped the benefits.

Ha gave you some space as he unfolded the blanket and flicked it out onto the warm sand as Harvard and Yale approached him and within seconds, they were talking about recent deployments, new kit, and manoeuvres. You were as supportive as you could be with things you'd rather be kept in the dark over. Jake respected that. He knew what he did terrifed you but the boys just understood it better than you ever could. You were absolutely not offended.

You tossed some bits and pieces on the blanket, camera, snacks, and sunscreen. "Ooh," Jake smirked, popping to pick up the sunscreen. "May I?" he asked eagerly.

"May I?" you repeated, biting back your grin. "Aren't you proper today?"

"I would hate for you to be burnt. It's a skin trauma, baby," he protested as you took your sunnies off and glared at him. "And I wanna feel you up. Sue me," he shrugged, his true personality shining through.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" you roughly patted his cheek and the masochist in him loved the lack of caress in your touch. He adjusted his jaw appreciatively. "Okay, Jake. Just to avoid the trauma."

"Your skin is your biggest organ," he reminded you, watching you lift the shirt over your shoulders, licking his lips at the additional skin you'd been keeping under wraps. "Not mine..." he muttered cheekily.

"Jake, knock it off," you laughed as he grinned wide, turning you away from him. You wouldn't complain about the extra touch and affection that lasted a good five minutes, you we melting under his light touch. He kissed the nape of your neck in finality. "I'm good?" you asked quietly.

"You're very, very good," he growled playfully swatting your butt.

You gave him space and sat on the beach blanket, sunnies back on, and Jake plopped your hat on your head. "Thank you."

"Here ya go, sweetheart," Jake handed you your water bottle. "Gettin' hot out here," he grinned. He thrived in hot weather. You smiled against his lips as he laid a gentle kiss on you. "You wanna play?" he could hear the catcalling and jeering for Jake to toss the ball around.

"Would rather put knitting needles in my eyes. Only here to watch the bodies," you joked... kind of.

"You just mean mine, right?" he asked, a mix of unsurity and arrogance as you laughed.

"Yes, Jake. Only yours. Go have fun," you reassured him, taking a seat and a cool slug from your water bottle as he stood over you and squatted to give you another sweet kiss.

"I'm glad you're here, sweetheart. I'm happy as this group gets bigger that you're here with me and you get to meet the people I trust more than my own family."

You cupped his jaw. "They are your family. They are our family, baby. You big softie."

Warm in the sun, but you noticed his ears flush and duck his eyes. "Don't tell anyone or my reputation will be shattered," he teased as you both laughed loudly, and his heart swelled to bring that smile to your beautiful face. "Gimme some lovin' before I go and kick these preppy asses," he smiled against your lips and kissed you deeply. "Another," he demanded. "You're so sweet, I can't handle it," his nose nuzzled against yours.

You knew his friends were mocking him behind his back but you were very confident he didn't change his behaviour around his friends and was comfortable enough to lay some love on you and you were very aware of Penny's stare... and jaw-dropping.

"Jake, Jesus!" you hear Coyote holler.

"Your bestie is pissed," you told Jake as he looked back over his shoulder and gave the team a selective one-finger salute. "Go, before they think it's me keeping you here. And not your that's horribly whipped."

"I'm whipped," he admitted and stretched, this incredible body flexing in all the right places, the golden sun making the beads of sweat his flawless skin glisten. Jesus, he was just so sexy. "I freely admit it."

"Go," you scooted him as his persona changed and Hangman arrived.

"All right, all right, all right, who is ready for some football?" he boomed, drifting over to his friends. It got rough and competitive, sweaty and slippery pretty quickly and you got closer a while later to take some polaroids as the sun set for shits and giggles later tonight to hand out. You had a pleasant afternoon as more friends and family joined you and kept you busy.

As the game was called and losers paid their penance in the form of push-ups, you watched Jake and Rooster put together the bonfire, the part you were most excited for. Yes, Jake Seresin was hotter, if possible, in most light, but the way the flames flickered over his face as you chatted with Natasha and he kept his arm around your shoulder, under the pretence of keeping you warmed before the roaring fire.

"You hungry, babydoll?" he murmured in your ear, the barbecue well and truly cranked and the smells driving your tummy into overdrive. "Beer?"

"Yes to both, please?" you asked and he nodded, kissing you tenderly before leaving you with Natasha. She shook her head in disbelief.

"Who is that guy and what did he do with Bagman?" she asked, astonished. You grinned. "That is a man in love."

[nurse-floyd]

Off Duty

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x Reader poly!fic

Warnings: none - pure fluff

Request: “poly jake and bob!! poly jake and bob! poly jake and bob! soft day at the beach with the squad and the boyfs i beg” from my boo @vivwritesfics 💕

A/N: is it short? Yes. Did I make up for it with a cute moodboard and fluff? Yes!

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the sandy beach and glistening off the deep blue of the ocean. You and the rest of The Dagger Squad had decided to head to the beach for a much-needed and well-deserved break from the mayhem that was Top Gun. You stood at the edge of the water, the warm water lapping at your feet as you looked out to the ocean, watching as the boats passed by.

You felt someone coming up behind you, their shadow growing larger until a familiar voice called out, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Hey sweetheart, what’re you doing?” Bob’s voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around your middle, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he joined you in looking out to the ocean.

“Just enjoying the view…and the company,” you replied as you turned your head to place a gentle kiss on his lips.

Another shadow joined you, his hand snaking between yours and Bob’s body as he sandwiched you between their two bodies. “Speaking of company,” Jake interrupted, “I think we’re the luckiest guys on this beach.”

Bob chuckled, his arms coming to wrap around the pair of you now. “Couldn’t agree more.”

“Come, everyone’s here,” Jake said as he placed a kiss on your cheek before he held out his hands for you and Bob to drag you towards the group of pilots who had gathered a little way up the beach.

The three of you made your way back to the rest of the group who were setting up for a game of beach volleyball. Phoenix and Rooster were already in a heated debate over who was on whose team while Fanboy and Payback worked on securing the net in the sand.

“Finally decided to join us, hey y/n?” she teased as you approached. “Was beginning to think you would rather spend the day with those two.”

“Wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to whoop Rooster’s ass at a game of volleyball,” you replied, sending a wink his way.

The teams were quickly decided, with you, Bob, Hangman, and Phoenix on one side and Rooster, Payback, and Coyote on the other. The game was exactly what you needed after the last few stressful weeks of training. It was full of laughter, playful banter, and quite a few impressive saves, not that you’d tell any of the guys that for fear of not hearing the end of it. Hangman’s competitive streak was in full force, as were the others'.

After a particularly intense rally, it seemed that all was lost until you dove for the ball, sending it back and securing the deciding point for your team. Bob held out a hand for you as he pulled you to your feet with ease, high-fiving you. “Nice save!”

Jake pulled you in for a quick kiss, squeezing your ass. “That’s my girl.”

“Get a room!” Rooster called over the net as the ball came flying past you both.

A new game started and continued until you were all overheated and needed a break. You all collapsed into the sand, passing beers and snacks around. The sun began to set slowly over the horizon, casting the sky with hues of oranges and pinks.

“This is perfect,” you sighed as you leaned back against Bob’s chest. Jake lay close by, his hands intertwined with yours.

“Yeah, it is,” Bob agreed as he placed a kiss on the side of your head.

As the evening wore on, the group lit a bonfire, sharing stories and more laughs as you settled between the two loves of your life. Snuggled between them and surrounded by your friends was where you wished you could stay forever. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day as the night drew in and stars dotted the sky as the sound of waves and soft conversation surrounded you.

[dazzlerwriting]

call me & i’ll come

robert ‘bob’ floyd x singer!reader

Pictures are not mine, credit to pinterest!

3.5k words

summary: inspired by “Watermelon” by Jane + John Q Public. after bob joins a D&D campaign to make friends in San Diego, he gets talked into also joining the band that is formed within the group. Over time he and the lead singer slowly get closer and closer. What happens when they kiss, but don’t talk about what the kiss meant to them?

warnings: slight miscommunication! fluff fluff fluff. a bit angsty at one point. the end gets a bit heated so 18+ MDNI!!!! Reader uses she/her pronouns, but theres no other descriptors! petname “darlin” is used twice. use of y/n (i tried so hard not to lol) flashback is bold and italicized

authors note: first off, thank you @lewmagoo for posting about drummer rhett, which in turn helped inspire this story! & everyone posting their Atta Boy stuff was also a huge inspiration to this!! only my second fic and i wrote so much. i just kept going and didnt stop until it was finished! im so sorry lmao. but i hope you enjoy!! this is mostly from bob’s pov!

Bob Floyd has a secret. Well, two. The first one is that he plays in a band in his free time, specifically, he plays the drums. Anyone who may watch how Bob acts when he thinks no one is paying attention, they would see him drumming on his lap, on the desk, or on any free surface. But the Dagger Squad isn’t that astute when it comes to their fellow workers lives. Natasha knows but, there’s a certain trust to be had between a pilot & their WSO. So Bob told her, and while she was taken a bit aback that the quiet Bob Floyd played the drums in an actual band, she was supportive.

Now, the secret that not even Natasha knows, the one Bob would swear he would take to his grave, is that he has a crush on the lead singer in their band. It's not just a silly crush that would go away with time; no, this crush has stuck since he first met her at a community D&D meetup.

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Flashback

He saw a sign that read “New Dungeons and Dragons campaign, starting Wednesday! All leveled players welcomed!” on the board at the grocery store a week after being stationed in San Diego. He decided he needed a creative outlet after work and maybe to make friends that weren’t pilots. So he went, and that’s when he saw her. She was their Game Master and she was wearing a renaissance faire-esque outfit. From that first sighting, he was a goner. He would look at her theatrical storytelling during their sessions with a fondness that rivaled the way Orpheus looked at Euridyce. Quickly he would look away before she caught him, but if he had kept looking, he would have noticed her looking at him the same way.

Somewhere along the way, another member of the party, named Blake, noticed Bob drumming on his thigh when the game would die down for a bit. They suggested Bob joined their band, seeing as they were in desperate need of a new drummer, the last one leaving to hit it big time. He went on a whole spill about everything having to do with the band and Bob was apprehensive at first, performing was way out of his comfort zone. He wasn’t like Rooster, he didn’t think he had the proper stage presence to perform for a crowd, and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself.

But that’s when she walked over to the two, a smirk on her face as she looked at Blake and said “Blake… go easy on Bobby boy here. I’m sure he doesn’t need a whole infomercial on why he should join us.” She turned to Bob and put her hand on his arm, and for a second he was sure his brain short-circuited. Now with a soft smile on her face, she gently said “Bob we would love for you to join us, only if you’re comfortable. I know you could be called away at a second’s notice, but regardless it would be an honor to have you as our drummer.” He sat there for a second just taking her in, from the casual way she was dressed, to her kind demeanor. He realized at that moment he was royally fucked because he would do anything she asked. He looked her in the eyes and responded “I-I’ll do it,” stuttering a bit but getting through it. Her smile widened, her eyes lit up with what Bob thought could be adoration, and she jumped up a bit clapping, “Great! We rehearse every Saturday, usually, gigs are small just hangouts for friends or family! I’ll text you all the details.” He missed the warmth from her hand as soon as it was gone but her reaction was worth it. That night while Bob was getting ready to sleep, his phone lit up with a text.

Y/N: Thank you for agreeing to this Bob, it truly means a lot. I’m glad you decided to come to our session that first night :)

And after replying, he fell asleep with a grin on his face, not regretting his decision one bit.

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Now after a few months, Bob and the rest of the members have gotten close. They hang out outside of rehearsal and game sessions, and they’ve even been to Bob’s apartment for dinner. That’s when he told Natasha that he was in a band, and introduced them to her. They had a great night and Bob felt like he had found his group of people. The thought of leaving them for a mission, where the outcome was unknown, was scary, but the idea of having them all there to come back to, outweighed the formidable thoughts. Especially when he thought about the kind, charming, and beautiful singer who made it her mission to text Bob every day to ensure he was having a good day. Over the few months they had learned a lot about each other, she made sure to ask him the same questions he would ask her. Including dreams, they had as kids, favorite movies, biggest music inspirations, etc. He opened up to her about the constant teasing from the Dagger Squad, including the “Baby on Board” joke. And he learned she was the biggest nerd outside of D&D, texting him updates on the latest comic she had read, the newest Doctor Who update, and random fun facts about his favorite movies. With every text he received, Bob fell deeper and deeper into Cupid’s chokehold.

It all kinda got turned upside down when he and Phoenix suffered from a Bird Strike during training, and they had to eject. Early morning, after leaving the hospital and getting home, he texted the band group chat to let them know he would be missing both D&D and band practice. He was bombarded with questions regarding his well-being, and texts lending out sympathy to him. But y/n had been quiet, that is until he heard a knock on his door. When he opened it, he saw her standing there with several bags full of groceries and a shy smile on her face. “Hi,” she said softly “I’m sorry for the intrusion but I just wanted to make sure your recovery was a stress-free time, and well, I just, I’m sorry I can drop all this off and go if you want me to. I should’ve texted beforehand and I..” she was rambling now and he thought he couldn’t find her any more endearing than he did right now. He adjusted his glasses and stepped out of the doorway, “N-no come on in, you are welcome here at any time, you know that.” At that, her shoulders dropped a bit in relief and he could see her let out a breath he doubted she knew she was holding in. He led her to the kitchen and watched her get to work doing whatever she was here to do.

“Okay so I have the stuff to make baked potato soup, Alfredo, and I also brought peanuts, chips, Gatorade, and a bunch of other snacks for you.” She quickly got everything out of the bags, putting things in the right place, and Bob was hit with a daydream of this being a normal occurrence. A domestic life with her, both of them dancing around each other in the kitchen, making dinner while dancing to songs like “I’ll Be Seeing You” by Billie Holiday. He was so caught up with his daydream, he didn’t even realize she was talking to him. “I’m sorry what did you say?” He asked with a bashful smile. She shook her head with a gentle laugh, and said “I was just saying you should go get comfortable, I’ll be in here for a while.” He looked at her and gave a soft nod, immediately going to lie down on the couch and continue his daydreaming. For a while, he could hear her gentle hums coming from the kitchen, and he let that lull him into a peaceful sleep where he dreamed of a future where they were together.

A few hours later he was woken up by someone gently shaking his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes, put his glasses on, and when he looked to see who it was, he swore he was still dreaming. She looked almost angelic standing above him with a caring smile and a bowl of something in her hands. “Sorry to wake you, it just hit 4, so I thought you might be hungry,” she gave a soft shrug and looked a bit nervous to see what his reaction might be. He took the bowl from her hands and gave a soft thank you with a smile he hoped was kind, and not some kind of grimace from still being a bit tired. He realized it was baked potato soup and he had to admit it was the best soup he had ever had, “This is amazing, thank you so much.” She gave another shrug and replied “It’s the least I can do, need our best sorcerer and drummer to get better soon! I put the rest in the fridge along with the Alfredo. The snacks are still on your island, but I should get out of your hair now. If you need anything please know I am a call away.” He really didn’t want her to leave just yet so he did something that even shocked him, “Do you want to stay, I’m sure you’re hungry as well and we could watch a movie or something?” Her eyes widened and a bright smile appeared on her face, “I would love to if you really don’t mind.” Of course, he didn’t mind, was she crazy?? If he could he would spend all of his time with her. “I don’t, please you’ve done so much for me today so please stay.” He didn’t mean to sound so needy, but it didn’t seem to deter her. In fact, her smile got brighter and she nodded her head.

They decided on watching Wall-E, it seemed like a good idea at the moment, but now they are both sniffling on the couch. “God who knew a cute robot could turn two adults into an emotional mess?” she said while turning to him, wiping the tears from under her eyes. He looked at her and she was gorgeous he thought. They sat looking in each other’s eyes for a moment and in a flash, their lips were on each other. He doesn’t know who leaned in first, all he knew was her lips were soft and he could feel her breath from her nose. As soon as it started, it was over and he chased her lips when she pulled away. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m so- I’m gonna go. Thank you Bob.” she rushed out, quickly grabbed her stuff, and practically ran from his apartment. He sat there dumbfounded, had he messed it up so quickly? Did she not like him in the same way he did her? He didn’t know, he kept wondering what happened while putting things away, and he fell asleep asking himself what happened.

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A few weeks have passed, and things have gone semi-back to normal. There’s an awkward tension between them every session, every band practice, and the texts from her have stopped outside of letting him know of any changes to the schedule. Natasha could tell something was going on with her backseater, but he wouldn’t budge. He just told her it was nothing and that he was fine. But anyone with any common sense could see he wasn’t fine, he was distracted at work, he didn’t have the band members over for dinner, and he just seemed lost in thoughts every time someone talked to him at Hard Deck. But Natasha wasn’t having it, so she contacted Y/N, she told her Bob was acting strange. Y/N let her know what happened, and that she felt as if the kiss had only happened because Bob was emotional. She also let it slip to Nat that she had been harboring a crush on Bob since they first met, and despite trying to ignore it, it continued to grow. Nat told her the band should perform at the Hard Deck that weekend, and Y/N agreed only if Bob was okay with it. She texted Bob and he decided it was time to overcome the fear of the Dagger Squad knowing he was in a band. If he couldn’t overcome the fear of telling her how he felt, and how the kiss made him feel, then he could at least do this. And so it was set, the group would be performing at the Hard Deck, and Bob let that distract him from whatever else he was feeling at the time.

Saturday finally came, and Bob was a ball of nerves. He was sure the squad wouldn’t be too harsh towards him, but when it came to Hangman, he could never tell. When he arrived at the bar to do sound checks, he saw her again and a bit of his nerves calmed. She looked at him with a gentle but nervous smile “Hey Bob, glad you made it. We’re just gonna run through a few songs, and then we’ll get going with the show. I also brought a new song, it’s not too much but it will be the last song for the night.” He nodded his head, a bit lost in her eyes. He pushed his glasses up a bit and got his drums set up. After sound check, people started filling in the bar. Nat came up to him with a bit of a smirk, “I know about your kiss with Miss Gorgeous Singer up there.” She then lightly punched his arm, “Why wouldn’t you tell me, Bob? This is important information and I thought we were best friends.” She had a faux pout on her lips now and he shrugged, “I don’t know what happened Nat, it was going so well and then she just ran out.” He looked down, twirling his drumsticks, and she realized he was quite upset. She’s guessing the two idiots haven’t even talked about it. “I’m sorry Bob, but hey maybe things will work out after tonight,” she said with a comforting smile. It was at that moment, Jake, Javy, Bradley, and Mickey realized it was their own “Baby on Board” on the drums for tonight.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” Jake said with his usual smirk on his face. “Cut it bagman.” Natasha quickly replied, she realized it was time for the band to start so she gave Bob a final comforting smile, then quickly pushed Jake and the rest of the guys back.

You got on stage and introduced the band. The show started and everything was going well. Bob was keeping up, concentrating hard and using the quick time between songs to push his glasses up his nose. Finally it was time for the new song, and he was a bit nervous, seeing as they hadn’t rehearsed it yet. He heard you clear your throat as you said “Hey y’all, this last song is a new one I wrote about a week ago. Sometimes you just meet someone and realize you will always be there for them no matter what.” With that, you looked back to the group and nodded to let them know it was time to start.

I’m the watermelon slammed into your driveway

Crack me open so I feel the air inside me

Bob stared at her while playing and realized that in someway, she had cracked his introverted shell. She helped him become more comfortable. She even was a huge reason he had a group of people who cared about him, outside of the dagger squad. He quickly looked at Natasha in the crowd, just to see her smirking right at him.

Music boyfriend I’m your yum yum

Call me and I’ll come

Y/N’s words from weeks prior echoed in his head as she sang, “If you need anything please know I am a call away.” And it hit him in this moment that maybe just maybe, she did feel the same way about him.

Am I dreaming or did you just kiss me

You don’t know it but you already miss me

He looked back at her and realized she was looking at him. Singing this song to him. She had a bashful smile on her face, and he could tell she was a nervous.

Fuck the rest of them

Fuck em all

Fuck em all but us

In this moment, everyone else in the bar seemed to fade away. It was just them, and he made the decision to admit what he was feeling after the show. She was breathtaking, and he thinks he may not make it if he doesn’t tell her tonight. She finally turned away in time to sing the last line to the crowd.

Fuck em all but us.

When the song ended, the bar was full of applause, even the squad looked impressed by the show. Bob watched her walk off stage after saying her thank yous, and head for the back deck. He got up to follow but was immediately stopped by the Dagger Squad, they were all patting him on the back and smiling at him. “Didn’t think you had it in you Bob, but that was truly amazing. And it seems as if the singer thinks so too.” Jake said to him with a genuine smile on his face. Natasha pushed Jake out of the way and gave Bob a hug, pulling away she said “Go get her, we’ll all still be here when you get back.” With that Bob gave a quick thank you and rushed toward the back door.

He saw y/n standing there, arms crossed over the railing and head up to the sky. When she heard the door open, she turned her head and she had a sheepish smile on her face. He thought she looked so beautiful, a bit sweaty from the show, the moon as backlighting. Her beauty rivaled that of the ocean. She was gorgeous in every sense of the word.

“You did good tonight Bobby. Thank you for letting us come play here.” She said softly as he made his way over to her. He felt warmth crawl up his neck at the use of his nickname, and he put his hand on his neck as he told her “You were gorgeous tonight.” She gave a soft laugh and bashfully turned her head. Before she could respond he continued talking, “Thank you. For everything. You invited me to this band, not even knowing if I was a good drummer. You texted me daily just to make sure I was doing okay. You made me possibly the best food I’ve had in forever. Don’t tell my ma I said that, she would never let me live it down.” He chuckled while saying that, he took a deep breath in and continued, “You have changed me as a person, so thank you.” She looked back at him, eyes wide, mouth agape. She had tears lining the bottom of her eyes, as she rushed over to hug him. “I’m so sorry I ran out of your apartment that night. I was nervous you were only kissing me because of the emotions from the movie and the tiredness. But that kiss meant everything to me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it or you since it happened.” Her speech was a bit muffled from the way she was pressed to Bob. Now it was his turn to look a bit shocked, he hadn’t even thought about how she might have thought it was all her fault. He held her and said“Darlin’ I think we’ve both been a bit idiotic. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since I met you, and after that night I thought I messed everything up. I truly like you, I think I might even be falling in love with you if I’m honest.” She pulled back a bit and looked him in the eyes for the slightest sign that he could be lying, when she couldn’t find one she put her hand on his neck and pulled his lips to hers. This kiss was different. This kiss held all of the unspoken feelings they’ve both kept bottled up for months. He grabbed her hips and pushed her back against the railing, she opened her mouth to gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside.

She tugged at his hair and he let out a quiet groan. Just as he was making way to pick her up, the loud noise of several nosey aviators cheering burst their bubble. She pulled back and leant her forehead on his chest, shying away a bit. He turned back to see the group smiling, clapping, whooping, and hollering. He turned back towards her and lifted her face up to his, “I’m sorry about them. Also I’m sorry I feel like I’m doing this a bit backwards, but would you like to go out for dinner soon?” He felt a bit nervous asking the question but she just looked at him like he hung all the moon and stars. “Sure, how about we go talk to your friends for a bit, then go pick up some food, and maybe finish what we start at your place?” She asked with a flirty smirk on her face. Yeah she was going to be the death of him.

[jungle-angel]

The Weaving Woman (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Bob’s grandma is an integral part of the family and you wouldn’t have it any other way

Bob’s feet clunked down the stairs, still in his heavy boots and his hands running over his face. He was completely exhausted and wanted nothing more than to relax for just a little while before heading to bed. 

“What Bob? Did ya’ll forget something?” chuckled a familiar voice with an equally familiar Midwestern drawl. 

“Forgot what planet I landed on when the UFO dropped me off, Meemaw,” Bob yawned, flopping onto the couch. 

“Bullshit,” Marty chuckled as she made another stitch in her little knitting project. “Last time I spotted a UFO was when your grandfather came back from Korea.” 

Bob groaned, running his hands over his gummy eyes once again. 

“What’s with you anyways?” Marty asked him. “Ya’ll have been like this for the last three weeks.” 

“It’s everything Meemaw,” Bob answered. “(Y/n)’s on bedrest until the baby comes, Auggie and Patrick are all over the place and Dad’s on bedrest for the next six months until his knee heals.” 

Marty nodded knowingly, but hardly saying a word. “Getting under your skin is it?” 

Bob nodded.

“Sweetheart, I understand,” Marty told him. “Your grandfather and I have been married sixty years and every now and again we still get stressed over the little things.” 

“Really?” 

“Oh yes,” Marty replied. “When he got called for duty in Korea, we had already had three kids and a fourth on the way. I was stressed about how I’d be able to do this, that and five million other things.” 

“How’d you do it?” 

“Had a little help from Mrs. Chang and her mother up the road,” Marty told him. “We’d bitch about our husbands being away and everything else in between.” 

Bob gave it some more thought. Maybe he didn’t have any right to complain after knowing what his grandparents had gone through. “Now I feel bad.” 

“Don’t feel bad for complaining Bob,” Marty assured him, the click of her needles. “We all do it. The last four months, your grandfather wouldn’t stop bitching about the nerve pain in his feet and it ended with me telling him to stick a cork in it or he’ll wake up with a peg leg.” 

Bob laughed. One wouldn’t know it unless they knew her personally, but Marty had a mouth on her that would’ve put a Navy sailor to shame. “Thanks Meemaw,” he said. “I always feel better after we talk.” 

“Oh no worries sweet pea,” she assured him. “I’m always here if you need it.” 

Bob sat up and hugged his grandmother before she kissed his cheek. “Oh,” she said before his eyes shot up to hers. “Two things. Number one, this is for (y/n), it’s all done and just needs the seal of approval. Secondly don’t worry about your grandfather, I gave him one of those special brownies your dad had in the container on his nightstand. I’m pretty sure the nerve pain’s been nipped in the bud.” 

Bob made a face. “Uh, Meemaw......?” 

“Don’t think I don’t know what that is,” she chuckled. “Your grandfather and I lived through the sixties.” 

Bob thanked her and went straight upstairs, her handwork in his own hands and feeling loads better. 

You sat propped up in bed, reading the book that always sat right on your nightstand. “You good Bob?” 

“Yeah,” Bob sighed. “Just a little tired that’s all.” 

“Well,” you said. “Lucky for you, the boys are in bed and it’s just us.” 

Bob smiled and kissed your lips. “By the way,” he said. “Meemaw finished already. This is for you.” 

You gasped when you nearly saw it, a black and white little knit sweater with the little wooden buttons on it and in the corner a little patch in the shape of Jessie from Toy Story. 

“Oh Bob it’s beautiful,” you remarked happily. 

“She said she couldn’t resist,” Bob told you. “She saw the patch at the craft store and said it’d be perfect for when our little princess comes in two weeks.” 

You were happy beyond words and near to tears at the sight of the little sweater. Already Marty had made several blankets, little hats, socks and even a pair of mittens for your daughter who hadn’t yet entered the world, all of them made from soft yarn and wool, each emblazoned with bunnies, horses or even little Peter Rabbit patches, just as she had done for Auggie and Patrick. 

You and Bob kissed again, deeply and lovingly before you laid on your back and he began placing kisses on your large bump. “Hi princess,” he cooed, feeling her tiny little feet kicking from within. “We’re waiting for you. So isn’t great-grandma.” 

You couldn’t wait. Soon there would be a little girl in the family that everyone would be overjoyed to meet and who would be the most loved little girl you had ever met. 

[sometimesanalice]

Oh Christmas Tree

Summary: Bradley’s never been one to look forward to the holidays, that is until he met you. He’s excited to do everything, including getting his very first real Christmas tree.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, allusions to smut. Minors DNI.

Length: 7.2K 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(What was supposed to be a quick fluffy Christmas fic, somehow turned into this, enjoy!)

The atmosphere at the Hard Deck was livelier than usual, the music seemed more upbeat and the voices a little louder. It was the first time in a while that the entire Dagger Squad was together in one place. News of the success of the Uranium Mission traveled fast and had been keeping them busy in the months that had followed.

Things seemed to settle down a bit as the holidays rolled around, some has dispersed home for Thanksgiving while a few others had been given last minute orders to ship out for a short mission. You’d been dying to take Bradley Bradshaw home to meet your parents in person, but he had been one of the few sent away only set to return the day after Thanksgiving.

You’re sitting across from Natasha at a high top near the pool tables in the back of the bar listening to Jake talk about his visit home, while your boyfriend next to you talks animatedly about something related to his latest mission with Bob.

“I shaved off an extra 5 minutes from the last Trot. Turns out I’m in even better shape than I was the last time I was home for Thanksgiving,” Jake brags smugly taking a swig of his beer from his nearly empty bottle.

“Wait, you come from a Turkey Trot family? That explains so much. Please tell me, you guys wear matching Seresin family shirts for it too,” you tease without remorse. “Oh! Or maybe those turkey leg bobble headbands?” 

You hear Bradley snort into his beer as he drops a well-defined arm across your shoulders. He’s wearing one of your favorite Hawaiian shirts from his collection, and you’ve been having a hard time keeping your eyes and hands to yourself.

“Bradshaw! Are you going to let your girl trash talk me like that?” You turn to Bradley to see him smirk with a shrug at Jake’s indignation.

“I mean, if the headband fits,” he replies lifting his bottle up in cheers.

“Darlin’, you wound me. And for the record they don’t match, since we all get to decorate our own with those paints in the little squeeze bottles,” he says pointing his empty bottle at you before turning to Bradley, “And see if I ever save your smug ass again.” He walks away making his way to the bar for another beer.

“Formal petition to change his callsign to Turkey now. Him and Rooster could be the Bird Bros,” Natasha jokes after he’s out of earshot. “What about you, how was your trip home?”

“It was pretty good,” you feel Bradley start playing with the ends of your hair, while he picks his conversation with Bob back up. “Since my sister had the baby, my parents have been leaning into the new grandparent thing pretty hard. So I set to establishing myself as the fun wine aunt, and basically drank cranberry mimosas all day.” You pause to take a sip of your drink, “Which I regretted immediately the next day when my parents decided it was imperative that we all go to their favorite Christmas tree farm as soon as it opened to cut one down together. Baby’s first Christmas all.” You unlock your phone to pull up the folder you made of pictures from the visit, handing over your phone to let her scroll.

“Since they’re flying out to spend Christmas with my sister and her in-laws in Philly, I tried to talk them into an artificial tree. Which is blasphemy where I’m from, I’m pretty sure the state tree is the Douglas Fir. My family takes the tree hunt very seriously, there’s a science to it and everything,” you lean over to swipe past some of the selfies you took to show her the completed tree in your parents sitting room. 

“However, as you can see, my attempt to talk them into the lower maintenance, yet slightly ostentatious, fluffy pink tree of my dreams was met with a hard pass,” you say laughing to yourself.

She swipes backwards a couple times on the pictures. “This one is cute, why didn’t you post this photo?” she asks holding your phone up showing a selfie of you at the tree farm.

“Which one? Let me see,” Bradley requests, his conversation with Bob now abandoned. He’s already leaning into you and reaching across the high top with his large hands to take the phone from Nat.

It was a photo of you that Bradley hadn’t seen before. You were pink nosed wrapped up in cozy looking scarf, surrounded by pine trees and grinning into the camera. And his heart swells at the sight of the image before him. It’s just so you.

“You really look pretty,” he states sincerely. He glances at you briefly to see a hint of a blush spread across your cheeks before turning his gaze back to the picture of you.

He’d known you had been just as eager as he was for to him come home with you to meet your parents in person. You had even concocted a plan that involved him to try and help you get your hands on your Aunt Christine’s corn soufflé recipe.

“My mom has tried to get it for years, and she refuses to share it with anyone!” you’d lamented to him one evening after a couple large glasses of wine. “She always says she’ll email it, but she never does!” You gesture wildly. He loved getting to know all sides of you, but two-drink you was a particular favorite of his.

“Mmm. Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep,” he nodded along in solidarity.

“Exactly, Bradley! You get it!” You take another long, deep sip of your Merlot, your feet tucked under you on his couch. “Me with my wiles and you with your Rooster charisma, I think this might be the year! I’ll set the groundwork and you can lay the ruggedly-handsome-impossibly-sexy-American-hero-thing on thick,” he loved how animated you were getting and he was having a hard time keeping the indulgent smile off of his face. “And she’ll fall right into our trap and release the goods all while thinking she’s staring in her own Hallmark movie.” He knew he would do anything for you, what his girl wants she gets. If that involves some light to heavy flirting with your aunt, so be it. He was getting soufflé recipe for you one way or another.

However, those plans were quickly dashed when he got the mission orders at the last minute. His stomach was in knots when it came time to tell you, but you were quick to put him at ease by reminding him there was always next year. “Plus” you’d said, “it gives us a whole year to craft our Stealthy Soufflé Scheme. Although, maybe we can pop up in May or June? I want to show you all the sights, we can even go hiking! And I’m definitely planning on taking you on a beer tour.”

“That sounds like the perfect trip, Sweetheart. I’d love that. I’ll see about getting a request submitted first thing in the morning,” he was already setting a reminder in his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted at work and forget. He wasn’t going to let you down again.

“Oh. That’s probably one I snapped really quick and forgot to send to Bradley. I was probably already spamming him too much as it was,” you answer in response to Natasha’s question. Even though you knew exactly why that one never made it his inbox.

Since you’d be spending the holiday apart, Bradley had requested that you send him pictures throughout your visit so that he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. You had sent him ones of you at the grocery store with your mom, of you holding your niece, a few silly ones fueled by too many champagne heavy mimosas, and some less family friendly shots of you in bed wearing the deep wine-colored lacy lingerie set you had planned to surprise him with. And then a few without the lingerie set too.

You had known he wouldn’t have the best reception, so you sent them as things happened knowing that he’d respond whenever he could. You just wanted them there waiting for him. However, a few days in was getting hard to know what was too much when all you could see were all your outgoing messages to him.

You had felt yourself getting a little self-conscious and started second guessing the things you sent, like the picture from the tree farm. You didn’t want to go overboard and scare him off or make it seem like you were rubbing his face in all the things he was missing while he was on assignment. You had just wanted him to know that you were thinking about him- which was pretty much all the time.

Turning your head to take him in next to you. He’s sitting there with a soft smile on his face while he is tapping away on your phone. When his phone lights up mere moments later, you realize he’d just sent the image to himself and was now paging through the folder looking for others.

“For being a Communications Specialist, you’re really bad about updating your own social media. That one was definitely worthy of making it to the grid,” Nat announces as she slides off the barstool taking Bob with her to go dominate on one of the pool tables.

Bradley hands you your phone back. “You know, I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm. Or even had a real tree for that matter,” he murmurs a bit ruefully when it’s just the two of you, picking at the label of the bottle Natasha had left behind.

“When I was younger we only ever had a fake tree. And then after my mom passed, everything with Mav, and moving around so much I just kind of didn’t ever want to think about it. I never thought to get anything for myself.” He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “I’m really happy you’re sticking around to show me the ropes this year,” he says earnestly, sounding much lighter than before.

The thought of him fending for himself for so long makes your heart hurt. You lean into him pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy you want to spend the day with me,” you tell him brushing your nose against his as you pull away. 

“I did my good daughter duties, but flying home during the one of busiest days of the year was enough for me. And I wouldn’t want to subject you to the Richardson’s by going to Philly, my parents call them the Dickardson’s for a reason,” making a face that causes him to laugh.

“We’re going to have the best Christmas together, I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else.” This time when you pull him in for another kiss your lips are eager to meet his. The slide of his mouth against yours never fails to make your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You could spend days kissing Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and never want to break for air. It’s only at the sound of someone’s loud wolf whistle that you break apart as you’re brought back the moment.

“You know, I’m still not over the fact that my girlfriend withheld such ‘compelling content’ from me,” he teases, using air quotes the buzzwords he’s heard you say from listening to one too many of your late night zoom meetings.

“It was the last day! You were getting in before me, and I thought you’d want the real deal instead. And to tell the truth, I didn’t know if I was overdoing it. I didn’t want to make you feel left out,” you explain honestly. You’ve always been the type to keep those insecurities to yourself, but you’ve been trying to do better. He makes you feel safe enough to open up without holding back.

“Sweetheart.” He picks up your hand his mustache brushing the back of it as he places a kiss there. “You could never overdo it. Spam away, send me everything. I love getting those pictures, it makes me feel closer to you. But, I do know how you could make it up to me.” As he sends a mischievous wink your way.

You’re hit with a brief vision of you on your knees before him in that wine-colored set he still has yet to see in person. 

“Oh, do you?” You ease off your stool to stand in front of him, his legs automatically widening for you to step in between them.

“Wanna come help me pick out a tree this weekend?” he asks, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to tug you in even closer. “I hear you know a thing or two about picking out the best one,” his eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles broadly at you.

You don’t bother fighting back the grin that takes over your face. “Stick with me, kid,” you say taking his sunglasses from where they rest against his chest and sliding them on, “I won’t lead you astray.” 

Bradley had the best afternoon learning the ins and outs of selecting the perfect tree at the tree lot with you. 

He had found a tree place with a festive name that was about 30 minutes away, it was probably a bit different than what you were used to, but he hoped you’d be happy with the options there. He had even called in advance to make sure they had the specific variety your parents usually got after texting with your dad to find out what he should be looking for.

He had wanted to pick you up from your apartment, but you had insisted on meeting him at his place since you had an early work meeting scheduled in the morning. And had greeted you with a coffee in hand from your favorite shop when you arrived.

He’d even worn the plaid flannel shirt you had bought for him when you were visiting home for the occasion. When he parked the Bronco in the lot, you had giddily exclaimed, “Bradley, look at all the trees! There’s way more than I thought there’d be. It smells like home!” 

Once you were both out of the car you had grabbed his hand threading your fingers between his, and set off like a woman on a mission. He’d felt rather pleased with himself. 

The outdoor speakers were playing the local Christmas radio station and there were rows and rows of trees under a few large white topped tents. He loved how seriously you were taking this, and if he wasn’t already totally enamored with you this would have sealed the deal.

You’d taught him how to determine its freshness, “You have to pull a needle off and see if it bends or snaps. If it snaps then it’s already way too dried out and you’re just purchasing a giant match stick.” 

From there the came the scent test, “Now sniff the tree, you have to get your face in there. The stronger the tree scent the longer it will last.” 

And finally, the aesthetics. 

“I like mine a little girthy and on the fuller side, but that’s all a matter of personal preference. You want some gaps, so that the heavier ornaments can hang better, but not too many. And the top has to be straight, no one wants a lopsided tree topper.”

“That’s not the only thing you like full and girthy,” he couldn’t help but let slip out.

“Bradley, there are children here!” you admonished while looking around wide eyed, but that didn’t stop you from grazing the front of his jeans every chance you got.

So, when he managed to find what you excitedly deemed to be the “absolute most perfect tree!”, he couldn’t help but preen his face feeling a bit warm from the attention and praise you showered him with.

He’d hauled the tree up to the check out where it was bundled while he paid, and then carried it over his shoulder out to the Bronco. You’d trailed behind him carrying the wreath you’d picked out humming along with the music.

“Is there such a thing as a competence kink? Because this,” you had mused gesturing to him tying the tree down in the back, his hands tingling, “is definitely doing it for me.” He had just grinned and shaken his head at you, his face heating up a bit. However, he couldn’t help but flex a bit more for your benefit as he finished up.

And when you made him pull off the road less than 10 minutes later, to indulge in that new self-discovery with your mouth around his cock, well that was very much for his benefit.

Now you’re with him at his place.  You guys had wrangled the perfect tree into the house and had gotten it set up in front of his windows in the living room near the upright piano he had tucked in the corner. He loved the smell that was filling the room and the way you’d lit up once it was in place. If he had his way, you’d be around all the time.

Bradley could hear you singing along to the Christmas album he had picked up that was playing on his Dad’s old record player as you worked on putting together some hot toddies in the kitchen. You had put him on light duty, and he was determined to make it the best-looking thing you’ve ever seen.

He worked going round and round the Christmas tree, the lights all shining merrily. He took his time making sure to wrap and tuck the lights around the branches, the cozy glow filling his chest with warmth.

But the longer he worked the more he was starting to get worried that he was coming down with a bug or something, his face starting to feel slightly feverish. His throat getting thick and uncomfortable.

He’d noticed it earlier at the tree lot, but didn’t want to give it too much thought. The Navy had ruined his Thanksgiving plans with you and he didn’t want to let you down again. He worked to string lights on a few more branches adamant to push through for you. 

“Sweetheart,” he reluctantly called out to you, “I think I might be coming down with something. I’m not feeling too hot, and my throat is kinda scratchy.” The guilt was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach, maybe if he rested now he could keep it from getting too bad.

He turns to see you coming out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs in your hand, your eyes going wide.

He turns back to the tree looking to see if he accidentally fucked something up. It was his first time with a real tree, maybe the lights needed to be strung differently.

“Bradley. Oh my god.”

You had just put the finishing touches on the hot toddies and were already walking out of the kitchen when Bradley had called out to you. Those beverages were quickly abandoned on his coffee table as you propelled yourself towards him.

His face was brightly flushed and his eyes were shade of red that made your own itch in sympathy. You reach up to tug at the collar of the flannel he was wearing to get a better look at the skin of his neck and chest. The scars on his neck were standing out in contrast to his reddened skin.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Even his voice was sounding a bit scratchy. You ignore him in favor for undoing the buttons at the cuff and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, trying to not let yourself get too anxious. “You tryin’ to get me to put these lights up topless like some kind of sexy Santa?”

You shush him as you finally get the sleeve rolled up when your suspicions are confirmed, his thick forearm is absolutely covered in angry looking raised red welts. 

“Oh no. Roos, baby. You’re breaking out.” Already pulling him away from the 7-foot issue occupying the living room and heading towards the kitchen, “I think you have pine tree allergy.” 

He finally looks away from your face and down to his arm, a deep furrow settling over his features, “Oh fuck.” You get him seated at his oval oak dining table grabbing your phone to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, ‘Oh fuck’,” you repeat back to him eyes skimming the information on the page you clicked into.  You’ve always been the type to take charge in a crisis, this would be no different. You’d make sure he’s taken care of the way he needs to be. The way he deserves to be.

“How’s your breathing feel? Is your throat feeling tight or like it’s closing up?” you ask looking up at him.

His red-rimmed honey eyes seem to shift focus like he’s lost in thought for a brief moment.

“Rooster.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, baby,” he says a bit bashfully. “I’m used to being the one levelheaded in stressful situations, but you should see the intensity on your face. I think you coulda been a pilot.”

“Bradley, I’m flattered. Truly,” you’ve learned that he isn’t the type to say things he doesn’t mean and you respect the hell out of what he does. “Although I’m sure there are a few more qualifications I’d have to pass than that,” you reply lightly, petting the back of his hand resting on the table. “But I need you stick with me here. I just need to figure out if we need to get you to the ER or not.”

He nods. “It’s a little thick, but not like it’s going to close up. And really scratchy, ‘s all.”

“Ok, that’s good. That’s good,” you repeat again more to yourself than him. 

You love this man so much, and he deserves the world. This is the last thing you would have wanted for him and his very first, and last, real tree.

You can still hear the record playing in the background as you try not to gnaw on the inside of your cheek working to put your game plan together.

After firing off a quick text to Jake, you quickly pop upstairs to Bradley’s medicine cupboard, hoping that he has some antihistamines tucked away in there. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see the pink box, grabbing it you tear off a couple squares from the silver lined sheet to bring back to him.

He’s still sitting where you left him at the dining table. He’s slumped down in the chair his mouth pulled down at the corners, and you think it’s probably because he’s not feeling the greatest right now. You hand him the meds and a fetch him a glass of water, watching as the tendons of his throat flex as they work to swallow the pills down. The red welts have finally made an appearance there too, and are an angry contrast to his usually golden skin.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, hmm?” You bend down to catch his eyes with your and holding out our hands to him. He nods once taking your smaller hands in his as he lets you pull him up. 

You help him to unbutton and remove the flannel shirt trying to avoid further contact with the hives on his body, not wanting to cause him anymore discomfort. Once his wide chest and arms are uncovered, you work his jeans down his thick thighs leaving him in his tight black boxer briefs. There’s nothing more than you love than being up close with Rooster’s body, but right now you’re on a mission and can’t be distracted by all the skin before you.

While you’re still feeling concerned for him, you can feel your anxiety starting to settle a bit from where it was at earlier. You’ve got a plan, you’ve already checked off a few things, and you’ll be able to take a breath once Bradley is taken care of.

He’s ruining everything with you. First Thanksgiving and now Christmas. 

How the fuck did he not know he was allergic to pine trees? He’s 35, he should known those kinds of things by now. Shouldn’t he?

He is frustrated as fuck laying on top of the king-sized bed in his darkened bedroom, the stinging of the hives on his arms and upper body were driving him crazy. God, his eyes itched and burned. Although, he couldn’t tell if it as from the reaction to the tree or from fighting the sudden urge to cry for the first time in a very long time.

The afternoon was not going as he had envisioned it. He wanted to sing some carols loudly while getting tipsy off hot toddies with you. Dance with you in between hanging ornaments on the tree. Maybe fuck you under the tree if he played his cards right, he wanted to be the one to get your tinsel in a tangle. 

All he had wanted was to make you happy. You weren’t spending Christmas with your family, and he didn’t want you to miss out on anything being in California with him instead. He was really excited about the holiday for the first time in what felt like forever, and it had everything to do with you.

“Do you have any oatmeal here?” You had asked him not too long ago, and it was all he could do to point you in the right direction as the guilt was eating away at him. Once you had found it, you had sent him away to go upstairs to get him further away from the tree. His strong, capable, and pretty girlfriend was left to deal with the mess downstairs without him. 

He could hear the whir of the blender and wondered what you were up to. Sulking at the fact that all he could do is wait for the antihistamines to kick in, and hope that he’d be feeling better soon so that he could help you take care of things.

“Bradley? Baby, are you awake?” You entered the dimly lit room cautiously, approaching him gingerly on the bed and holding a large bowl with something fluffy and powdery looking in it. He hadn’t heard you come up the stairs.

He loved the sound of your voice. He loved it in the morning when it was thick with sleep, how excited you got when you were talking about something you were passionate about, and he especially loved the breathy whispers and words of encouragement from you in his ear late at night when he was moving so deep within you. What he didn’t love was being the reason you were so anxious, that he was at fault for why your tone was so laced with concerned. 

“Yeah,” although he was starting to feel sluggish, “’m still awake.” He felt your cool hands on his face and leaned into your soothing touch, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I’m going to make you an oatmeal bath,” you informed him gesturing to the bowl in your hand. “From what I’ve been reading online that should help calm down the hives, hopefully stop them from spreading anymore.’

“Okay, Sweetheart,” he sighed. He can hear how pitiful he sounds, but right now his girl is the only thing that is making him feel good, and he will do anything you ask of him.

You set about turning the taps on for the large tub in the bathroom, twisting the handles to get the water to come out at the right temperature. Once you were satisfied, you swirled in the oat powder you had made watching as the water turned cloudy, then headed back into the bedroom to get Bradley.

“Let’s get you in the tub so you can soak for a bit, yeah?” He looks so miserable alone stretched out on the bed. “It’s not too hot, and it should help you feel better,” you help him to sit up placing a kiss to the lines of the scars on his cheek trying to comfort him.

Ever the soldier, he dutifully follows you into the bathroom. Once he is stripped of his briefs and comfortably situated in the milky mixture, his eyes flutter closed as he reclines back, leaning his head against the ledge of the tub. You move kneel on the floor next to him running your fingers through his sun-streaked waves.

Your little pocket of peace is disturbed a few minutes later by the ding of your phone.

“Jake just got here,” you announce filling him in on the next part of your plan, “He’s going to help me with the tree.” 

“’posed to be my job,” Bradley sulks making a petulant sound in his throat. You can’t help but let out a gentle tsk while fighting back a small smile at his response.  

“I just want you to relax here and let the oatmeal do its thing. I’m going to get things wrapped up downstairs it shouldn’t take too long, and then I’ll come back to check on you.”

“Mmhm, fine,” he sighs as you press a kiss to his forehead.

You let Jake in and he is quick to jump in taking over by unwinding the lights off from the partially lit tree. He’s even quicker to haul the massive thing out of the house and into the back of his truck, as the new owner of the 7-foot Noble Fir. After the tree is deposited, he heads back in and helps you coil the lights back up so they’re not in a tangled mess on the floor making some light small talk because he can tell your mind is elsewhere. 

On his way out the door he shoots you a cocky salute, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face.  “You can thank my new Trot PR for how quickly I was able to run back to my place after I got your SOS text to get here as quickly as I did, Darlin’,” he drawls. 

You flip him off, but tell him to text you what meals he’d like you to make and bring over later in the week as thanks for his help. And with a quick kiss to his cheek, you shoo him out the door wanting to get back to your boyfriend.

After he leaves, you break out the vacuum and work on getting the needles off the ground before moving on to the laundry. You grab the pile of Bradley’s clothes from the floor in the kitchen where you had left them before stripping down to your underwear, throwing everything in the washer and turning it on to get rid of any potential lingering irritants.

You make you way back upstairs, stopping to slip on one of Bradley’s old UVA t-shirts and grabbing him a loose pair of navy sweatpants, before going in to check on him. He is still there soaking his head tilted back and eyes closed, just as you had left him. Thankfully the hives have seemed to stop their spread leaving his face untouched. His neck, chest, and arms still bearing the brunt of his allergic reaction.

You gently knock on the door to announce your presence, not wanting to startle him. “You ready to come out now, baby?” Before him you had never been a pet name person, but now all you wanted to be a source of comfort in his life. A soft place for him to land.

“Yeah,” he turns his head towards the sound of your voice, “I think I might be getting a bit prune-y, but that felt really good. Thank you, Sweetheart.” He has finally opened his eyes and looking right at you, with a smile small and soft, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You’re trying not to read into it too much, not wanting to let your anxiety get the best of you. You help him up from bath and use the handheld to first shower him off, grabbing a fluffy towel to help gingerly pat him dry. As he bends to pull on the sweatpants you had brought in you turn to rinse out the remaining oatmeal residue from the tub. He presses a kiss to the back of your head as he passes by you to make his way back to the bedroom.

By the time you’re done he has already climbed into bed, the comforter on your side already pulled back as he reaches out for you to get in with him. The white percale sheets you had helped him pick out were cool and luxuriously soft to the touch, and you feel yourself release the breath it felt like you’d been holding since you entered the living room holding those long forgotten hot toddies.

Bradley is quick to lace your fingers together and tuck his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his mustache ticking the soft skin of your throat there. For all of his golden retriever energy, he is soaking up your affection and attention like a lap cat as you slowly rub your free hand up and down his broad back.

However, he’s still entirely too quiet. Your lips press tightly together on their own accord as you begin to think that there’s something more on his mind that he’s not sharing with you than just the effects of the hives and double dose of Benadryl.

You’re about to speak up when he beats you to it, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I just wanted you to feel at home and now I’ve ruined Christmas.” You’ve never heard his voice sound so small.

Oh. Oh no.

“Bradley, please look at me.” 

You lean back a bit as he removes his face from the spot it was tucked into and study his beautiful yet troubled looking eyes. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Please tell me you haven’t been spiraling thinking you’ve ruined anything.” He looks away, and you feel your brows scrunch together.

You cup his cheek in your hand, running your thumb down the cleft of his chin, “I love you so much and we’re going to have such a wonderful Christmas together, a tree is a nonissue here, baby. You matter more to me. I hope you know that.” His gaze finally meets yours and you continue on, “I need you to hear me. You’ve got absolutely nothing to apologize for. Nothing is ruined and nothing that happened today is your fault. Ok?” Nodding your head, needing for him to understand and let go of his misplaced guilt. 

You see the exact moment he absorbs and believes everything you’re saying to him, his shoulders releasing the tension that had gathered there. “Ok, I hear you.” You lean into him to place a tender kiss on his lips. “I love you so much,” he breaths against your mouth.

“I love you too,” you say pressing one more lingering kiss to his lips before encouraging him to settle his head back down again. He reaches for your hand, guiding it to his hair, prompting you to comb your fingers through his curls. 

“Now that we’ve settled that, how are you feeling? What else can I do to help?” 

“You’ve done so much for me,” he murmurs kissing your neck gently. “’M just tired now and want to hold you for a bit. The Benadryl is starting to kick my ass.” He pauses for a moment, “But maybe we can order some pizza, Sweetheart? And put on one of those Christmas movies you like? Y’know the ones where the people live in a town is named something like Tinselville and their dogs fall in love?” He asks his voice sounding a bit boyish and hopeful. 

You can’t help but let out a giggle because, really, his description is not too far off. You can feel his smile against the side of your neck as you turn the tv on.

“You can have whatever you like, handsome boy. Pizza and Oscar quality Christmas content, it is.” You grab your phone unlocking it and opening up to the delivery app, when Bradley plucks it from your hand tossing it to the side and placing his in yours instead.

“Order from mine instead, it’s my turn to take care of you,” he states slinging his arm low over your hip.

You click the button on the side to wake his phone up only to see your face smiling back at you on his lockscreen. Nose bright from the cold, surrounded by trees, and wrapped up in a scarf your mom had loaned to you since you hadn’t brought any practical winter-wear home with you.

It’s the picture that Bradley has sent himself the other night at the bar, and you’re flooded with a rush of affection for the man nestled against you. You notice his wallpaper is still the picture of you and him from this Halloween when you’d surprised everyone by dressing up as him, he’s kissing you squarely on the mouth while grabbing a handful of your ass. It was one of your favorites too.

You’d just finished submitting the order, when a text from Jake comes through, and you roll your eyes.

Those 5th Gens didn’t get you, but you’re taken out by a fucking a Christmas Tree. Would hate to see what one of those tree shaped car fresheners would do to you.

You’re not going to let him come for your boyfriend, even in playful roasting, when you just managed to picked his spirits up. Not tonight, Hangman. And you set to typing your response with your one free hand, the other still carding through Bradley’s curls. 

Listen up, Lieutenant Turkey Trot. I was planning on surprising you with a bottle of that Texas bourbon you like when I swing by with the food later this week, but now that’s up to you. Do with that what you will... xx

Not bothering to wait for a response you hand Bradley back his phone only to see it light up again. “Lieutenant Turkey Trot,” he snorts, “Damn. Hangman apologized. And he says he wants a lasagna and your chicken and dumpling casserole.”

Southern men are too easy. Nothing is as important to them as food and their mamas. You smile smugly to yourself, making a mental note to go to remember to stop by that speciality liquor store by your place.

The food is delivered not too much later, you and Bradley eat in bed the box sitting between you while making fun of the plot of the movie you had turned on. You can tell the Benadryl is staring to win when Bradley’s running commentary tapers and his breathing begins to even out.

“It’s ok to go to sleep, baby.”

“Just resting my eyes, wanna see if they figure out why the poinsettias aren’t blooming.”  

“You should get your rest,” you gently press, “I’ll set record it and you can find out tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna stay the night, right?” He asks sleepily as he concedes and begins to burrow down into his bed.

“Of course. If you want me here, I’ll stay.” Truth be told, you liked his bed better than yours. You’d even went back to the shop where you’d helped Bradley pick out his sheets from and bought the same percale set for your place in an attempt to help you sleep better.

You set an alarm for earlier than you’d like, remembering you have a meeting first thing in the morning. “I might have to leave a bit earlier than usual though,” you mention softly, “Since I’ll need to go to my place before I have to head in to the office.” You hadn’t originally planned on staying over due to your early morning and now you were kicking yourself for not grabbing a few things to keep in your car just in case.

“Yes. Stay,” he murmurs and reaches out to you, wrapping his arm around your midsection and pulling you to his chest. You let your fingers trace lightly down his forearm, feeling the hills and valleys caused by the welts that litter his arm. He lets out a hum of contentment in response, you’re pressed so close to him you can feel the vibrations of the sound from his chest against your back.

You think you’ve finally lost him to sleep when he mumbles already half gone, “Why don’t you keep more things here?” You can feel his warm breath against the back of your neck.

“How much were you thinking? You saying you want to share a drawer with me?” you lightly tease.

“Bring it all,” he sighs, “Want you here.”

The sound of his soft snores filling your ear only a couple minutes later.

You don’t bring up Bradley’s half-asleep musings, you won’t hold him to anything said under the influence of the antihistamines. While the thoughts of moving in and living with Bradley made your heart beat a bit faster, you kept those hopes tucked away just for yourself.

It was now a week after the pine tree debacle, Bradley’s hives were quick to clear up after a couple days and a few oatmeal baths later. Your skin was still reaping the benefits of the oatmeal too after he managed to coax you in with him one evening. 

He had texted you earlier in the day asking for you to swing by his place after work. You knew the door would be unlocked for you, and you let yourself in.

“That you, Sweetheart?” He called out from nearby, you can hear the sounds of some crooner singing in the background.

“Yeah, it’s me." You set your purse and work tote down before bending to undo your heels at the door. “Hey, I was thinking on my way over here, I bet lots of places still have artificial trees left in stock that we could get. I feel like we need a Christmas redo.” You get one off and begin working on the other, “I was planning on getting one to liven up my place too, maybe I can find one of those ostentatious pink ones I tried to talk my parents into getting and fulfill a lifelong dream.” You say that last part with a little laugh.

You finally win the battle against the top buckle of your cute shoe finally kicking it off and wiggling your toes out, “Ooh! Maybe we can go to that cute cocktail bar off 17th afterwards? One of my coworkers was talking about their new seasonal drinks today and it seems festive.”

You fish your phone out of your purse and make your way to the living room, “That is if you didn’t have anything planned.”

Your voice trails off at the end because when you round the corner you find Bradley in his living room looking very proud with a self-satisfied smile on his face already standing next to a Christmas tree.

A very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas tree.

You stand there entirely stunned. The juxtaposition of your tall, handsome naval aviator next to this truly over the top frosted tree has your brain working overtime. The entire room is cast in a dreamy glow from many strands of white lights he had already spun around it.

“I still feel bad that about what happened the other weekend, and I wanted to make it up to you. At the bar, I heard you telling Phoenix that you always wanted a pink tree, so I hope this is similar to what you hand in mind.” He seems to be getting a bit nervous now, since all it seems you can do is just blink at him. He reaches around into his back pocket pulling out a small tube, “I even got some of those scent stick things to tuck in if you-” 

He doesn’t get to finish since you’ve launch yourself at him.

“Bradley!” He catches you easily with one arm as you begin peppering his face with kisses.

His laugher fills the room and his grin lights up his face at your reaction, “Are you happy, Sweetheart?”  

“I’m the happiest! Oh my god! Are you for real?” you exclaim in between kisses. You stop the assault on his face to take it in your hands, “Seriously though, there is nothing to feel bad about. You’re what matters most to me. I mean, yes, I absolutely love this. But you should have what you like too.”

He takes a step back, with you still in his arms and propped up on his hip. He thoughtfully studies the tree in front of you both. “Yep. This is definitely the perfect tree,” he declares proudly, “It’s full and girthy. Has some good gaps, and look at that top. Straight as an arrow. Although we might need to get some more decorations for it, but I got it started.”

You look from him back to the tree puzzled, since you don’t see anything on it aside from the lights. He walks you both closer, and pulls off what looks to be a strand of curling ribbon with a shiny silver object dangling from it from a branch on the tree. 

A key.

He sets you down back on your own two feet, holding you close against his body bringing his forehead to yours. “I meant it, Sweetheart. Bring it all. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here. All the time. With me. You’re the only thing on my list this year, you’re all I want. Will you let me give you more than a drawer?” His honey brown eyes gazing at you hopefully.

You already knew what your response would be even before he pulled that key from off the tree, and the answer must be all over your face because Bradley’s face breaks into a beam as he picks you up and spins you around.

The choice has always been easy with him, it’ll always be a yes.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Causally hyper-fixating over all things TGM at bradshawburner

You can find the prequel to this story here!

Find out what happens during their second Christmas together here!

You can read more of my stories here!

[justabigassnerd]

Mini Mav

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader

Word count - 1,545

Warnings - mention of alcohol, mostly just fluff

Summary - during a game of dogfight football, the Daggers find out their Captain has a little secret

A/N - it's another fic y'all!! I gotta admit this one is probably not the best thing I've written but it's something. I don't think this was gonna be any longer than a short n sweet fic and idk if the story came across all that well but y'know I tried my best. Anyways I'll stop rambling. As per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!

Maverick had decided that the newly formed Dagger Squad needed some time to learn how to work as a team after seeing the tensions between them during training sessions. Especially with the tensions between Hangman and Rooster, Maverick needed to guarantee that the two could have each other’s backs in the air if he chose them both for the mission.

When Dagger Squad arrived at the beach, they grew confused when they saw Maverick and Hondo standing together with footballs in hand and a whistle around Hondo’s neck. When the team questioned what was going on Maverick simply shrugged and split them into two teams, passing the orange ball to Hangman and the blue ball to Rooster.

“This is dogfight football. You’re going to be focusing on offence and defence at the same time.” Maverick starts before explaining the rules. Once the team is ready to play, Hondo initiates the game and both teams begin to pass the balls to their teammates, trying to get the ball to their end of the made-up pitch. Maverick plays for a while but when it gets too much he taps out, throwing his shirt back on as the team groans and teases him for leaving. Maverick notices Penny leaving the Hard Deck as he approaches the beach chair he had set out and waves him over, with Maverick running over.

“Hey Penny.” Maverick grins as Penny smiles back at the aviator.

“Hey, Mav. I’ve got a toddler in the back room who’s just woken up from her nap and is now asking for her daddy.” Penny says, gesturing loosely with her head in the direction of the small back room of the Hard Deck that homed a sofa that you often crashed on for naps while Maverick was having a drink or two at the bar.

“On it.” Maverick says without hesitation and heads through the empty bar to the back room, opening the door quietly and his smile widening when he sees you, his three-year-old daughter rubbing at your eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Maverick says, the smile refusing to leave his face as you light up upon hearing your dad’s voice.

“Daddy!” You exclaim happily, barrelling towards your dad as he scoops you up in his arms. You immediately wrapped your arms around Maverick’s neck and hugged him tightly as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You wanna go out and sit with me on the beach?” Maverick asks, watching as you nod and let him carry you out to the beach chair he had brought.

“Do you want to build some sandcastles, y/n/n?” Maverick asks as he eases himself down into the chair but you simply shake your head, clinging to him. He doesn’t force you to do anything so he just settles down in the seat and smiles lightly as you cling to him, the tiredness clearly still in your system.

Rooster was the first of Dagger Squad to notice. He was jokingly booing a touchdown scored by the opposing team and as he looked in Bob’s direction, he caught a glimpse of Maverick with a kid curled up on his chest. Rooster stopped mid-groan when he noticed, a look of shock and upset covering his face.

“Don’t need to pull a face, Rooster. We’re clearly the better team.” Hangman gloats, lifting his sunglasses to shoot a wink at Rooster but noticing Rooster didn’t shift his gaze to glare at Hangman like he usually would. The rest of the Daggers catch on to Rooster staring and they follow his line of sight to see Maverick whose attention wasn’t on the team but instead on the little girl in his lap.

“Mav’s got a kid?” Payback asks, glancing at Hondo who shrugs.

“His business is his business.” Hondo states simply, lifting the whistle to his mouth to start the game again but the whole squadron begins crossing to Maverick, with Rooster trailing behind awkwardly and hiding behind the group where Maverick couldn’t see him. Maverick didn’t miss the group of aviators crossing to him and immediately knew they’d have questions since he never gave any hints that he was a father.

“You guys have questions, huh?” Maverick says with a slight smirk as he looks up at the aviators as you cling a little tighter to him. He whispers some words of reassurance to you and watches as you settle back against him and even offers the group a smile and a wave.

“We didn’t know you had a kid.” Fanboy states the obvious and Maverick laughs to himself while hugging you a little tighter.

“In all fairness, I never made it obvious I had a kid. But this is y/n.” Maverick says, introducing you to the group and they all say hi to you, all of them instantly smitten with you.

“You married, old timer? Never saw a ring.” Hangman asks, a smirk playing across his lips as Maverick shakes his head.

“Nope, not married. Let’s just say I met a pretty lady a few drinks in and nine months later I have this little monster.” Maverick says, tickling you lightly as you squeal and try to wriggle out of your dad’s grip before he stops. The team figured out what he meant pretty quickly from those words, and they immediately dropped the subject before someone could ask where your mother was.

“How old’s mini Mav?” Phoenix asks with a small smile, glancing down at you and then back up at your dad.

“Three.” Maverick replies, running a hand up and down your back gently.

“Hey! I believe you guys have some team building to be getting on with!” Hondo calls across to the squad, getting their attention as they look at him and then back at Maverick.

“Hondo’s right. Cyclone will already have my ass for having you guys out here instead of training. At least give me something to prove this is worth it.” Maverick says and the team all nod, moving to return to their game. All except for Rooster who remains rooted in place, unable to remove his gaze from you and his godfather. He felt two conflicting emotions at once. He was still angry at Maverick for pulling his papers and setting him back four years. But, in seeing you, he felt upset at himself for cutting Maverick out. Maverick was the only family he had left and Rooster had felt nothing but alone after cutting Maverick out and after his mother died. Seeing you made Rooster see the man who used to carry him around when he was younger because his feet hurt from dancing around to his dad playing ‘Great Balls of Fire’. In seeing you, he saw his dad’s best friend. His Uncle Maverick.

“Bradley…” Maverick starts, unable to form words as he looks at the man standing in front of him.

“Hey, Mav.” Rooster says awkwardly, his hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck, a habit he’d developed in his youth.

“You uhh- you have a kid.” Rooster then says, gesturing loosely in your direction as you wave at him, a grin on your face and clearly oblivious to the tension between the two.

“I do. y/n this Bradley. Bradley, this is y/n.” Maverick says, introducing the two of you, fighting to keep his smile on his face for you.

“Hi, Bradley!” You grin, and Rooster can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, y/n.” Rooster says, unable to stop the smile as he waves at you lightly. After getting the greeting from Rooster, you settle back against Maverick, giggling when he grunts jokingly at your shuffling. Once you’re content, you lie your head against your dad’s chest, right above his heart and cuddle as close as humanly possible.

“Look, Rooster, I am so sorry for-”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Mav. Especially not in front of your daughter. But if you’d let me. I’d like to try and make things better. It may take some time. But I’m willing to try.” Rooster says, struggling to find the right words. He wasn’t ready to fully forgive Maverick for what he did, but Rooster was starting to see him the same way he did growing up. Maverick, respecting Rooster’s wishes, nodded with a small smile. Maverick then turns his attention down to you, his smile growing when he sees you fast asleep on his chest, a fistful of his shirt in your hand as you sleep comfortably against your dad.

“Figured you were still sleepy.” Maverick whispers to you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before redirecting his attention to Rooster.

“We can talk more later. For now, go join the dogfight football. You and Hangman need to learn how to get on.” Maverick says, nodding his head in the direction of the Dagger Squad and Rooster gives a small nod before turning on his heels and heading back over to the team. Maverick watched the team for but a moment before turning his attention back to you, gently brushing the fallen strands of hair away from your face before whispering to your sleeping form.

“I gotta say, kiddo. I think mini Mav is the best nickname you’ve ever been given. It’s sticking around.”

[glittergoblinzz]

Imagine: Being Soap's Younger Sibling AFTER His Death

CW: Ghost being a cold bastard, slight angst, just a dumb drabble

very slight ghoap implication if you squint hard enough

_________________

You're Johnny's younger sister/brother. Shit, you're the youngest child out of the MacTavish children. One day, you get the news that Johnny died in the middle of a mission.

He never introduced you to the boys, never wanted you to be part of what he did. He wanted to protect you, wanted you to have a normal life he never got to have

But no, of course not. You're too stubborn to listen to anyone, even your late older brother. You decide to join up with the SAS shortly after Johnny's passing. The same cousin who had pulled Johnny into the army pulled some strings, and along with your outstanding skills, you got placed into Task Force 141 several years after joining the military.

Price's eyes practically bulge out of his head when Laswell brings you in to introduce you to the team. You look so much like Johnny that it hurts....Got his bright blue eyes and a squeaky clean face that makes you look like you could do no wrong. Obviously, Price is extremely hesitant about letting you join the team with you being Soap's youngest sibling and with how much you look like his late Sergeant. He was worried how the rest of the team would react to you being there, especially Ghost.

Laswell eases his worries just enough to get Price to cave....and soon enough, you're standing in front of what was left of the squad.

You could see the deep pain in Gaz's eyes as he tried playing it off like nothing is wrong. He comes up to you and immediately pulls you into a huge hug....but Ghost? He just stands off to the side. His eyes show nothing but anger and hate in them.

He's furious that you're here. You knew Johnny wouldn't want you here. You were blatantly disrespecting your late brother's wishes and memory all the while not seeming to care.

When you walked over to him to introduce yourself, he didn't say or do anything except stare daggers at you from beneath his balaclava. If looks could kill, you'd be dead a dozen times over. The way your brows furrow when he stays silent...The way you frowned as if offended that he was staying silent....the same exact facial expression down to the slight pout of your bottom lip. It was the same exact expression Johnny would give Ghost whenever the Scot would be annoyed with his best friend.

Ghost, with a slight huff, left the room without saying a single word to you. He would make it his mission to push you away, to make you want to leave and go back to your little farm home in Scotland so you could live the life Johnny wanted for you; not the life you wanted to live. He didn't care if this was what you wanted to do. All he cared about was Johnny. Not you....

____________________________________

I might turn this into something more than just a short drabble, maybe not. If someone wants to pick up the idea then go right ahead. I just had this idea while writing the third part for the Ghoap surrogacy fic and HAD to jot it down but I didn't want the idea to rot in my drafts for MONTHS on end

[daggerspare-standingby]

The Chase - Part 1 | Hangman x Reader

Ok ok so I've had this in my works for a while and I couldnt find the guts to post it but here it is... my Jake x Reader Fic. Thanks to @roosterforme for helping me come up with a name :)

Summary: You've got a summer job bartending at the Hard Deck, and every night the same cocky naval aviator comes to the bar and flirts with you. You don't return his advances, heeding everyone's warnings and deciding to play hard to get, but jealousy creeps in each time he leaves with another tag chaser. Leaving you to your nighttime fantasies.

Jake secretly loves the chase you give him, he leaves with the girls but only for a hot and heavy make out session outside the bar. Since meeting you, and seeing the way his flirtatious advances effect you, or lack thereof, he's not able to get you out of his head. Your sassy attitude makes him weak in the knees, and makes his heart beat a little faster each time you give him a smart remark. There's no doubt in his mind, you're the one for him.

Warnings: none that I can think of in this one, smut for future parts, bar and navy inaccuracies for sure

Pairing: Jake x Bartender!Reader

Word count: 2348..

You had never met a more cocky and arrogant person than Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. From the very first day you met the aviator, he crawled right under your skin with his constant smirk and holier-than-thou attitude. He thought you would simply fawn under his striking green eyes and sparkling white grin. He didn’t expect you to be immune to his advances each night.

When he saw you at the bar the night of your first shift, he was captivated by your long flowing hair and your cute ass in the jean shorts you wore, he sent up a silent thank you for the ac that couldn’t keep up. Then you turned around and he saw the little tank top you were wearing, which showed off a respectable amount of cleavage and he could swear he could pop a gasket right there. You were absolutely beautiful. When you laughed at something one of the patrons said, your smile brightened up the whole bar, he’d stood and admired you, frozen in place (right by the front door to the bar) until Fanboy walked right into his back “hey, watch it Garcia”, Hangman grumbled as he moved to their usual spot by the pool tables. Coyote followed his friend’s gaze, also landing on the pretty new bartender Penny had hired who was singing along to the music playing through the jukebox as she served beverages. “Hangman, let’s go get some beer.” Always the best wingman, Hangman gave him an appreciative nod as they both made their way to the bar, they leaned against it waiting their turn to be approached. 

Each night would be the same song and dance, you would be behind the bar lighting up the dingy floor boards and peeled paint with your smile, Jake and the Dagger Squad as they became affectionately known after their successful mission, would show up after work, order a few rounds and Jake would unsuccessfully flirt with you and try to get your phone number. It irked him that you called everyone by their first names, except for him. You and the squad had developed a friendship like no other, but for Jake, that beautiful smile and long hair was what he wished to see splayed out on his pillow beside him when he woke up. 

He had been flirting with you for months, you’d clocked the aviator a mile away every time he walked into the bar, oozing swagger and confidence. That damn toothpick gripped between those pearly white teeth, which simultaneously drove you mad and made you incredibly horny - especially when he did that thing with his tongue that flipped it around… the first time he did it he was standing at the bar waiting for a drink from Penny, and you couldn't help but check him out, he was attractive, sure you’d give him that. His piercing green eyes meeting yours “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before darlin’,” You straightened slightly, not expecting the attention and having only been hired by Penny a few days ago to help out with the summer shifts “Penny just hired me…” He smiled, “I’m Jake, but they call me Hangman.” Before you could respond, Penny returned with his beers and handed them to him “leave my bartenders alone Hangman” you bit your lip and watched as Jake retreated to the pool tables and his friends, but not before casting you one more glance before starting a pool game. 

He flirted shamelessly with you each time he came to the bar, and you couldn't help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach each time he did. He had done the toothpick trick a couple times and your mind wandered to what else he could with that tongue of his. By the end of your shift, he was long gone, usually with a pretty young thing on his arm, but you were left with thoughts of his steely green eyes, sharp jaw, witty mouth and wicked tongue. You returned to your apartment, shed your clothes and crawled into bed, but you were so keyed up with thoughts of Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin, that your hands wandered down your body, under your sleep shirt, and into your panties, already soaked with arousal. His honeyed voice echoing in your mind, saying your name to get your attention at the bar, the way he winked at you as he added a few more beer to his tab, and imagining that your fingers currently circling your clit was his tongue instead was what had you clenching around nothing and arching off the bed. 

It was the same, night after night. Jake would come to the bar after his shift, his khaki uniform straining over his biceps and making your mouth water and breath catch. He’d wink at you when he placed his order, and flirt with you shamelessly all night. But you’d seen the way he turned on the charm with every girl at the bar, especially when you didn’t reciprocate his advances each night. He eventually left with them each and every night, and the thought crept into your head that maybe everyone was right - Hangman only wanted one thing, and you didn’t want to be another notch on his bed-post. But that didn’t stop you from circling your clit with your fingers each night, shuddering with his name on your lips as you came. 

One Friday, Penny had an additional hand from Jimmy and gave you the night off to enjoy it from the other side of the bar. You sipped your drink sitting at a barstool, when just after 5pm the door opened with a roar of conversation flooding in, Jake followed by the rest of the Dagger Squad. You watched Jake’s eyes scanning the bar and a ghost of a frown touches his lips as he doesn’t see you working. He orders a beer from Penny anyways and your smirk grows, watching him make his way back to the pool table and dart board as the squad normally does. You sit on your stool opposite the bar, observing, the normal swagger and confidence he exudes is still there, especially when he throws a perfect game again, but his smile as he ribs his teammates doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You can’t hear the conversation, but you hear the rest of the team groan at presumably one of his cocky remarks, you nod Penny over and order a round of beers for the aviators, plus one for yourself and head over with the full tray. 

“Rooster, if you fly the way you play pool you’re definitely going to run out of gas. Make the shot man” You set the tray of cold beers down on a high top table and watch Rooster take the shot and scratch. Taking a beer from the tray you approach the group of pilots, “Can I tag in Roos?” Everyone - including Hangman - straightens up at your arrival. Jake’s grip on his pool cue tightens slightly, not enough for you to notice, but enough for Javy to smirk around his bottle as he brings it to his lips, knowing his best friend is hooked and falling real hard for you. Rooster happily hands you his pool cue and takes the beer from you instead “good luck, you’ll need it to beat Hangman.” Your eyes finally meet the blonde pilots “you’re not gonna go too hard on me, right Hangman?” Jake’s eyes softened slightly at your gaze, oh yeah, he was hooked. “Course not darlin’.” He racked the balls again, trying to keep composure and not give away his feelings about you “you’re not working tonight?” You shook your head as you chalked your cue “nope, got the night off. A girl deserves to have fun every now and again, you naval aviators can’t be the only ones.” The Dagger Squad was watching the banter, keeping their conversation low, but with invested interest. Hangman’s signature smirk grew on his face “You can break darlin’” You nodded, rounding the table and laying out the cue ball, lips pursed in a small smile as you bent at the waist eyeing the shot you were about to make, purposely taking your time, making sure he would take full advantage of your ass basically on display.

Jake inhaled deeply, watching you lean over the pool table and willed his mind to think of anything but the inappropriate thoughts that were trying to push in. “You sure you don’t need a hand there sweetheart?” he made sure to add a little extra bravado in his tone, hoping that it would mask the desperation he felt seeping into his bones at how badly he wanted to wrap his body around yours. You cast him a sideways smirk and took the shot, sinking two right off the break. Standing, to move around the table you brushed right against his chest, his scent overwhelmed your senses, sandalwood and cinnamon, but you kept your chin up “you’re in the way of my next shot Hangman.” Jake’s eyebrows raised, almost to his hairline as he steps out of the way, unable to wipe the grin off his face. Finally, someone who could keep up with him.

This was a welcome change to the flow of the usual evening, the light chatter from the squad surrounding you as you and Jake battled it out over a game of pool. He made a smart alec remark just as you took another shot, causing you to misalign and miss slightly, giving him the upper hand. His grin widened, making the corners of his eyes crinkle “Oh darlin’ that’s too bad. Let me show you how a real winner plays.” You stood back, picking up your drink and watching his confidence come back with each shot he made. Just before he sunk the 8 ball, his eyes reached yours “thanks for the challenge sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes watching as the ball sunk into the pocket “they should call you Hangover, you just give me a headache. Sorry I couldn’t take him down a peg, friends.” You handed the cue stick over to Coyote who took it with a small chuckle and you made your way over to the bathroom. 

The rest of the team returned to their conversations, Payback and Fanboy arguing about which Star Trek rerun was better, Phoenix, Bob and Rooster discussing different flight plans but Jake approached Javi watching your retreating form and let out a small sigh “I’m gonna marry that girl.” Javi looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow “you sure about that man?” Jake turned his attention to Javi with a serious expression “yes! name another girl that can keep up with me.” Coyote shrugged “All I’m saying is, if that’s your plan, stop leaving every night with some tag chaser for a heavy petting session.” Jake frowned, his brows knitting in the middle but the look disappeared as quickly as it arrived when you exited the bathroom and were making your way back towards them. 

You needed a break after being in such close proximity to him for so long, bodies brushing each time you passed each other to make another shot, feeling the heat of his gaze on you the entire time, you retreated to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on the back of your neck and on your cheeks. You knew he was going to leave with another girl tonight, why did you still let him get to you? a small voice in your head told you it was because you hoped that he would leave with you tonight, but did you really want to be another conquest? another name on the bathroom stall under his callsign. Another small voice in your heart told you that the two persona’s were different, and Jake wouldn’t treat you that way, but you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, settling on better never than maybe, and made your way back out to the aviators around the back area of the bar. Seeing some of the usual customers you waved and made some casual conversation as you moved through the space, completely unaware of the way his eyes followed your every move. 

What you were also completely unaware of, was the young officer who had had a little too much to drink, was sloshing his beer all over the place, and knocked into you accidentally, causing you to slip on the spilled liquid and as you squeezed your eyes shut bracing for the pain of hitting the floor, you realized that pain never came. The scent hit you before you could open your eyes, but as you did, you were brought back to a standing position by Jake, his hand firmly gripping your upper arm, which loosened once you stood straight and he briefly ran his eyes over you, giving you a once over “are you ok?” You needed to blink a couple times before words could form on your tongue, but when they did, they sounded too breathless “yeah.” He was still holding your arm, it was almost too much, feeling of electricity running through your system stemming from where his calloused hand was touching your arm. You looked back at how far you were from the pool tables and silently wondered how he had gotten over to you so quickly, your ears were buzzing and he was saying something to Penny, who then quickly turned to ring the bell. You recognized the cheer of “Overboard” Jake turned to look at you and you registered that he was talking to you “stay right here, I’m gonna toss this loser out and then I’ll take you home.” You started to protest but he was gone before you could even get the words out. Coyote and Payback assisted him with tossing out the young sailor and then he was back in front of you “I paid your tab, come on.” And that would be the first time you followed Jake out of the Hard Deck, with him holding onto your hand.

—

Tagging some friends who might be interested?

@djs8891 @blue-aconite @midnightmagpiemama @rosiahills22 @hecate-steps-on-me @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @roosterbruiser @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @paigewinchester67 @horseshoegirl @potatothatcanwrite @theharddeck @thedroneranger @hangmandruigandmav

Let me know if you want to be added or removed or if you can think of someone that may like where this is going! I appreciate it <3

x Brina

[worldofheroes]

Date Night

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader

summary: you and rooster go on a date to the hard deck.

warnings: brief alcohol mention, fluffy rooster

wc: 542

a/n: based on this request. A short and sweet (and fluffy) Rooster fic for y’all ❤️

Rooster called you earlier in the day to ask you out for drinks at The Hard Deck. You hesitated, but finally agreed.

Now you’re waiting in your living room, waiting for that blue Bronco to pull into your drive. When it finally does, you jump up and head to the door, leaving and locking it before Rooster comes to a stop.

You hop into his truck. “Hey,” you beam.

“Hey,” Rooster smiles, leaning over and giving you a quick kiss. “Someone’s eager.”

“I’m just excited it’s Friday and you’re done with work for a little.”

Rooster smiles again before he reverses out of your driveway and heads to The Hard Deck.

It’s a short 7 minute drive to the bar from your place. The two of you get out of the Bronco and head in. As soon as you enter, you take Rooster’s hand into yours.

“Rooster! Y/n!” Phoenix calls out from the back.

You smile and lead Rooster to the back to join your friends.

“We already got beers for everyone,” Phoenix nods towards a table with beers on it.

“Thanks Phoenix,” Rooster says, dropping your hand to walk to the table and pick up two beers.

“How are you and Rooster?” Phoenix asks playfully.

You giggle. “So good, Nat. So, so good.”

“Rooster’s been so much happier with you around. I’m glad you two found each other,” she tells you.

You nod.

Rooster comes back with a beer for you.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the beer and taking a drink from it.

“What are you two talking about?” Rooster asks.

“Boys,” Phoenix teases.

“Gross,” Rooster replies in the same teasing tone.

As the night goes on, you and Rooster are glued together.

During a game of pool, Rooster comes up behind you and helps you line up your shot, earning a round of groans and (teasing) comments from the group.

Rooster takes you by the hand later and pulls you to the piano with him, where he plays around on the keys, not making much of anything, just teaching you.

The two of you laugh when you try using both hands to play the piano, only to make a jumbled mess of notes.

“Maybe we’ll stick with one hand,” Rooster says playfully, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I was made to play piano,” you tell him.

“We’ll keep practicing.”

You laugh and give Rooster a kiss.

Later, as the crowd dies down and the Dagger Squad has parted ways, Rooster takes you home.

“I had fun tonight,” he tells you when his car comes to a stop in your driveway once again.

“I did too, Roos,” you say, placing a hand on his leg.

Pause.

“Do you want to stay the night?” you ask.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say with a nod.

“Sure,” he smiles, turning the Bronco off.

You lead him inside and the two of you fall onto the couch, slightly giggly. You cuddle up against Rooster.

“Bradley?” you ask.

“What is it?” he replies, shifting to get a good look at you.

“I love you.”

Rooster smiles and places a kiss on your temple. “I love you too.”