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its-a-ittle-bit-cold · 2 years ago

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Piece by Piece

1.8k

Mitchell!reader x dad!Maverick

series masterlist

my masterlist

a/n: I know, I know. Im starting a new series even though i haven’t finished by hunger games one, my clone wars one or my marauders one. I also have marvel series i started on ao3 that i haven’t updated in literally years.. and don’t even get me started on ted lasso.

I guess inspiration just strikes when it strikes.

anyway, here’s the fic

summary: Arrival to North Island means visiting the nearby Navy Bar, the Hard Deck, which is run by your dear friend Penny Benjamin. Of course, you’re not the only visitor that night.

warnings: verbal abuse, drinking, character death, trauma, unedited

It’s strange, how in just a few hours, your whole life can totally and completely change. In just a few minutes, the strangest things can happen - the worst and the best.

In the span of five minutes, you solidified your top spot in the top gun academy.

In the span of two, you ruined your relationship with your mom.

In the span of one minute and thirty seconds, Your best friend died because of a choice you made.

And within five minutes of that incident, you weren’t too far behind.

In one minute, sifting through a box your stepfather sent you, you find a picture you’ve never seen before: Your mother, wearing a smile you’ve never seen on her face before, wrapped in the arms of a handsome navy pilot, all teeth and jawbone and eyebrows.

And with thirty seconds of your arrival at the Hard Deck, that very same pilot comes waltzing in.

Penny pauses her conversation with you, about how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to, how sorry she is for you, and strikes up a very similar conversation with him.

They have history, you can tell.

Penny taps the counter over the barstool next to you - one of the only ones available in the crowded bar.

It only takes his polite smile to cement it in your head that this is him.

This is your father.

You don’t let anything show through, though. You stir up your shirley temple and smile, introducing yourself as majesty.

“Ah. I’m in the Navy, too, you know. I’ve never met a Majesty before, though.”

“Well, sir, this is a Navy bar… and I was on leave up until just recently. It doesn’t surprise me that you haven’t heard of me, since I was stationed in the Peninsula before , and everything there is pretty hush, hush.”

“Maverick,” he says, smiling again, but genuinely. He holds out his hand and you shake it. “Pleasure to meet you, Majesty.”

“likewise, sir. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I finally see someone I know.”

You bounce off, holding your drink tightly, acting as if your whole life hasn’t just been shaken up by a chance encounter at one of the many Navy bars in North Island.

Approaching the group of other lieutenants, you steal a glance back at him grinning at Penny with the same stupid lovestruck expression that you saw in the photo.

Yep. That’s him.

Maverick watches Majesty’s retreating form before she disappears in a group of rowdy pilots, wondering where he’s heard that name before. Majesty.

He vaguely remembers some news from the peninsula about a year ago, but as the lieutenant had said, the news from there is very limited and very filtered. Something about a pilot whose call sign was Duchess…

“Uh oh.” Penny’s deadpan voice interrupts his thoughts. “You’re thinking. That’s never good.”

She slides him his beer and he laughs softly at her joke.

“You know that pilot- Majesty - well?”

Penny glances over to where she disappeared into the group of pilots. She’s laughing along with the group while playing pool. They watched her take a shot.

The first thing he thinks is, she sucks.

“Yeah.. She’s a nice girl.” Penny starts deftly making a drink with the confidence of someone who’s done it a thousand times. “She watched Amelia for me when we were going through a divorce. Truly a lifesaver for both of us.” Penny meets his eyes. “She’s had a hard life, that one, and she’s not really ever had a reprieve from it, either. It’s good to see her laughing again.”

He sighs, knowing there’s a lot of pilots who joined up to get away from difficult families.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn’t recognize Bradley Bradshaw himself walking in until he walks up to Majesty and plants a kiss on her cheek,

He raises a hand.

“Penny, check, please?”

You’re having a surprisingly fun time at the Hard deck. You haven’t been clubbing since before you were deployed, and certainly not to a bar.

Who would you go with?

but the pilots you’ve met - and the old friends you’re seeing again are nothing but kind. (at least, to you. It’s been five minutes and Rooster and Hangman are already going at it)

Phoenix introduces you to the pilots you don’t know, but there aren’t many. You swim in the same circles as most of them.

You line up a pool shot and slide the stick quickly, aiming the white ball at a general cluster of colored balls, and missing all of them completely.

“Now that,” a cocky voice begins over your left shoulder, “That was an astoundingly awful shot, your highness.”

You turn to face Hangman, who’s significantly taller than you, but you still stare right into his eyes.

“I’ve never played before,” you defend. “And it’s Majesty.”

“Sure it is, darlin’. Lemme show you how to shoot pool.”

You cross your arms.

“Are you going to mansplain eight ball to her, Bagman?” Natasha- Phoenix - juts in.

“Yeah, are you?” You ask, voice intentionally provocative, meant to make him splutter. Frustratingly, he doesn’t, only coolly lines up a shot - making it perfectly.

“No, I’m offering to explain how to play properly, so it’s more fun for the both of us.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice.

Before you can respond with another teasing comment, the music shuts off, making way for a loud, unhappy groan from almost everybody in the bar.

You hear the familiar intro to Rooster’s favorite song, (It’s the only one he learned how to play) and hand the stick off to Bob, whose wide eyes widen even further.

“That’s my cue to leave,” You announce to the group. “I can’t listen to this song for the fifty-thousandth time.”

You blow a kiss to Phoenix and wave to the rest of the pilots, hugging Fanboy, a close friend of yours, and bid adieu to Penny, slipping her a twenty.

“Thanks Penny. See you later, yeah?”

Penny winks at you and waves. You lean into the door and press out into the cool night air, the sound of the ocean suddenly the only sound you can hear - besides Rooster’s muffled voice and piano playing.

You walk around the bar, getting ready to head back to base. The last thing you expect is to meet eyes with Maverick, who looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Sir? Are you okay?”

Your voice startles him out of his daze. He shakes his head slightly.

“Yeah. I’m good.”

His eyes drift to Rooster again through the window, a peculiar expression passing over his face.

“…Well, I’m headed back to base. Have a good night, sir.”

You turn around, hands in your pockets, beginning the short walk back to the barracks.

“Wait. Do you mind if I join you?”

You shake your head ‘no’ and stop to wait for him to catch up with you. How strange is this, the man you just realized was tour father walking with you back to the barracks.

You walk down the beach in silence, watching the waves crash on shore. There’s not much to say.

“Are you here for the mission?” he asks eventually, finally, one of you breaking the silence.

“I.. actually don’t know, sir. They didn’t tell us anything but the fact that we had to be in class tomorrow.”

You meet his eyes, briefly analyzing his face before turning your gaze back to your boots in the sand. There are some features, you suppose, that are similar in your faces. little things, but if he’s your father, you definitely take after your mother.

“So.. yes. Then you must be a damn good pilot. Penny seems to think so.”

You laugh.

“Penny has what I like to call ‘Mom goggles.’ She thinks everything I do is the greatest thing ever.”

It’s his turn to laugh.

“‘Mom goggles’? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Well, you’re not married. Give it time and you’ll figure it out.”

Maverick puts his hands up.

“Hang on. How’d you know I’m not married?”

You gesture to his hand.

“No ring on your finger. And by the way you were shamelessly flirting with Penny literally all night.”

“I was not!”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself.

This could’ve been us.

you clear your throat, looking out over the sea. The sun has fully set, now, and you’re getting close to base. You yawn, covering your mouth.

You turn up the path to the base, in a comfortable silence when the your phone rings. You fumble through your pants, unzipping the pocket where you’ve stashed you phone. It reads one word, one you’ve been dreading.

Mom.

You cast Maverick an apologetic glance and then take the phone call.

“Hey, mom. What’s wrong?” You can hear the resigned sigh in your voice. Captain Mitchell has stopped walking, waiting for you. You shoo him away, not wanting to inconvenience him more.

Your mother’s voice is unintelligible. Staticky and blurred.

“My baby!” she finally says in words you can understand. “Where are you? I came home and looked in your room and you were gone!”

You rub your eyes.

“Mom. You’re drunk. Where’s Kevin?”

Usually, by this point, Kevin, your stepdad would step in.

Maybe, you think, somewhat bitterly, he’s come to his senses and left the crazy lady.

“Out,” is all she says. “You’re not still running around with the Navy, are you?”

She’s says the word Navy like it’s a slur.

“Mom-“

“Because this is just a phase, (y/n). You’ll get over it and realize that I was right all along. You don’t belong on the battlefield, you belong in school.”

“Mom, as a matter of fact, i love my job and i’m not planning on leaving it anytime soon.”

This is a conversation you’ve had many a time. Almost every time she’s drunk she calls you up to criticize your life choices.

“Then you’re a failure.”

“Gosh, I really wonder why I left.”

That’s when you hang up, abruptly cutting off your mother mid sentence.

You make it all the way to the barracks before you angrily start punching things. The nice thing about living on base again is the free gym available to you, so you change into a ratty old shirt and shorts and go down to the officer’s gym, where punching bags are already hanging.

You do a quick job of wrapping your hands, then begin the assault on a bag, sending it swinging with a punch.

You keep going and going and going until your knuckles feel like they’re bleeding or broken or at least bruised, and all the stress and anger with your mother has burned off.

You hit the shower after the gym, then collapse into bed.

Your phone is lit up with four call notifications and twenty six text messages from your mom, which you promptly ignore, silence your phone and fall asleep.

“Duchess, fly away!”

“Get out of there!”

“It’s okay.”

“Majesty!”

Your eyes snap open, your back and arms are covered in sweat. You hold your breath in and let it out, trying to calm your heartbeat.

You glance at the clock.

Jesus Christ, it’s only three in the morning.

This mission can’t come soon enough.

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btw i know nothing about north island or the navy

#top gun maverick #top gun imagine #mitchell! reader #pilot!reader #Dagger squad #natasha trace xreader #the hard deck #rooster x reader #new series #top gun maverick imagine #pete maverick mitchell #maverick x reader

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the-shedevil-writes · 10 days ago

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Polaroids (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: Bob keeps your relationship private, but he doesn't try to hide the dozens of Polaroids of you all over his locker and truck. He has a daily routine of taping his favorite Polaroid of you to his jet's console, but when it goes missing, things get chaotic. Luckily, you're there to make everything better. WORD COUNT: 2.3k WARNINGS: Bob gets angry in this one, folks. Cussing. Fighting. Hangman's an asshole- sorry. MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3

Bob didn’t like talking about his relationship. It’s not that he wasn’t proud of her, or that he felt ashamed. But in fact, the opposite. He’d seen these animals, he’d call co-workers, and how they’d treat girls. Granted, the squadron he was with now wasn’t so bad. Rooster, Hangman, and Fanboy were hard flirts, but they had basic decency. He never felt embarrassed by their behavior when they went out to the bars, and they’d try and pick up a girl. If they were successful, they celebrated. If they weren’t, they’d walk away and move on.

But it was his past experiences with other pilots. Locker room talk always rubbed him the wrong way. He did his best not to judge these guys. He had those thoughts, too, but he had heard too many dehumanizing things said about women he knew and didn’t. So he preferred to keep his gorgeous girlfriend, Y/n, under wraps, even if he did trust his current friends.

They preferred to keep their lives separate anyway. With Bob having his work and friend group, and Y/n having hers. It kept their conversations interesting, as they had their own lives to discuss, not just their shared one.

The Dagger Squad, of course, would try and pry any information out of him. All they knew was that he had a girlfriend. Half the time, they’d forget what her name was because they had never met her, and Bob preferred not to talk about her, for fear they’d ask to see her.

He was surprised they didn’t notice the Polaroids. Taking pictures of his girl was his favorite thing to do besides flying. He wasn’t exactly a photographer. But he made good use out of the instant Polaroid camera she got him for Christmas. It was so much better than taking pictures on his phone because he could hold the memory in his hand. The light and the moment were captured and printed instantly just for him.

They were stuck everywhere. Photos over the years were plastered all over the inside of his locker. In his phone case was a picture of her wearing his glasses. And in the fold-out mirror of his truck was a photo of her taken off guard in the kitchen that she hated, but he loved. The one of her kissing his cheek was usually tucked in the front pocket of his flight suit. They all served as reminders of what he had waiting for him once his shift was over. His best friend and the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life.

His favorite was the photo he taped to his control panel every day. It was a little beat up, naturally, but he made sure to keep that one in the best condition it could be. It was his good luck charm- the first Polaroid he had ever taken of her. It was Christmas morning, and she sat next to the lit tree, in his old Lemoore High School shirt that she had stolen for herself. She hugged the frankly huge teddy bear that he had gotten her. While the lights on the tree sparkled in the photo and cast a golden glow on her smiling face. For some reason, when he had it, the missions went better. The days went by more easily when he got to see his girl’s face after a stressful hiccup in flight.

It had been a long and grueling day flying under the sweltering sun. They had been training for a strike mission, and the dogfighting exercises had left him drenched in sweat, and owing Maverick 200 push-ups. Thanks, Payback, for the BRILLIANT idea. And thanks, Hangman, for doing what he did best- leaving him in the dust and pushing his buttons.

After an almost embarrassing amount of time, he walked back to the locker room with biceps so sore they screamed. He unzipped his flight suit and took his glasses off, using the white shirt underneath to clean the fog and sweat off them. He couldn’t wait to go home and find his girlfriend in her study, working. And he especially couldn’t wait to bug and distract her from all of it.

That’s when the sense of dread hit him, and he realized. He quickly checked all his pockets. Yes, the one of her kissing his cheek was there. But his lucky charm wasn’t in any of the other pockets. He rushed to climb out of his flight suit and scrambled to throw on a random shirt and shorts from his duffel. He couldn’t leave it in the jet. Who knew what maintenance would do if they found it? They’d probably just throw it away.

Throwing on his backpack, he sprinted back down to the hangar. He didn’t even notice the whole squadron standing around talking. He didn’t care. All he wanted was his favorite picture and for this horrible day to be over with.

The sunset shone on his forehead, exacerbating the glistening stress sweat. He quickly climbed the ladder onto the Super Hornet and looked inside the backseat interior. The only place it could be. And when he looked at the spot between the radar and the comms control, he put his face in his hands. It wasn’t there. The memory of the Christmas lights and the bear was missing.

“Fuck.” He said to himself. It was hard to get Bob to curse, but this felt like an appropriate occasion.

Then Hangman’s voice rang out behind him.

“Hey Baby on Board! You sure this isn’t a picture you found on Google?”

Bob’s head whipped back to find Jake Seresin holding the photo. On one hand, he was just grateful that someone had found it. On the other hand, out of all the pilots, he wished so deeply that it wasn’t Hangman.

He quickly climbed down the ladder. “Give me it back, please.” He said exasperated, and walked towards him.

Jake held the photo up so that Bob couldn’t get it. Neither of them was short, but Hangman was just slightly taller.

“I’m not kidding.” He said, trying his best to keep his cool. It took a lot to make Bob angry. He was typically level-headed and able to logically think things through. That’s why he was a WSO Top Gun Graduate, and not necessarily a pilot. But right then, his whole day had been building up inside him, and this was the one thing he didn’t mess around with.

“I just can’t believe that a babe like this is with a guy like you. Really, you should let me call her up.” He said teasingly with a smile. After leaving Bob and Phoenix stranded, AND doing this, Bob was at the end of his rope.

“Hangman, just give him back the photo,” Phoenix voiced with her arms crossed. She and Rooster watched the whole interaction, which just made him feel worse. This was humiliating. It was like they were boys in a school yard- which Bob would say was an apt description of most of the people he had worked with in the past.

He reached up for the photo and finally got a grip on it, but Hangman didn’t let go.

“I just think it’s funny! I wanna look at it. I think there’s more in his locker, too.”

“Just let go, Hangman.” His voice was less whiny and more serious now.

“No!” He grinned.

The two tussled and grabbed at the photo. It felt like a moment that was way too long. Until eventually they each pulled in a different direction, twisting it. It completely bent. Thankfully, it couldn’t rip because of the type of film, but the photo itself was fairly distorted. Bob’s heart beat out of his chest, and it was like his stomach twisted the same way the photo did.

He suddenly let go of the photo and pushed Hangman so hard he stumbled back, surprised. The photo slapped onto the pavement.

“YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE,” Bob said, following after him, ready to beat the shit out of him. Even though at first glance, most people would believe that Hangman would win in a fight between the two. It didn’t quite look it at the moment with the anger in Bob’s eyes and his arms pumped from the earlier push-ups.

Rooster quickly ran over and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back. “HEY HEY HEY!”

Phoenix ran over and did the opposite, pushing her hand against Hangman’s chest, though he didn’t try to move forward. He knew he was in the wrong here, and it was clear by his guilty expression.

“Bob, man, calm down,” Rooster said. They all looked at him, surprised. Timid, awkward Bob was… kinda scary when he was pissed off. His glasses slightly crooked and red in the face. Maybe it was just strange to see him so out of control.

He slowly pushed Rooster off of him and walked over, grabbing the crumpled photo on the ground. After a failed attempt at straightening it out, he put it in his pocket and walked off, steaming.

That night, when he got home, he slammed the door. He was never the type to do that, but he felt so defeated. His duffel bag dropped to the floor uncaringly.

“Bob? Is that you?” Y/n called out from the study.

He sighed, a little relieved. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” He said, his voice almost completely flat. That wasn’t normal. He’d usually meet her in the study, but at the sounds of distress, she quickly came out.

She walked out to find him hanging up his sweatshirt with a depressed look on his face. His usual smile was replaced by a small, tense frown, and his shoulders were high and stiff. Something was very wrong.

“Oh, baby.” She said, walking over, “What’s wrong?” Her voice was so gentle.

He sighed and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I need to shower,” He said, not having gotten the chance to on base. But he still squeezed her, needing the support dearly.

She shook her head against his chest. “What happened?” She knew he was trying to avoid it.

He stepped back and pulled the bent photo out of his pocket. “Hangman happened.”

She gasped at the sight of it in his hand. “Oh no… Is this a man or a dog we’re talking about here?” She asked confused, and that made him laugh a little. He was already so grateful to be home.

“Man. Though he definitely acts like a dog.” He groaned.

She gently took the photo from his hands. “I can try and fix it. Straighten it out. There might be a crease still in it, though.” She tried her best to flatten it out like he did, but to no avail.

He shook his head. “You can try, but I doubt it’ll be okay.”

That answer was so depressing, she looked up and tilted her head. “Hey, we’ll get it back to normal. I’ll look it up. How about you go shower and eat? I made pasta cause I was too lazy to be a real chef tonight.” She tried to lighten the air. “Then you can tell me all about your day.”

He sighed in relief. “You’re too good to me.” He said softly, pulling her in for a much-needed kiss.

And that’s exactly how they ended up sprawled on the couch, each with bowls of penne and vodka sauce. On the coffee table, the photo lay on a piece of wax paper and was buried under some thick fighter jet manuals Bob had.

“It was just like the whole day had been building up in me. Payback’s bet. Hangman leaving me and Phoenix dead in the water. The two hundred push-ups. And the photo going missing in the first place drove me crazy. So when he bent it, I just… exploded a little.” He admitted, almost ashamed to have lost control.

She sighed. “That’s okay. It was natural after all of that.” She reassured gently, reaching for his calf and squeezing it. “This Hangman guy sounds like a real douche.”

“Understatement.” He said, but he was feeling better talking through it all with her. “I just hope that the photo is okay. You know it’s my good luck charm, and if it’s not flat, it won’t stick to my console very well.”

A small smile appeared on her face. “It’s under some of the thickest books I’ve ever seen. If it’s not flattened, then that’s just defying gravity.” She said.

He exhaled again, relaxing, and it was like the tension in him completely dissipated. “You’re right.” He said gently.

“Hey, maybe after today he’ll leave you alone.” She suggested.

He scoffed, “Hangman? I give him less than a week before he starts using you against me.”

She chuckled and set her bowl down so she could lie down against him. “Hmmmm, gotta get you enrolled in anger management classes then.” She teased.

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re funny.” He said sarcastically.

The next morning, he woke up at the crack of dawn per usual. He slowly slipped out of his girlfriend’s grasp, and she whined, half asleep. Their typical routine. He gently leaned down, ran his hand over her hair, and kissed her forehead. “Go back to sleep.” He whispered, and she subconsciously did so.

He got ready in his khaki uniform and walked out to the living room. On the table were the stacks of manuals. He very carefully took them off one by one and set them on the couch to soften the noise. Checking on the Polaroid, he sighed in relief as it was flat again. A small crease was across the middle, but at the very least, it was flat. He turned it around and saw something new. On the plain white back of the photo was a lipstick kiss mark over the folded line. In the tiniest pen was ‘A kiss to make it better’.

And the biggest smile grew on his face. This was better than he could’ve asked for.

Now he didn’t just have a good luck charm, but also a kiss to remember her by.

#bob floyd #lewis pullman #lewis pullman fic #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fic #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction

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geminiwritten · 3 months ago

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emergency contact ; bradley 'rooster' bradshaw

fandom: top gun

pairing: bradley x reader

summary: rooster exploits having you as his emergency contact to get you away from hangman

notes: okay, i am so sorry if this is rushed but i had to get it out before i start my new job (and maybe won't have so much time to write)... i really hope y'all enjoy it!!! please let me know, i really love all kinds of feedback! (p.s. this is also super lame and cheesy but that’s just my genre now)

warnings: swearing, very poor us navy knowledge (i literally just do some very brief googling), very minor and probably inaccurate medical descriptions, text chat screenshots, use of y/n (which is a warning now?), and a kind of rushed ending

word count: 9129

“Damn.” You stop just before stepping into the sun, tipping your head forward so you can see over the frame of your sunglasses. “I should come here more often.”

Fighter jets line the tarmac in two neat rows, and in the middle under the shade of one of the jets are your friends, the dagger squad. They’re all on the ground, half of them in a sit up position and the other half doing push ups. All looking absolutely fine.

Maverick is talking to someone a little off to your right, but you’re more than happy to wait for him while you ogle the pilots performing their punishments. Hondo is standing over the seven of them, counting repetitions loudly and correcting their forms.

“Hey,” Maverick calls, his voice echoing into the hangar.

You turn to see him tuck his helmet under one arm as he walks quickly toward you. “Hey Mav.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I had a day off, so I thought I’d finally get my pre-enrolment sorted out for my DBIDS card.” You hold up the ID badge hanging on a lanyard around your neck. “You’re my sponsor, by the way.”

He frowns. “Aren’t I supposed to be escorting you, then?”

You hike your thumb over your shoulder toward where you’d entered the hangar. “Warlock vouched for me and said he’d get you to take me back to the VCC and sign everything then.”

Maverick glances passed you, giving a short wave to the rear admiral who had stopped to talk to a couple of other officers. “Well then, I better wrap this lot up,” he says. “Are you alright to wait a bit?”

You nod, letting your lips curl into a smirk as your eyes slide back over to the squad. “I am more than happy to wait.”

His gaze follows yours and he chuckles. “They’ll start showing off if they know you’re here. Why don’t you come over and say hello?”

You push the bridge of your sunglasses further up your nose. “I would love to.”

Mav leads the way to the squad, into the sun and across the hot tarmac. It’s unusually warm today, and you can feel your skin start to perspire after only a few steps out from under the hangar’s shade. Or maybe you’re just starting to sweat because of the scene you’re approaching.

You’ve never seen the squad in their flight suits before. You’ve seen pictures and videos, but you’ve never seen them in person. On a hot day. Half unzipped and tied around their waists. As they drip with sweat.

Your eyes find Bradley’s head of tousled golden-brown locks immediately, and your heartrate ratchets up a few notches, your breath catching in your throat. He’s doing push ups, his dog tags touching the concrete on every dip and his back muscles rippling under the black material of his shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.

Your knees almost wobble when you stop beside Maverick, and Jake is the first to notice you as he comes up for his next sit up. “Hey gorgeous,” he calls out, that signature smirk plastered across his flushed face.

“Hey.” You let your eyes wander over the rest of the group before settling back on Bradley. Your sunglasses slide a little further down your nose and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard to try and distract yourself from the way Bradley’s biceps are bulging and straining.

When he glances up at you, your head spins. His face is flushed and his brows furrowed, but there’s still a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “Hey sweetheart.”

“Eyes down, Rooster,” Hondo barks.

Bradley’s head snaps back down, but the next push up he does seems a little firmer and a little lower. Your mouth waters as you trace the outline of his broad shoulders, letting your gaze slide down his back to his butt, lingering there as his muscular body moves up and down.

“Phoenix, you’re done,” Hondo announces, startling you out of your trance.

Natasha lets out a whoosh of air as she finishes her sit ups and falls back against the concrete. She shields her eyes with one hand, squinting toward you and waving her other hand in the air.

You wave back just as Hondo announces, “Hangman, Coyote, you’re done.”

Javy falls back the same way Natasha had, his hands holding his abdomen as he works on catching his breath, but Jake doesn’t stop. He maintains perfect form as he sinks back and sits up, winking at you before lowering himself back again.

Natasha scoffs. “Show off.”

Maverick catches your eye and smirks before taking half a step forward. “What’s your goal here, Hangman? Are you trying to hurt yourself?”

“No sir,” Jake replies, his expression full of steely focus. “Just trying to impress the lady and outlast these chumps.”

Mickey chuckles as he lowers himself into another push up. “Since when is Y/N a lady?”

“Hey!” you exclaim.

Laughter rolls through the squad, and even Hondo cracks a smile as he says, “Bob, you’re done.”

Bob finishes his sit ups with a sigh and wraps his arms around his knees, chuckling softly through his ragged breaths.

You look at Maverick, tipping your chin in Mickey’s direction. “Can I sit on him?”

Mav chuckles. “As much as I'd love to see that, not with Warlock standing twenty feet away.”

You roll your eyes and sigh, turning back to face the group.

“You can sit on me,” Jake says as he rises into another sit up. He lowers himself back with a shit-eating grin before sitting up again. “Later tonight.”

Javy, Mickey, and Reuben snicker as Natasha rolls her eyes, but Bradley stays silent. You can see little droplets of sweat soaking into the concrete below him, and your first thought is ‘what a waste’. Great, you’re officially creepy enough to want to drink his sweat.

“Alright,” Hondo says. “That’s enough, the lot of you.”

Mickey and Reuben groan as they sit back on their haunches and turn their heads up to the sky, breathing in the warm afternoon air, but Bradley keeps going.

“Rooster, Hangman, that’s enough,” Mav says, his voice stern despite the smirk on his lips.

“I can last as long as you can, Bradshaw,” Jake taunts.

Bradley lets out a harsh breath as he pushes himself up again. “That’s not what I’ve heard, Seresin.”

A chorus of ooh’s fills the air as the rest of the squad watch the two stubborn boys, eyes bouncing between them. You have to keep reminding yourself to look over at Jake, to not make it so obvious that half the reason you’re here is to drool over Bradley.

“Come on, boys,” Maverick sighs. “That’s enough.”

Neither of them let up, and Hondo chuckles to himself as he strolls into the hangar.

Maverick clears his throat. “Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Seresin, that is enough.”

They both stop and quickly get to their feet, their faces red and glistening with sweat. You can’t help but wonder if that’s what Bradley would look like after a good few hours of sex. You definitely plan on finding out one day, if you can ever find the courage to make a move.

“No debrief this afternoon,” Maverick announces. “So, unless anyone has anyone questions, you’re all dismissed.”

Bob quickly pipes up with a question about one of the exercises they performed earlier in the day, but you can barely hear the discussion between him and Maverick. Your eyes are all over Bradley, because seeing him in his flight suit is doing something to you, something more than usual. He’s standing wide, those big black boots planted further than shoulder-width apart, making his legs look even longer and more powerful than usual. His arms are crossed, his biceps straining against the black fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt. It’s clinging to every inch of his muscled torso, tucked into the flight suit that is tied around his waist. The gold in his hair is shining beneath the hot sun, his tan skin is glowing with sweat, and his slutty sunglasses are perched a little too low on his nose. This man is walking sex, and it’s becoming a health hazard because you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten how to breathe.

A voice suddenly breaks through your Bradley-induced trance. “Is that okay?”

You blink a couple of times, refocusing on Maverick who is now standing between you and the squad with his eyebrows raised in question. “Is what okay?”

He rolls his eyes, lips quirked into a small but knowing smirk. “I’m just going to have a quick shower before taking you back to the VCC. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” He claps a hand on your shoulder. “You go ahead and get back to that daydream. By the look on your face, it was getting good.”

You scowl at him as he chuckles and walks away, heading in the same direction that Reuben and Mickey are walking. The rest of the squad are still standing in front of you, chatting about something that you assume came up from Bob’s earlier query.

Jake breaks away from the group, stepping toward you with a wide grin. “What brings you out here, gorgeous?”

“Getting my pre-enrolment sorted out,” you reply.

“For a DBIDS card?”

You nod.

“Why do you need to be able to visit unchaperoned?” he asks, that usual cocky glint making his green eyes sparkle. “I’ll gladly be your chaperone whenever you want to visit.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “As much as I would love to be personally escorted by you, Hangman, I thought it would be smart in case I ever need to enact my emergency contact duties.”

He frowns. “Who’s emergency contact are you?”

“That would be me,” Bradley says, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling so wide as you look up at him, but you know your bright red cheeks are already giving you away.

“I thought your emergency contact was Mav?” Jake asks.

“He was,” Bradley replies. “But then I thought that if I’m ever in an emergency situation, there’s probably a good chance that Mav is in that situation with me.”

Jake nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” A beat of silence passes before he turns his attention back to you, that flirty smirk reappearing as he claps his hands together. “Anyway, are we all set for tomorrow?”

“Yep,” you respond. “Are you still sure you want to spend your day off helping me?”

“Of course. Any day with you is a day well spent, whether it involves manual labour or not.”

You asked Jake a few weeks ago to help with the delivery and assembly of your new bedframe and mattress and getting rid of your old stuff, since the last time you did it on your own you nearly ended up in the hospital with a slipped disc. Normally, you would ask Bradley for help with this kind of thing, but your crush has been so stifling the last couple of months that you know it would be counterproductive to have Bradley sweating and moving heavy things in your bedroom. Besides, Jake happens to have the day off because he’s owed an RDO, and he insists that he doesn’t mind helping you out. It’s a win-win situation; you get a new bed, and no one ends up in the hospital with a broken back. Not that you would mind if Bradley broke your back.

“What’s tomorrow?” Bradley asks, his brows pinched into a frown.

“I’m helping her in bed,” Jake replies quickly, his grin downright evil. “I mean, with her bed.”

You roll your eyes at Jake again, before looking up at Bradley. “I’m getting a new bedframe and mattress, remember?”

“Right,” he says, brows still furrowed. “I thought I told you I’d help you with that?”

The way he’s looking down at you is making the butterflies in your stomach riot. He looks like a scolded puppy, wondering what he did wrong to deserve this punishment.

“You did, but Jake has the day off and you’ve already done enough slave labour for me.”

“But I like being your slave,” he says, the corner of his lips tipping up slightly.

It takes all your strength not to groan out loud. He is not making this easy.

“And you will always be my favourite slave, Bradley.” You pat a hand on his chest. “Which is why I need to give you a break every now and then.”

You pull your hand away quickly, immediately regretting the fact that you just felt up his firm chest and damp shirt, because now you’re getting that familiar ache behind your hipbones. The ache that only your vibrator and fantasies of Bradley can satiate, but even that hasn’t been enough lately. You need the real thing.

The sound of your name echoing through the hangar draws your attention, and you look over your shoulder to see Maverick with spikey, wet hair waving you toward him.

“That’s my cue.” You turn back to Jake. “I’ll see you tomorrow, and you”- you look up at Bradley -“on the weekend.”

When you slide out from under Bradley’s arm, it suddenly feels like this very hot day has turned cold. It takes all your strength to keep your feet moving one after the other away from him. You’ve had a crush on Bradley Bradshaw from the moment you first met him, but it’s called a ‘crush’ for a reason, because now it is crushing you. He’s the first thing on your mind when you wake up, and the last name on your lips before you fall asleep.

“Are you alright?” Maverick asks once you reach him, and you know it’s because your cheeks are bright red.

“Yeah, just a bit hot out here.”

He nods as you both start walking toward the door. “It’s supposed to be even hotter tomorrow.”

Back at the Visitor Control Centre, Maverick signs everything he needs to in order to grant you unchaperoned access to the base. After that, he walks you to your car and bids you farewell. You’re more than grateful for your car’s aircon as you take a moment to collect your thoughts, the ones that are running wild with fantasies about Bradley in that damn flight suit.

Eventually, you make your way home and immediately hole yourself up in your room. You spend over an hour in there to trying to satisfy that ache below your belly, but the incessant messages from the group chat popping up on your phone screen make it difficult. Only when your stomach starts to grumble do you give up and head into the kitchen, reading through the messages you’d been trying to ignore.

You hit send on your last message and smack your phone face down on the kitchen counter. Your cheeks are red and your heart is racing, and you’re not hungry anymore because your stomach has twisted itself into one big nervous knot.

You know that whatever it is between you and Bradley is no secret. You assume it’s because you drunkenly confessed to Bob, Mickey, and Natasha one night that you had a huge crush on him, and since then the rest have seemingly caught on. You don’t mind the teasing – at least, you didn’t at first, but it’s becoming more frequent and making you more nervous. Bradley rarely interacts with it, and all you do is tell them to shut up or butt out. You can’t figure out if they’re simply teasing because they can, or if they actually see something between the two of you that is real.

There have been a couple of times when you’ve wondered if Bradley might feel the same way. You even almost made a move once, before chickening out and refusing to look him in the eye for two weeks straight. You know you’re being a little bitch about it, and you hate yourself every day for being like one of those characters in your romance books that pines and pines, despite their broody love interest being obviously smitten. But you still can’t stop yourself from being a chicken. You justify it by telling yourself that it's to protect your friendship and the group’s comfortable dynamic, but you know that deep down, you’re scared. You’re scared that Bradley only wants that one thing, while you’re nothing short of hopelessly in love with the man.

You wake up to the sound of your phone vibrating on your bedside table. You know it’s too early for your alarm and way too early for the delivery driver to be calling you, so you’re not surprised when you see Jake’s goofy contact photo lighting up your phone screen.

“Good morning, Hangman,” you say groggily.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he replies cheerfully. “Did I wake you up?”

You sigh and roll onto your back. “Yes.”

He chuckles. “Oops. How’s about I make it up to you with breakfast?”

You sit up quickly. “You’re already on your way here?”

“Of course.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you mutter, throwing your bed covers back.

“Just the usual?” he asks.

“Make it a double shot.”

You toss your phone onto your bed before hurrying into your ensuite, quickly stripping down as the shower heats up. You brush your teeth in the shower and scrub everything as quickly as you can before wrapping yourself in a towel and starting to pull all the bedding off your mattress. Just as you’ve finished shoving it all into your already overflowing hamper, your apartment intercom buzzes.

You hitch your towel higher as you step out of your room and press the button on the intercom to unlock the lobby door. There’s an affirmative beep and a click, and then you walk toward the front door and double check that your towel is covering you.

As soon as you hear footsteps, you pull the door open with a scowl. “Since when did I tell you to get here at the ass crack of dawn?”

His green eyes widen as he takes you in, that signature smirk painting his features. “I thought it would be good to get an early start, but this”- he nods at you -“is an unexpected bonus.”

You roll your eyes and step aside, allowing him in. He stops at your kitchen bench and places the cup tray of two coffees down alongside a paper bag filled with deliciously greasy smelling breakfast.

“Give me five minutes,” you say, before walking back into your bedroom.

You quickly change into a pair of exercise tights and an oversized shirt – one that you’re not sure even belongs to you – before fixing your hair and doing a very quick version of your morning skincare routine. When you reemerge into the main area of your open-plan apartment, Jake is seated on the lounge with your breakfast laid out across the coffee table.

You flop beside him and take a hashbrown. “So, what’s the plan?”

He turns to you with a frown. “Why do I have to come up with a plan?”

“I wouldn’t need your help if I had a plan, would I?”

He chuckles softly. “I guess not.”

You spend the next five minutes inhaling your breakfast while Jake asks a few logistical questions. Once you're both finished eating and quietly sipping on your coffees, he pushes himself off the lounge and walks toward your bedroom.

He pauses at the door. “Can I go in?”

You nod, and the door squeaks as he nudges it open. He takes one step in and stops, cocking his head thoughtfully before continuing in. He assesses the area and walks further in, at which point you decide to join him. He’s standing on the opposite side of your bed when you get there, and he’s wearing the type of shit-eating grin that you know comes with some sort of teasing or offensive remark.

“So,” he says, “this is where you touch yourself and fantasise about Rooster every night.”

Your stomach drops and you splutter against the lid of your coffee cup, spraying half a mouthful of it across the room. You can feel your face turning red as you cough, but you know it isn’t just the lack of oxygen to blame.

Jake gasps, laughter bubbling from his lips as he rushes around the bed to you. “I’m so sorry,” he says between giggles. “Are you okay?”

You continue to cough, holding a hand against your chest as you try to blink back the tears in your eyes. It takes almost a minute for you to compose yourself, but Jake takes even longer to quell his laughter.

He sighs loudly and wipes the corner of his eye while you turn to him with a scowl. “Who told you?”

He bats his eyes innocently. “Told me what?”

You hesitate, your eyes narrowed as your mind races to send the right words to your lips. “That I might have a small crush on Rooster.”

He snorts a laugh. “No one had to tell me anything. Any idiot who spends enough time with the two of you can clearly see that you’re obsessed with each other.”

“What? No.” Your frown indignantly. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Please.” He rolls his eyes, still chuckling. “I can practically see you cataloguing your spank bank every time you stare at him.”

Your eyes grow wide and your skin burns. You have to look away from him to stop yourself from smacking that smug smile right off his face.

“You know what,” you say, sparing him only a glance. “I don’t think I want to have this conversation with you, so can we please get back to the bed.”

He sighs wistfully. “If only Rooster heard you say that to me. He’d be ropable.”

You roll your eyes and take another sip from your coffee, ready to turn away from him when realisation hits you. “Wait. Is that why you’re always flirting with me, just to piss off Bradley?”

He shrugs, but his smile is sheepish. “I flirt with you because you’re gorgeous, but annoying Rooster is a small plus.”

“You are unbelievable.” You turn on your heel and walk back out of your room, finding your phone on the couch to check if there are any updates on the delivery of your new furniture.

“Hang on a minute.” He follows you into the living space. “I could help you, you know?”

You scoff. “With what? Moving my new bed in? Because that is why you’re here. Not to make me feel shitty about some stupid, unrequited crush that is apparently pretty fucking obvious.”

He rolls his lips to hold back another laugh. “I could help you make a move,” he clarifies. “Because I’ll tell you this, it is not unrequited. Rooster is as crazy about you, as you are him.”

Your heart stutters, but your walls stay up. “How do you know?”

“Just believe me,” he says. “That man’s right forearm is thicker than his left because of you.”

You frown and cock your head, processing his words until the meaning hits you and your mouth pops open.

“Anyway.” He claps his hands and rubs his palms together. “Let’s get this old mattress out of here and start pulling apart the bedframe. I’ll give you some advice while we work.”

For the next few hours, you let Jake tell you what to do. You hold things, you move furniture, you unscrew things, and you listen to his surprisingly sound advice on what to do about Bradley. The more he speaks, the more confident you feel, because something about Jake’s charisma is infectious. You know you might not feel the same when face to face with Bradley’s big brown eyes and pretty smile, but it at least feels good to talk to someone about it. Even if that someone gags every time you start swooning.

- Bradley -

Today is hot, almost too hot. Bradley has pushed his body to the limit before, it’s basically in his job description, but today feels different. He feels sick. His flight suit is too heavy and his muscles are shaking. His stomach is twisting and gurgling with every sharp move, and his head is spinning.

Bradley is only in the sky – flying like a rookie – for an hour before Maverick grounds him, giving him a brutal workout to do while the rest of the squad finish their drills. Even Hondo has taken shelter in the hangar, watching Bradley complete his exercises from afar with a damp towel wrapped around the back of his neck.

The concrete is hot, and Bradley is pretty sure he’s getting second-degree burns on his palms as he pushes himself up into his twenty-fourth burpee. His flight suit is tied around his waist, and he can feel an excess of sweat gathering in the bunched-up material there. His dog tags are jingling as he jumps up and down, occasionally smacking him in the face when his moves are too jerky.

“That’s enough,” Hondo calls out. “Have a break. Drink some water.”

Bradley stops and swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. He can see the squad getting ready to land now, so it must be time for lunch. He waits for them inside the hangar, his heart beating loudly in his chest even after twenty minutes of standing still. Eventually, the group stroll in and head toward the lockers, grabbing their personal items before going to the mess hall.

Bradley finds a seat while everyone else continues to get food. He’s not sure his stomach can handle anything right now, even his water bottle remains untouched. He pulls his phone out and brings up the group chat that has five new messages.

His insides twist at the sight of Jake in your apartment. It’s not like he hasn’t been there before, but he’s never been there alone with you. Bradley clamps his teeth together and wills that sick feeling in his gut to fuck off. This isn’t the time nor the place to vomit about the fact that the girl he likes is spending the day with one of the most charming men he knows.

“You look pale,” Bob says as he puts his tray down on the table.

“But also kind of red,” Natasha adds, a frown pinching her brows. “You look like you’re trying not to hurl.”

Bradley swallows hard and sits up straighter. “I’m fine, just a little wrung out from the heat.”

The rest of the squad join the table and conversation flows easily. A couple of them reply to you in the group chat, but Bradley doesn’t want to know anything else about what’s going on, so he lets his phone buzz face down on the table. He stares straight ahead at the space between Bob and Natasha’s heads, zoning out and imagining a much worse scenario than what is actually happening at your apartment.

He pictures you both sweating and giggling together, bumping into each other as you move and assemble furniture. Then he sees you both on the new mattress, flopping down exhaustedly after finally sliding it onto the new bedframe. You’d stop giggling with a sigh before turning to face one another, locking eyes, expressions turning serious as Jake’s hand comes up to caress your cheek. You would roll onto your side to get closer to him, and he’d only have to move an inch toward you to press his lips against yours. That kiss would unlock something in you, igniting your attraction to this man and making you climb on top of him. Clothes would be torn off, teeth and tongues clashing, and the bed would quickly be broken in.

“Rooster.” Natasha snaps her fingers in front of Bradley’s face.

He blinks a couple of times before refocusing on the woman in front of him. “Huh?”

“Jesus Christ, dude,” she says. “What is wrong with you today?”

Bradley looks to his left and right before spotting the rest of the squad making their way out of the mess hall. He jumps up from his chair. “Shit, that went quick.”

“Well, you were off with the fairies the whole time.”

He tries not to look her in the eye despite her intense stare. The journey back to the hangar is silent, but he can tell Natasha is studying him, scrutinising his expression until they both approach the rest of the group waiting with Maverick.

Mav takes the floor and announces that today is the perfect day to test limits. He starts explaining the workout that he has planned for the squad, because they may have to face extreme heat on their next assignment, and it’s important to be prepared. Everyone groans in protest, even Hondo, but Mav ignores it. He’s almost excited to torture his lieutenants.

An hour later, everyone is absolutely dripping with sweat. All flight suits are at least half off, some discarded entirely as the squad run, jump, and swerve through the makeshift fitness course Mav set up. It feels more like torture than conditioning, but no one has the energy to even speak up.

“Alright,” Mav calls out. “That’s enough. Take a break, have some water, then come inside and take a seat.”

They all slowly drag themselves toward Hondo, who is handing out towels and cold bottles of water. None of them can muster a single word, they all just huff and puff and groan when they wipe their skin with the wet towels. Bradley is the last to approach Hondo, his gaze fixed on the outstretched water bottle as he wonders when the last time it was that he had a drink.

“Rooster.” Hondo takes a step toward the lieutenant. “Are you alright?”

Bradley blinks slowly, looking up as one Hondo turns into two. His surroundings blur and his limbs start to tingle. His head feels heavy and his stomach sinks, his eyes fluttering shut as his body goes limp.

- You -

“Harder,” Jake grunts. “Push harder.”

You let out a puff of air before tensing your muscles and shoving as hard as you can. The mattress slides along the carpet slowly, making your blood boil with frustration. “Why is this thing so fucking heavy?”

Jake chuckles. “I just assumed you bought an extra sturdy one so you and Rooster can fuck as hard as- woah!”

You push with all your strength, sliding the mattress into an unsuspecting Jake. He laughs as he rights himself and guides the mattress further into your room.

“If I knew that annoying you would give you super strength, I would have started earlier,” he says, leaning around the mattress to show you his cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes. “You’ve been annoying me all day.”

“It’s called bonding.”

“Whatever, just get this thing on the frame.”

After a short argument on how you should manoeuvre the mattress, and a string of cuss words as you heave the thing into place, you finally manage to get the mattress sitting snuggly on the new bedframe. You both fall onto it immediately, facing the ceiling as you work to catch your breath.

“Fuck me,” you sigh.

Jake snorts. “I would, but I think Rooster might flay me alive.”

You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time today. “I wasn’t offering, and I’m still on the fence about believing you, so stop it with the constant remarks.”

He rolls onto his stomach, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Then let’s have sex and see what happens?”

You huff out a half-assed laugh as you sit up. “Like I said, Hangman; I wasn’t offering.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. We shouldn’t play with Rooster’s feelings like that.” He rolls onto his back again and blinks slowly at the ceiling.

It makes you feel better to see a small sign of exhaustion from him, because for most of the day, you’ve been wrecked while Jake has been running off some sort of endless energy reserve. He’s like the human personification of a border collie, a little too keen and full of bounce, and you can definitely see him tearing the lounge apart if he’s bored and locked inside.

You open your mouth to tell him how he reminds you of a herding dog when the sound of your phone’s ringtone cuts you off. You frown, wondering who it could be as you rush out of your room to get it off the kitchen bench.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Mariam. I’m calling from the Primary Health Clinic on North Island Naval Air Station. I need to speak with about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

Your stomach sinks so fast and so hard, you feel like it might have fallen right out of your arse. “Is he okay?”

“He’s in our care this afternoon due to a minor incident, and while he’s doing just fine, we cannot permit him to drive himself home. Would you be able to come pick him up?”

You rush over to the coffee table and pick up your car keys. “Of course.”

“That’s great,” the woman replies, her tone calm and even. “I’ll text our address to this number. Do you require any further assistance locating the clinic?”

“No, that should be fine.” You prop your sunglasses on top of your head. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem. We’ll see you soon.”

You pull the phone away from your ear as you hurry back into your room. Jake is sitting up now, his brows furrowed and eyes wide with curiosity. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. Something happened to Bradley and now he’s at some health clinic or something.” You’re not surprised by the panic in your voice, if only a little embarrassed. The woman said he’s fine. The last thing you need to do right now is panic.

Jake stands up and rounds the bed quickly, putting a hand on each of your shoulders. “Don’t freak out, I’m sure he’s okay. He’s at the clinic, not the hospital, so he’s probably just tripped on his own shoelaces or something.”

You let out a breathy laugh as you search Jake’s face for any hint of worry. He doesn’t seem concerned, so you let yourself relax and picture Bradley sitting sheepishly in a hospital bed with nothing more than a papercut.

“They said he can’t drive, so I have to go pick him up.”

Jake nods. “You go. I’ll stay here and clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Go get your damsel in distress.”

You hesitate for a second before throwing your arms around his neck and hugging him. “Thank you.”

He hugs you back with a chuckle before you pull away and practically run out of your apartment. You don’t slow down for anything; you even take the stairs instead of the elevator because you can’t stand still for even a second. You try not to drive like a maniac, but it’s hard not to as your mind swirls with the possibilities of Bradley’s accident.

In less than fifteen minutes, you’re flashing your identification at the front gate and waiting impatiently for them to raise the boom gate. You swerve into the visitor’s parking lot and jump out of your car, legging it toward the health clinic where your phone’s map tells you to go. It only takes a few minutes for you to get there, and you stop a few feet from the door, taking a moment to control your breathing.

The air is thick and the sun blistering. You’re sweating more than you have all day, since you've spent most of the day inside your airconditioned apartment. If Bradley isn’t really hurt, you’re going to actually hurt him for making you worry this much and run in this heat.

Once your breathing feels more regular, you grab the stainless-steel handle and push the door open. The small reception space is painted blue and white, with a couple of plastic chairs on one side and a magazine rack beside a water bubbler on the other. The blonde woman behind the desk peeks up at you through the Perspex shield surrounding her space.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hi.” You step forward. “I got a call about Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

To the right of her desk is a hallway leading further into the building. Voices and footsteps echo off the blue walls, and despite the desolate reception area, it seems like the rest of the clinic is rather busy.

“Yes, that was me.” She smiles. “I’ll just get you to fill this out so we can start his discharge, then I’ll take you through.”

You take the clipboard from her and sit in one of the plastic chairs. You barely read the form, skimming quickly over it before answering the few questions and signing your name at the bottom. After you hand it back it to her, you walk over to the water bubbler and fill up a small plastic cup. You drain it three times before she waves you over and starts walking down the hall.

The noises get louder the further you delve into the building, and you quickly realise that this place is something of a mini hospital for minor emergencies to help keep the actual ER from being overrun. The hallway eventually opens up into a larger waiting area with lemon-coloured walls and bigger chairs occupied by sickly officers. One of them is holding a bloody gauze pressed to the palm of his hand, and two others are paper white and dripping with sweat.

“Heatstroke,” the blonde woman says over her shoulder. “We’ve had so many of them today, but your husband was by far the worst.”

You choke on your breath and trip on nothing as you follow her. “M-My what?”

“Oh, sorry.” She turns to her left at the end of the hall. “I just saw you were listed as Lieutenant Bradshaw’s ‘partner’ and assumed. It’s force of habit. I forget that a lot of couples don’t bother with marriage these days.”

Your mind struggles to catch up, half of it rejoicing about the fact that someone thinks Bradley is your husband, and the other half wondering why the fuck he would list you as his partner. Before you can come up with the words to correct the woman, she stops.

“Just in here.” She pushes the door open a small way. “I’ll get his papers sorted and let you know as soon as he can leave.”

You nod, still speechless, and she walks away. You stand still for a moment, your hand on the door and heart racing as you take one deep breath and push.

The room is small, with powder blue walls and the same white linoleum as the rest of the clinic. There’s a stool and tall portable desk in one corner, and one of those plastic waiting room chairs in the other. In the middle of the room is a hospital bed, but there’s no guard rails or bedding, and it's folded up so the sheepish lieutenant occupying it is sitting up straight.

“Hey,” you say, your lips twitching as you hold back a smirk.

He’s hooked up to an intravenous device that has a long tube connected to a bag of clear liquid. His face is flushed and the hair at his neck damp, but otherwise, he looks just as delicious as usual.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

You close the door behind you before approaching the bed. “How are you?”

He shuffles on the crinkly mattress, making room for you to sit. “Never been better.”

"Want to tell me what happened?” you ask as you sit at the foot of the bed.

He rubs the back of his neck, the pink in his cheeks deepening. “Well, it’s hot day, and I forgot to drink water, so I passed out.”

You lose the battle with your maturity and let out a soft laugh. Something about Bradley looking so defeated in a hospital bed amuses you more than it should. That combined with the relief that he isn’t seriously hurt means that you can’t control the elated laughter forcing its way through your lips.

You cover your mouth to try and stop the noise. “I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I was just really worried and now I’m really relieved.”

He rolls his eyes despite the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m glad my stupidity amuses you.”

“Do the others have a video of you fainting?”

He nudges your thigh with his socked foot. “Even if they do, you’re not seeing it.”

You laugh quietly for another minute, letting your eyes roam is perfectly healthy and incredibly firm body until it sinks in that he is okay. “I’m glad you’re not seriously hurt.”

“Me too. That would have been embarrassing.”

Your mouth pops open to ask him another question, but the thought is quickly usurped by another. The front reception area had been completely empty despite the fact that there are other patients here. You’re the only civilian here, the only emergency contact for an injured officer, and the injured officer in front of you is looking a hell of a lot better than some of the others you’d walked past.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “Did you ask them to call your emergency contact?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, where are the others?” you ask. “Why don’t the guys out there have their parents or partners here to pick them up?”

He shrugs. “They’re probably going to get patched up and sent back to their squads.”

“Exactly.” You narrow your eyes at him. “So, why am I here?”

He shifts nervously, the mattress crinkling beneath his weight. “They said I can’t drive myself home.”

“And you didn’t think to ask one of the other six friends you have that are already on base to drive you home?”

His lips part but no words come out. You can see him struggling, wracking his brain for any sort of excuse, but the longer it takes, the surer you are of the answer to your next question.

“Bradley.”

He looks at you and rolls his lips, his skin turning pink from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Did you tell them to call me so I wouldn’t be alone with Hangman anymore?”

His eyes widen and his mouth pops open, but so does the door to the room. The same blonde woman as before walks in with a nurse close behind.

“Alright, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” she says, clipboard in hand. “You’re just about free to go.”

You quickly hop off the bed as the nurse approaches, pressing yourself against the wall while she removes Bradley’s IV and check his temperature one last time. She gives him what you assume is not the first lecture about staying safe in the heat before declaring him well enough for discharge. The blonde woman then steps forward and asks him to sign a few forms on her clipboard.

“Is that everything?” he asks.

“Almost.” She takes the clipboard from him and flips to the last form before turning to you. “I just need one more signature from you.”

You nod and take the outstretched pen. “Just here?”

“Yep. Just under your name,” she says, before giggling.

You pause mid-signature, turning to her curiously. Her smile vanishes instantly, and she takes half a step back, holding a hand over her mouth, looking thoroughly embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That was so unprofessional,” she says. “It’s been a long day, and I just remembered that when he was brought in, he kept mumbling your name. I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise. I honestly thought it was really sweet.”

Bradley – who is now sitting on the edge of the bed – groans and drops his head into his hands. You have to press your lips together to suppress your laughter, but you can already feel it rattling in your chest. You sign your name quickly and hand the forms back to the woman, who apologises again before exiting the room.

Silence hangs thick and heavy between the two of you as Bradley laces his boots. You don’t speak, you’re not sure you can, so you simply watch him gather his things from across the room. When he’s finished, he finally looks at you with raised brows and flushed cheeks.

“Ready?”

You nod once, pressing your lips together to keep the giggles at bay. He turns toward the door, and you can swear you see his lips tip up into a smirk, but he walks too quickly into the corridor for you to be sure.

You follow him through the building, not the same way you had come in, but out through a different entrance that you assume is for bringing in the injured officers. The heat hits you the second you step out of the building, and you almost choke on the hot air, but you don’t have time to hesitate because Bradley is already forging across the small parking lot.

He glances over his shoulder, but his eyes don’t quite meet yours. “Where did you park?”

“The visitor’s parking near the front gate,” you reply.

He slows his steps and falls into pace beside you. His mouth pops open as a thought flashes across his face, but he closes it just as quickly, rolling his lips and getting lost in his thoughts again.

You decide to help him out. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He clears his throat, keeping his gaze fixed ahead. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, Bradley,” you sigh, a smirk on your lips. “There are so many things to talk about, but I thought I’d be polite and let you choose.”

His resolve cracks and a smile splits across his face. His cheeks are still bright red, and thanks to the blistering sun, every inch of his exposed skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t help but watch the column of his throat as he chuckles, his Adam’s apple moving in the most delicious way. It’s probably not healthy how attracted you are to this man.

“I’d barely been awake for five minutes when they asked me who they should call,” he says. “I was still a little out of it.”

“Right.” You nod slowly. “And because you’d just been dreaming about me, I was the first thing that popped into your head.”

He sighs and tips his head back, squinting up at the clear blue sky. “This has to be the most embarrassing day of my life.”

You bite your lip to hold back more laughter, almost stumbling as you come to a halt at the curb. Instinctively, Bradley grabs your hand and laces his fingers with yours, keeping you steady as he checks the street each way for traffic. Little sparks of lightning rocket up your forearm and across your chest, zapping your heart and kicking it into overdrive.

You let him guide you across the street, expecting him to let go once you’re safely on the other side, but he doesn’t. The butterflies in your stomach flap to life, but you refuse to let your nerves get the better of you. You have too many questions you need answered right now.

You clear your throat, peaking up at him from the corner of your eye. “So, just so we’re clear, calling me had nothing to do with getting me away from Hangman?”

He keeps his gaze fixed ahead. “Of course not.”

“Okay, that’s good.”

You resist the urge to smile as you wait for him to take the bait. It takes a few minutes, and you’ve reached your car by the time you notice his brows scrunch into a frown.

“Wait, what do you mean that’s good?”

You walk around the front of the car toward the driver’s side. “I don’t know, I just felt different today. You know? Like, being alone with Jake was nice.”

His frown turns into a scowl. “It’s Jake now?”

You roll your eyes, being careful not to appear too amused as you play with fire. “Yes, and Jake is really sweet. He’s funny too, and really smart and… well, he’s hot.”

Bradley takes half a step back from the passenger door. “So, you like Hangman now?”

You shrug. “I guess.”

His eyes flick down to his boots, his mouth popping open as if he’s going to argue, but no words come out. His lips clamp shut and the muscles in his jaw jump as he clenches his teeth.

“Do you have a problem with that?” you ask, batting your eyelashes innocently.

When he looks back up, his glare is lethal. The warm honey-brown eyes you often love to stare into are almost completely black beneath his furrowed brows. “Do I have a problem with that?”

You roll your lips and nod, keeping your eyes as wide and innocent as you can while watching him take long strides around the front of the car. Your heart thunders in your chest, making your pulse thump loudly in your ears as he walks right up to you.

He towers over you, his body barely inches from yours. “You know damn well I have a problem with that.”

You look up at him through your lashes, finally letting your lips curl up into a smirk. “Why?”

His hands grab your hips and turn your body so your backside is pressed against the driver’s side door. “You know damn well why.” He presses his body against yours and moves his hands to lean on the car either side of your shoulders, trapping you.

Your head spins and you struggle to breath, overwhelmed by every inch of him that is pressed against you. “Why?” you ask again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He groans and pushes his hips harder into yours before leaning down and catching your lips with his. Your hands grip the sides of his shirt and pull, as if he isn’t already crushing himself against you. When you feel him slide a leg between yours, you gasp, and he takes the chance to push his tongue past your parted lips. You grind down on his thigh and a let out a soft whimper. You can feel him grin against your mouth before lifting his knee a little higher between your legs.

The rest of the world melts away as you grind and moan against each other, completely lost in the feelings you’ve stamped down for so long. Only when you feel your car door begin to bend behind you do you reluctantly put a hand on his chest and push him back.

He frowns as he steps back, looking adorable with lust-blown eyes and puffy red lips. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re about to put a me-sized dent in my car door,” you reply with a soft laugh.

“Oh.” His shoulders relax and he steps back toward you, his hands landing on your hips. “So, you were joking about Hangman, right?”

You roll your eyes, resting your hands on his chest. “Obviously.”

“Good.”

You give him a small smile before letting your eyes drop, panic seeping into your bones as your usual doubts begin to infect your thoughts. Did he only kiss you because he was jealous? Does he want more than friendship, or just a few extra benefits?

“Hey.” He crooks a finger beneath your chin to tilt your head up. “Do you want to know why I’d have a problem if you really did like Hangman?”

You nod as you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down nervously.

“Because then it would’ve been too late for me to tell you that I’m in love you.”

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest. “In love with me?”

His cheeks go from pink to red and he quickly averts his eyes away from yours. “Unless you don’t feel the same, then I’m just in love with you like a friend.”

You roll your eyes again and softly smack his chest. “Don’t be stupid, of course I’m in love with you. I thought it was pretty fucking obvious.”

His lips split into a grin before he dips back down and kisses you again. “Thank God for that,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You giggle as he trails his lips across your cheek, along your jaw, and down your neck. “As much as I love this,” you say, “I would also really love to get out of the heat.”

“Good idea.” He steps back and pulls your body with his, turning a little to the side as leans toward the car and pulls the driver’s door open. “Let’s get back to your apartment and test out that new bed.”

Your knees almost wobble as you step toward the car and drop into the driver’s seat. Bradley is around the car in less than a few seconds, climbing into the passenger’s side and reaching one hand across the centre console to grab your leg.

“Let’s just hope Hangman hasn’t decided to take a nap,” you say as you begin pulling out of the parking spot.

Bradley turns to you with raised brows. “He’s still at your apartment?”

You nod. “He offered to clean up when I left.”

“What if he refuses to leave?”

You shrug one shoulder, your lips tipping up into a smirk. “Then he can join in.”

Bradley’s fingers squeeze hard around your thigh. “Not a fucking chance.”

You giggle when you glance at his stormy expression, but you’d be lying if you said his jealousy wasn’t a bit of a turn on. “You’re not into wife-swapping?” you ask.

He tilts his head, clearly confused. “Wife?”

“Well, yeah. I’m your partner, right? Your emergency contact partner.”

It takes him a few seconds to realise what you mean, but once he does, he drops his head into both hands and sighs loudly. “They told you that?”

You almost feel bad for laughing at him again, but you can’t help it. “The woman called you my husband when I first got there.”

When he looks back up, you’re positive you’ve never seen a more gorgeous boy in the world. His cheeks are bright pink, his honey-brown eyes are sparkling, and he’s grinning so wide you can’t help but grin back at him. “Well, they didn’t really have an option for ‘best friend who I really want to bang and eventually marry one day’.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you’re pretty sure your heart stops. “Marry?”

He turns his attention out the windscreen, still smiling, and his hand returns to its place on your thigh as he says more to himself than you, “One day soon hopefully.”

END.

#bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #rooster #imagine #oneshot #one shot #bradley x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun #fanfic #fanfiction #hangman #jake seresin #miles teller

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starrvsn · 1 month ago

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꒰ ⌕ ꒱ recommended lewis pullman fics! ✧ ੭ pls support these writers !

ROLES: bob ‘robert’ floyd (top gun maverick) rhett abbott (outer range) calvin evans (lesson in chemistry) robert reynolds (thunderbolts*)

✷ includes smut! must 18+ to read! 𝜗𝜚 — my personal fav! — indented text is other recommended fics by the same author!

OVER THE INTERCOM ⠆ i recently got back into reading lewis fics again and its made me realize how amazing these writers are so i thought i would make a rec list out of appreciation as someone who’s been reading ab lewis since 2022 :p

˚⋆𐙚｡ list is regularly updated when i find new fics! & if links aren’t working pls lmk! ⋆𖦹.✧˚

── .✦ also! i may be recommending certain fics but please also check out their blogs! so many of these authors have other amazing pieces just waiting to be read!

BOB FLOYD ⤸

✷ the wingman written by @roosterforme / synopsis: Bob never did this sort of thing. Talking to girls and flirting and romance. It's not that he didn't want to, he just didn't really know how. But you were different in all the right ways, and you made him feel confident enough to try.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ do you wanna make somethin’ out of it written by @theharddeck / synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

⤿ ✷ it’d be a sweet situation a much needed part two! /synopsis: what's better than finding out the WSO you've had a secret crush is the same audio erotica creator that you've been crushing on for months? getting to watch him record new content...and maybe get involved yourself

rodeo written by @sarahsmi13s / synopsis: when your relationship with bob is reveal to the squad, hangman can’t help but wait for bob to stake his claim on you.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from stats written by @attapullman / synopsis: College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

⤿ 𝜗𝜚 ✷ bob from pi kapp / synopsis: First he's late to chapter, and now Bob is late to your Stats final. You saved him a seat. But should you also save one for his hobby horse?

never knew i needed a college!bob au until now and it’s honestly changed my life.

✷ unraveled written by @withahappyrefrain / synopsis: Bob Floyd likes to think he can keep it cool. Then along comes a sundress.

birds of a feather written by @dearsnow / synopsis: phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

the quiet ones written by @callsigns-haze / synopsis: You surprise the Dagger Squad by revealing your secret to Bob, who shyly but lovingly melts into your kiss as the others watch in shock, as shy guys are your type.

fics i read during my bob floyd binge!

✷ rich in life written by @bloatedandalone04 / synopsis: Bob is known to be the shy, quiet and kinder one of out the whole dagger squad, and he didn’t mind the ‘soft’ reputation one bit, because he knew the real him. The version of himself that came out whenever he got his wife alone, which, luckily for him, was every single night.

✷ it's that simple written by @tropes-and-tales

pepper spray lovers written by @moon-fics / synopsis: You're a well-known bartender at the Hard Deck and friends with most of the pilots who enter through the doors. However, you've caught the eye of one specific weapon systems operator.

𝜗𝜚 the plan written by @geminiwritten / synopsis: the squad are all pretty sure that bob has a thing for you, but you're not convinced, so you hatch a plan to tease him within an inch of his life until he snaps

✷ pretend written by @attapullman / synopsis: You aren't sure what's worse: having to share a bed with the boy who was your first boyfriend who you haven't seen in years, or having to pretend he's your boyfriend when you wish he actually was.

this was a reread but come on how can i not add this??

RHETT ABBOTT ⤸

✷ good at makin’ bad decisions written by @attapullman / synopsis: Even a year after you've broken up, after a night of drinking you still end up in Rhett Abbott's bed.

sugar and spice written by @floydsmuse / synopsis: you and rhett start up the tradition of making a gingerbread house together on christmas eve.

✷ odds are stacked written by @sunlightmurdock / synopsis: In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

✷ whisky sour written by @delopsia

𝜗𝜚 ✷ little lambs and big, bad cowboys written by @lewmagoo / synopsis: in which you find yourself entirely at his mercy

𝜗𝜚 ✷ trouble with books written by @hederasgarden / synopsis: You and Rhett discover a surprising new kink together.

CALVIN EVANS ⤸

please please me written by @gaygothiccowboy / synopsis: you persuade Calvin to spend a little less time at the lab and a lot more time with you.

(NEW!) ROBERT REYNOLDS ⤸

dance with me written by @callsign-fox

stay with me written by @scarletmika / synopsis: Bob wants to feel useful, to truly be part of the team, but the others don't think he's ready. You take it upon yourself to teach him control, to guide him through. But mistakes will be made, and it might not be possible to keep the darkness from creeping back in once more

the good side written by @cosmictheo / synopsis: bob loves you so much that he slowly begins to transform into a house-husband for you. and he loves it.

⤷ heavenly / synopsis: it's the first time you're wearing your new suit as an official (new) avenger and bob is a little too excited about it.

sneaking around written by @callsign-swan / synopsis: Bob doesn't mean to be sneaking around. But he can't help it. He's got a secret, and he wants to keep it that way. Too bad he's best friends with Yelena Belova.

𝜗𝜚 honey written by @strkly / synopsis: after being off the grid for a while you return to society and meet up with your old friend bucky barnes. unexpectedly you run into someone you never thought you would see again. your high school boyfriend robert reynolds.

𝜗𝜚 ✷ perv!bob written by @undyingdecay

𝜗𝜚 truth will set your free written by @sergeantbuckybarnes synopsis: You are injected with a truth serum during a mission, and when you return to the Watchtower, you must avoid Bob in order not to spill your feelings for him, but this causes Bob to believe he has done something to upset you

control written by @fireinmoonshot / synopsis: Bob always waits for you to come back from missions, but when you don't come back one day, his powers start to get a little out of hand.

if anything written by @eyelessfaces / synopsis: no one wants to talk about how close you came to dying, everyone walking on eggshells until bob finds out what really happened and asks why no one trusted him enough to tell the truth; you both know the reason involves your mutual feelings.

dreamwalker written by @roanofarcc /synopsis: you use your dreamwalking abilities to try to soothe the storm in bob’s head.

show some loves to the authors ᡣ𐭩 recommendations by jes!

#fanfiction #lewis pullman #lewis pullman imagines #bob floyd #bob floyd imagines #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick #rhett abbott imagines #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott smut #fanfic recs #calvin evans #lessons in chemistry

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moondancediner · 10 months ago

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Love of my Life

summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret

jake seresin x reader

word count: 1490

warnings: no editing, fluff

a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord

song rec: love of my life - harry styles

masterlist

It wasn’t on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jake’s friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect.

Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you weren’t going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting.

And that’s exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him.

You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldn’t be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them.

After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future.

You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldn’t be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it.

“Hello? Anybody home?” A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadn’t realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake.

“Sorry, sorry, got a little lost there.” You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink.

“I’ll say,” she laughed, “I mean, I get it.” Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell.

“Fuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,” you said once the laughter died down.

“Remind me again why he doesn’t tell them about you?”

“It started off as a joke,” you start, “he wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now it’s just an ongoing bet we have.”

“A bet I am about to win, by the way.” Jake suddenly appears behind you and you’re happy to see him until his words sink in.

“You’re not allowed to interfere!” You point at him and he just laughs.

“No interference, I promise.” He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time.

“Well, what are you doing over here then?”

“See now, that’s where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,” he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, “and they bet me $20 that I couldn’t walk over here and get your phone number.”

“Hmmm, seems like fair play to me.” Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband.

A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jake’s lap.

“Did none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?” You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. It’s impossible not to. “Don’t try to distract me, you’re in trouble.”

“Come on darlin’,” His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on.

“When did this song get added to the jukebox?”

“I may have put in a special request.” His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought.

The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds.

“After you, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew.

Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet someone,” he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, “this is my wife.” He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to.

“Wife?” Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.”

You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you all.”

There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. “You’ve been holding out on us, Bagman!”

“Yeah, what the hell, man!” Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s not all Jake’s fault,” You come to his defense, “we had a bet going, which I just lost.”

“What bet did you two have?” Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly.

You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. “We wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.”

“You… you don’t wear a wedding ring?” Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up.

Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day.

Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near.

“So, what’s the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?” Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her.

Jake pretended to be offended. “I’m not that wild.”

You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin family’s backyard three summers ago.

When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. “Welcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.”

Jake couldn’t help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight.

---

thanks for reading ily

Requests are open 🫶🏻

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #hangman #seresin #top gun #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #reader insert #top gun x reader #fanfic #top gun fanfic #fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfic #glen powell #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #Jake hangman Seresin

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callsigns-haze · 7 months ago

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The quiet ones

Summary: You surprise the Dagger Squad by revealing your secret to Bob, who shyly but lovingly melts into your kiss as the others watch in shock, as shy guys are your type.

Chapter Warning: Secret relationship reveal, unexpected PDA, and flustered teammates, drinking.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x reader

The sun is barely up, casting a soft glow over the empty beach outside The Hard Deck as you pull open the doors and step into the familiar dimness of the bar.

You've been doing this for years—unlocking before the heat of the day sets in, setting up stools, and sliding glasses onto the shelves with the smooth rhythm you've perfected. Today feels the same, but something in the air hints it won't be an ordinary shift. There's a buzz, the sort that comes with Navy missions brewing, whispered over drinks in tones low enough that only bartenders know how to hear.

You're wiping down the bar when the door creaks open. You look up and spot a guy with dark-rimmed glasses, a touch of shyness evident in the way he stands at the door, scanning the place like he’s about to get reprimanded just for being here early. He's tall but sort of unassuming, a guy who'd rather fade into the background. He's a contrast to the pilots who usually come in loud, all bravado and swagger. You recognize him instantly: Bob, the quiet one who stands at the edges of the Dagger Squad.

As he approaches, you give him a slow, easy smile and cross your arms, leaning back. "Hey there. Early start for you guys?"

He swallows hard, adjusting his glasses. “Uh…yeah. Just…getting a round for the squad.” His voice is barely audible, like he’s half-hoping you’ll mishear and let him walk away without much fuss.

Your eyes flick over him, taking in his nervous fidgeting. It’s endearing, really, the way he seems like he'd rather be anywhere but standing across from you. And maybe it’s because he's the polar opposite of the loud types, but you can’t help teasing him a little.

“So…who’s in charge of this little mission?” you ask, setting down a few glasses with a subtle clink.

He hesitates, caught off guard by the question. “Uh…Admiral Simpson.”

You chuckle. “Beau? That's my uncle."

Bob's eyes widen, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he stammers out a response. "Oh. Uh, wow. I… I didn’t know." The faintest blush creeps up his cheeks, and he looks down, almost embarrassed to be caught off guard like that.

You can’t resist needling him just a bit more, leaning in just close enough to watch him fluster. You know the effect you have—the low neckline of your top, the tattoos trailing down your arm, the glint of your piercings just visible through the thin fabric. He’s doing his best not to stare, but his eyes flick down for a split second before he yanks his gaze back up, his face turning redder by the second.

“Don’t worry,” you say with a smirk, letting your fingers trace the rim of a glass, “your secret’s safe with me.”

“Uh…thanks. I just—um, I’ll take…uh, the round,” he manages, his voice catching as you pour the drinks.

You can see his struggle—the way he wants to say something, but every time he opens his mouth, he clams up. He's never met anyone like you before, that’s obvious. The confidence, the tattoos, the piercings peeking through the fabric—it all ties together into something that leaves him completely off balance. And he’s… well, adorable.

As you slide the last glass across the bar to him, you give him a wink. “See you around, Bob. Bring your friends by sometime.”

He mutters a quiet “thank you” and shuffles out, beers in hand and cheeks flushed. And as he heads out the door, you can't help but grin to yourself, wondering if he’ll find the nerve to say more next time.

---

It’s a typical night at The Hard Deck, the bar buzzing with energy, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and rock music blaring from the jukebox. The place is packed with Navy types, just as it always is when there’s no active mission holding them back. You’re behind the bar, quick on your feet, sliding drinks to customers and catching up with the regulars. Then, through the crowd, you spot him.

Hangman strides up to the bar with that cocky swagger he’s famous for. Tall, blond, and all confidence, he’s got a grin that could charm the devil himself. And he knows it. Tonight, he’s dressed in his usual off-duty look—just tight enough T-shirt and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the guy who doesn’t take “no” for an answer. But that’s the game he plays, and tonight you’re ready for him.

“Evening, sweetheart,” he drawls, leaning across the bar just a little too close. “Thought you’d be closed by now.”

You raise an eyebrow, resting your hands on the bar and meeting his gaze without flinching. “Well, I thought you’d be up in the air by now,” you shoot back, your tone teasing. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He chuckles, clearly delighted by the challenge. “All right, you got me there,” he says, glancing around. “But I’ve got a list for you. The squad’s thirsty tonight.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” you say, pulling out a row of glasses, ready to work but giving him your full attention.

He leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. “Well, let’s start with two beers for Phoenix and Bob. Can’t have ‘em dehydrating, right?” There’s a slight pause, and he gives you a smirk, his gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary. “Make sure Bob’s is extra cold—he’s, uh, still cooling off after the last time you talked to him.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you start on the beers. “Don’t tell me he’s still flustered from that., it's been years.”

“Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance with you around, no matter the time,” Hangman says with a wink. “But hey, he’ll survive. Next up, Coyote wants a whiskey—neat. You know how he is. And Rooster…” He pauses, rolling his eyes in that way he does whenever he brings up Rooster. “Rooster’s a beer guy, as usual. But let’s give him the lighter stuff. Don’t want him trying to prove anything tonight.”

You slide the beers across to him, already pouring the whiskey as he keeps going. “And what about you, Hangman?” you ask, tossing him a smirk. “Anything special, or do you just want a mirror to stare into?”

He laughs, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Ouch, darlin’. That one stings.” He places a hand over his heart, feigning offense before letting his gaze flick down to the line of tattoos trailing up your arm, then back to meet your eyes with a mischievous glint. “But as long as you’re the one serving, I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

You pour him a whiskey, sliding it over the bar with a raised brow. “Think you can handle it?”

He picks up the glass, holding it up to you with that easy, confident grin. “Oh, I can handle a lot more than that. But I like a bartender who can keep me on my toes.” He takes a sip, never breaking eye contact, letting the moment hang in the air.

The bar is still loud around you, but there’s a beat where it’s just you and him, his gaze heavy and flirtatious, yours daring him to keep going. He leans in a little closer, his voice a quiet murmur. “You know, we should get a drink somewhere else sometime. Just you and me.”

You lean back, letting a slow smile spread across your face, but truly this guy is not for you. “Oh, is that an invitation?”

“Consider it an open one,” he replies, giving you a wink before stepping back to gather up the drinks. “But hey, don’t take too long thinking it over. I don’t like waiting.”

It’s been a busy night, the bar still packed as the crowd buzzes with the kind of energy that only comes when there’s no telling when the next mission will roll around. You’re behind the bar, catching your breath after that last round, when you catch sight of Rooster winding his way through the crowd, headed straight for you.

He’s wearing his usual laid-back style—well-worn jeans, a vintage band T-shirt, and that aviator jacket slung over his shoulders. He looks like something out of a different time, especially with those sunglasses perched up in his curls, even though it’s night. Rooster always has this quiet, steady confidence, like he knows he doesn’t need to announce himself. And there’s something a little different in his step as he approaches you, maybe a touch of playfulness in the way he’s looking at you, a half-smile already curving on his lips.

“Hey, bartender,” he says, leaning onto the bar with an easy grin. “I’m back for the squad’s refills, but this time I think we’re changing things up.”

“Oh yeah?” You give him an amused look, resting your hands on the bar and leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Guessing Hangman finally realized he can order something other than whiskey?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, Hangman’s hard to change. But the rest of us? We’re open to suggestions. Figured you might know what we need better than we do.”

You raise a brow, sensing the tease in his tone. “Oh, so now I’m in charge of drinks? Guess I must be moving up in the world.”

“Better believe it.” He flashes you a quick grin. “But you still gotta keep me entertained while you’re at it.”

You laugh, reaching for a row of glasses. “Let me see… Something tells me you could handle a little extra kick tonight.” You pour a round of tequila for Phoenix and Coyote, grabbing lime wedges and a sprinkle of salt for the rims.

“Tequila for Phoenix and Coyote,” you announce, lining them up. “And… let’s do something different for Bob. A Moscow Mule might be more his speed—something smooth but not too strong, I know he likes it.”

“Perfect,” Rooster nods, his eyes catching on the way your hands move as you pour, clearly fascinated. “And what do you recommend for me?”

“Hmm,” you say, pretending to consider as you tilt your head, catching his gaze. “Something with a bit of bite, I think. Something… classic.”

You reach for the whiskey, but instead of neat, you add a twist of orange, pouring a well-balanced Old Fashioned. You slide it over to him, catching his eye with a smirk. “Think you’re ready for that?”

He picks up the glass, turning it slowly in his hand, that same lazy smile lingering on his face. “Only if you’re ready to join me for one sometime,” he says, his voice low enough to make sure you catch the hint. He takes a sip, and his gaze stays fixed on you, watching your reaction, clearly testing the waters.

You raise an eyebrow, not about to let him off easy. “And what makes you think I’d go for a guy who takes drink recommendations from the bartender?”

He chuckles, not missing a beat. “Because I don’t think you’d waste your time with just any guy.” He holds your gaze, letting the words hang in the air, something challenging in his smile. “You seem a little… particular.”

“And you think you’re up to the standards?” You tilt your head, leaning on the bar just close enough that he has to take in every word.

His eyes flick down to your arm, where your tattoos catch the light, and then back up to meet yours, a flicker of mischief in his gaze. “I think I’d be willing to try,” he says, his voice smooth, steady. “But I’ll leave it up to you if I get the chance.”

You shake your head, suppressing a grin, and reach for another glass, pouring yourself a splash of soda as you lean back. “How about you focus on delivering those drinks first, hotshot?”

Rooster raises his glass in a mock salute, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alright, boss,” he says, clearly amused. “But don’t think I’m letting this go that easily.”

He picks up the tray, balancing it with practiced ease as he throws one last look over his shoulder before heading back to the squad. You’re left behind the bar, catching your breath with a smile as you watch him go, knowing full well he’ll be back for another round—and maybe another shot at breaking through.

The Dagger Squad is clustered around a corner table, the drinks you just served scattered across the tabletop. Conversation and laughter flow easily, but the energy shifts the second Hangman and Rooster start eyeing each other, sizing each other up with cocky grins and sidelong glances. Bob, meanwhile, is trying his best to blend into the background, clutching his Moscow Mule and looking more than a little flustered as he watches his teammates' latest standoff unfold.

“You know, Rooster,” Jake drawls, leaning back in his chair and raising his whiskey with an infuriatingly smug smile, “you’re wasting your time here. She’s clearly more into a guy with… confidence.” He emphasizes the last word, smirking as he takes a slow sip, his eyes flicking over to the bar where you’re serving another customer.

Rooster snorts, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Confidence? Is that what you call whatever it is you do?” He shakes his head, trying to keep his voice casual, but the competitive gleam in his eyes betrays him. “Trust me, Bagman, she’s not going for the guy who struts around like a damn peacock.”

Phoenix snickers, sipping her tequila and watching the scene unfold like it’s her favourite soap opera. “This is priceless,” she mutters to Coyote, who nods, clearly entertained.

“Oh, please,” Jake fires back, unfazed. “You think that ‘slow burn’ routine of yours is going to win her over? Women don’t want to wait around forever. They like a guy who knows what he wants.” He casts another confident glance toward the bar, and Rooster follows his gaze, jaw tightening just slightly.

Bob, meanwhile, is turning a shade of red that nearly matches his squadmate’s call sign. He keeps his eyes firmly on his drink, but Phoenix catches the flush creeping up his neck and nudges him with her elbow.

“Hey, Bob,” she says with a mischievous grin, “you’re awfully quiet over there. What do you think? Who’s got the better shot?”

Bob’s eyes widen as every head at the table turns to look at him. He stammers, his grip tightening on his glass. “I—I don’t know,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I, uh… I think she’d go for someone… respectful. Kind of… uh…”

Rooster grins, reaching over to pat Bob’s shoulder, his tone almost affectionate. “See, Bob gets it. A guy who’s not all in her face about it.”

Jake rolls his eyes, scoffing as he leans back. “Right. Because nothing says ‘charming’ like shyly staring into your drink.”

Bob just blushes harder, sinking a little lower in his seat as Phoenix pats his back in a show of support. “Ignore them, Bob. They’re just scared you’re the dark horse here,” she teases, sending Jake and Bradley a challenging look.

“Oh, is that it?” Hangman laughs, tipping his glass toward Bob in mock salute. “Tell you what, Bob—if she turns me down, I’ll let you take a shot.”

Rooster shakes his head, chuckling. “Sure, Bob. If Jake somehow fails—and trust me, he will—you’ve got my blessing.”

Bob’s face is now a deep shade of crimson, and he lets out a nervous laugh, clearly mortified. But he can’t resist glancing over toward the bar, where you’re moving easily between customers, completely unaware of the mini-drama playing out across the room.

“You know what?” Rooster says, straightening up and giving Jake a look that’s half-challenge, half-smirk. “Why don’t we let her decide who’s worth her time?”

Jake’s eyes narrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Fine by me, Rooster. May the best man win.”

Bob practically melts into his seat, but despite his obvious embarrassment, there’s the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glances at you.

You’ve been keeping an eye on the Dagger Squad from behind the bar, and you’ve caught enough of the banter to know they’re up to something. You can feel the weight of their stares now, so you decide to put them out of their misery. With a knowing smile, you grab a couple of fresh napkins and make your way over to the table, letting your gaze linger on one person in particular.

Bob’s leaning on the railing, doing his best to stay out of the spotlight as Jake and Bradley bicker, each too wrapped up in their little rivalry to notice you coming. Only Phoenix catches your approach, her eyes widening in excitement as she realizes what’s about to happen. She’s the only one who knows, after all.

“Hey, Bobby,” you say with a playful lilt, giving him a warm smile. His head snaps up, his cheeks turning an immediate shade of pink.

You can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s a flicker of pure adoration in his eyes as he takes you in. Without a word, he leans in, brushing his lips softly against yours, his hand finding your waist as he pulls you in. His usual shyness fades as he melts into the kiss, his touch growing just a little bolder, like he’s letting himself savour every second.

Around you, the entire squad has gone silent. Rooster, Hangman, and Coyote are all staring, mouths slightly open in complete disbelief. But it’s not the kiss that has them in shock. It’s the glint of your engagement ring—hanging on a delicate chain around your neck, tucked just under the collar of your shirt. The light catches it as you pull back from Bob, and you see the realization dawn on each of their faces.

“Oh, my god,” Phoenix gasps, covering her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she watches Jake and Bradley try to process what they’re seeing. “No way. All this time, and she’s been with… Bobby?” Her eyes sparkle with pure delight as she glances back at you, unable to contain her excitement.

Bob, still flushed from the kiss, shifts awkwardly as he catches sight of his teammates’ stunned expressions. He ducks his head, clearly overwhelmed by all the attention, but there’s a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“Wait…you’re with Bob?” Hangman says, still sounding completely baffled. He shakes his head, his usual confidence gone. “And you’re engaged?”

“Guess we kept it under wraps a little too well,” you say with a smirk, running a hand affectionately through Bob’s hair, watching as he blushes even deeper but relaxes into your touch. He looks at you with such genuine, quiet adoration that it’s impossible not to smile.

Rooster, still processing, lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Wow. And here I was thinking shy guys didn’t stand a chance.”

Phoenix is practically beside herself with joy, and she can’t help but gloat just a little. “Well, guess what, boys?” You grin, crossing your arms. “Turns out all I wanted was the quiet one.”

#robert floyd x reader #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd x female reader #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob top gun

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scarletmika · 19 days ago

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One Last Gift : ̗̀➛ Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary: Living with Bob Floyd was killing you slowly, especially when you couldn't bring yourself to admit how you felt about him. It's your birthday, though, and shouldn't the birthday girl get whatever it is she wants?

Warnings: insane amounts of fluff, insane amounts of pining (my god I couldn't stop), roommates to lovers, language, female reader, suggestive and steamy, language, Hangman being Hangman (but he's a good guy underneath), probably incorrect descriptions of the Navy (my dad was a Marine, I'm doing my best lol)

Word Count: 6,060 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“Living with Bob Floyd is actually ruining my life,”

It was an exaggeration on your part..for the most part. When the Dagger Squad had been asked to stay on assignment in North Island for the foreseeable future, the entire group jumped at the chance. In those few short weeks together, especially when you’re training for a mission many deemed entirely impossible to come back alive from, you quickly become a family, and no one was ready to leave one another. But staying for a prolonged period meant, inevitably, moving off base would be better for everyone’s mental sanity. The Dagger Squad might be like a family, but even families get on one another’s nerves more often than not.

Somehow, when discussing where everyone was moving to and how far from base everyone would live, you and Bob had agreed to move in together.

The decision shocked no one. Truly, the entire team suspected that if anyone was going to live together, it would be you two. You and Bob were like birds of a feather from the second you met that night in the Hard Deck.

“Well, well, well,” Jake Seresin was nothing if not a cocky bastard most of the time. He shoved his pool cue over into your hands, an action that got an eyeroll out of you “If it ain’t Phoenix! Coyote, Naiad, here I was thinking we were special. Turns out…the invite went to anyone.”

Natasha stepped up to the pool table, eyebrow raised, with two men behind her. You quickly handed the pool cue off to Coyote as she squared off with Jake before you both.

“Fellas,” she addressed the boys behind her. “This here is Bagman-”

“-Hangman-”

“-whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “You’re looking at the only Naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”

Hangman waved his hand in the air, pretending to act humble, before attempting to speak. You cut him off, hand on his shoulder with a smirk of your own as you looked at the boys standing behind Nat.

“Mind you, it was a museum piece from the Cold War. And if I hadn’t laid cover for him, he’d have been dead before he could even take the shot,” Jake looked like he was considering protesting your statement, but ultimately shrugged in agreement. You looked from the boys to Natasha, a smile lighting up your face. “Good to see you, Nix.”

“You too, Naiad,” she quickly pulled you into a side hug, arm still slung around your shoulders as she gestured to the boys behind her. “This here is Payback and Fanboy. Boys, this is Naiad. One of the best pilots I’ve ever known, in and out of the cockpit, and the only one who can keep Hangman’s head out of his ass sometimes.”

“Hey-”

“Naiad?” Hangman’s protest was cut off by Payback’s questioning glance toward you. “Isn’t that, like, a water nymph or something?”

“She got her callsign during one of our brief assignments at Boca Chica Field in Key West, Florida,” Coyote threw him, amusement on his face as he shook his head at the memory. “Couldn’t keep that girl out of the water even if you tried.”

“In Coyote and Hangman’s defense,” you quickly jumped in, sending a wink back at your two best friends. “They tried…desperately, but to no avail.”

Laughter rang through the group at the comment, before Natasha pointed off to the side of the pool table.

“Now, who is he?”

The group's eyes followed Natasha’s pointer finger to the man sitting quietly off to the side. He held an entire cup of peanuts in his hand, wiping the excess shells to the floor as he looked around at the group now looking at him, adjusting the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

“When did you get in?” Coyote questioned.

“O-Oh I’ve been here the whole time,”

Everyone missed the small quirk of your lips when the man finally spoke, that slight twinge of southern in his accent carrying through the air as he nervously glanced around the group.

“Man is a stealth pilot…literally,” Hangman commented as your hand flew up, whacking him across the shoulder. The mystery man shook his head.

“Weapons systems officer, actually,”

“...with no sense of humor,” another whack to Hangman’s shoulder had him looking to you with wide eyes. “Can you quit it with that? Your hand is going to be imprinted on my shoulder at this point.”

“Then quit being a dick for two seconds,” you diverted your attention back to the groups new WSO with a grin. “So, what do they call you?”

He sent you a shy smile, adjusting himself on his chair again with a small nod.

“Bob,” and when Payback questioned him about his callsign, Bob seemed to hesitate for a moment before repeating again “...just Bob,”

“Bob Floyd?” Natasha spoke up again as you turned, plucking the pool cues from Coyote once more before turning back to the conversation again. “You’re my new backseater? From Lemoore?”

“Seems like it,”

“Well, let’s break him in then,” you’d chimed in, stepping up to Bob and holding out a pool cue in his direction. “Any good at pool, Floyd?”

He seemed to sit up straighter, mirroring your smile with a nod of his head.

“Pretty decent, I’d say, Naiad”

“9-ball then. Rack ‘em for me,”

It felt like that day had been years ago, when it had only been the culmination of maybe six months. Bob and you had naturally drifted to one another, almost always engaged in a conversation or sharing a beer during a night at the Hard Deck. It helped that you were the only one who was able to get Hangman to back off him most days, something Bob appreciated.

Living with Bob was great. He was one of your best friends at this point. Kind, respectful, deceivingly hilarious, but there was one problem.

You were hopelessly in love with him, and you refused to say anything about it.

You’d kept mainly quiet about it…for the most part. The only ones who knew officially about your feelings for Natasha, Javy, and Jake, as it was impossible to hide it from your best friends. But it had been months, and as the entire squad gathered in your and Bob’s shared ground-floor apartment to celebrate your birthday, you were slowly losing the restraint you were holding onto to keep it under wraps.

“Living with him is ruining your life because you’re being a baby about it,”

Natasha and Javy laughed at the comment from Hangman, the four of you currently sitting around the fire pit in the small backyard that your apartment held the luxury of having. The rest of the squad, including Maverick and Penny, were currently crowded inside somewhere, most likely the living room, while the four of you had migrated outside for a private conversation.

“I’m not being a baby about it!” you’d argued back, taking a swig of your beer and savoring the taste as you threw Hangman a pointed look. “I’m going to ruin everything if I say something, but living together is torture. One-sided feelings aren’t fun, Bagman.”

“Oh, Naiad, you’re so clueless,” Coyote was the one to laugh out the words, clinking his own beer bottle against Natasha’s outstretched one. “You’re both hopelessly in love with each other.”

Your three best friends shared a laugh, but you, in turn, were frozen trying to process his words. It sounded absurd in your head, to think that this was anything more than you pining after your best friend, your coworker, your roommate. There was no way it could be anything more than one-sided..

“You guys are ridiculous-”

“No, Coyote is entirely right,” Natasha sat forward in her chair, giving you a pointed look. “Let’s take a walk down memory lane, okay? When you called me after living with Bob for less than two weeks, that day you both came back from the complex’s pool?”

For a hot summer Saturday, your apartment complex’s pool was deserted, but you relished in it. You got your pick of chairs for sunbathing, and you didn’t have to share any of the cool water with the kids who lived down the hall from you. It even allowed you to blow up your favorite in pool lounger and float around in the cool breeze, the water nipping at your exposed skin around your favorite bikini, and simply soak in the sun.

“What a shock, my waterbug is in the water,”

At the sound of a voice just feet away outside the pool, you lifted the sunglasses off your face, squinting in the brightened light. Bob stood just at the edge of the pool, donning his swim trunks that you’d seen countless times at Coronado Beach with your friends, along with the t-shirt he typically wore to the beach, too. You shot him a small smile, flicking some of the water in his direction as he laughed. You hoped the red in your skin from the sun would cover the blush that was surely spreading through your cheeks at his simple use of the word “my” in front of his favorite nickname for you: waterbug.

“The rest of the complex doesn’t seem to want to take advantage of the sun, so why not claim the pool for myself?”

“Or is it because you can’t seem to stay away from the water?”

“You going to stand there and bust my non-existent balls or join me in the pool, Floyd?”

As Bob laughed and promised he’d be in the water momentarily, you shifted your sunglasses back to their place in front of your eyes. That also happened to be the exact moment Bob Floyd had, for some reason, decided to take his shirt off.

In all the time you’d known him thus far, in all the beach trips you’d been on with him, Bob Floyd kept his shirt on, even as your mutual friends seemed to gang up on him for it. You’d, of course, fantasized at night (and sometimes in daydreams) about what might be hiding under there, because there’s no way he wasn’t at least slightly jacked given that he was in the Navy, but you hadn’t been prepared fully to see it for yourself.

Bob Floyd wasn’t nearly as jacked as Jake and Bradley were, but he didn’t need to be. He was lean, his muscles clearly defined, and the strain in his biceps as he tore his shirt off was enough for you to think that maybe you needed to slide completely into the water and cool yourself off for multiple reasons.

“I see why you keep your shirt on at the beach now, Floyd,” you remarked, trying to cover the feeling crawling through you with a cough and a joke, leaning your head back against your pool float again and closing your eyes. “You’d probably have all the ladies on the beach after you if you did.”

You’d heard a faint laugh from him before the pool got quiet…too quiet. That’s when Bob took off running, and before you knew it, he’d cannonballed straight into the pool, soaking you with the chlorinated water as he went. You sputtered, taking your glasses off and throwing them toward your chair with your bag on the outside of the pool.

“BOB!” you’d called out with a small laugh, still wiping water from your face as you glanced around to get a glimpse of him. By the time you realized you couldn’t see him, and what that meant, it was already too late. Your pool float had been flipped, dunking you entirely into the pool without a moment's notice.

By the time you’d resurfaced from the water, slicking your hair back and coughing, Bob was in hysterics from where he floated in front of you. That fluttering feeling in your stomach was pushed to the back of your mind now as you smirked across the water at him.

“What, my waterbug can’t handle some water?”

“Oh, you’re asking for it Floyd!” you’d called back before tackling him, both of you falling back into the water in another round of hysterics.

Even the mere thought of that day, of the moment you’d see Bob without his shirt for the first time, was enough to bring the blush back to your cheeks. Natasha noticed, laughing as she pointed it out to the boys.

“See! You’re blushing as bad as I know you were when you called me that day!”

“Okay, this doesn’t prove anything! We’ve established I already like him-”

“Oh no, it proves he likes you, too,” Coyote shot back with a smirk. “Rooster is his best friend, and he won’t even take his shirt off around HIM! I haven’t seen him take it off once, so obviously…either he trusts you enough to show off what he’s hiding under there, or he’s deliberately showing off what he’s got because he wants you to notice it.”

What they were saying…it wasn’t hard to believe, at least not if your friends were talking about anyone else but you and Bob. For some reason, it just didn’t seem possible to you that Bob felt the same way for you that you did for him. Wouldn’t he have surely done something by now, have taken the leap that you were too scared to take?

“Guys-”

“Can’t forget the night you made him dinner,” Coyote interrupted again, his smirk growing at the confused look on your face. “Come on, don’t tell me you forgot? The second Bob was on base the next morning, and you split off to head to the gym, he was talking Rooster’s ear off about it. I swear, there were literal hearts in this man’s eyes as he talked about you.”

It was rare that you managed to get a day off during the middle of the week, but somehow it had worked out for you. A very rare Wednesday that you got to spend keeping up on the household chores that neither you nor Bob wanted to deal with come the weekend, saving it for when you were both exhausted and sweating from the San Diego heat late at night. Grocery shopping for your shared kitchen, loading and unloading multiple loads of laundry for both of you, whatever you could do so that Bob would have an easy night when he got home.

Unlike you, he hadn’t gotten a single day off that week.

There was a new batch of young pilots, and Cyclone and Warlock decided that the Dagger Squad was the best choice for teaching them. With Maverick, Rooster, Coyote, and Hangman all being single-seater pilots, you were the lucky one who’d gotten a rare day off. And with a single text from Bob that night, letting you know he’d be back at the apartment soon, you knew exactly the best way to cheer him up after a long day in the sun.

The first day you moved into your apartment together, and the rest of the team celebrated with you, you had cooked for the entire team. Homemade spaghetti, just like your mother used to make growing up. Homemade pasta, homemade tomato sauce, you name it, and the dish had it. The entire team had adored it, but Bob had sung it’s praises over and over again the entire night.

Being entirely homemade, it was NOT an easy dish to whip up at any point in time, so you hadn’t made it again…until now.

“Hey, I’m back!”

“In the kitchen!” you’d called back the second you heard Bob’s voice from the entryway and the familiar shutting of the front door to the apartment. The sauce was heating up, the pasta was boiling, and it left you simply standing off to the side, leaning against the countertop as Bob entered.

He was exhausted, and it was written clearly across his face. He’d already changed into his casual clothes, and judging by his slightly damp hair, he must have showered on base before coming home. A small smile was shot your way before he was digging through the fridge.

“Be glad you had the day off,” he’d grumbled out, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and almost chugging half of it in an instant. “Those newbies…god, they didn’t know how to listen today. Even Hangman was playing bad cop instead of good cop.”

“Well, that’s how you know it’s a bad day,” you shared a laugh at that. “I did the grocery shopping this morning, so we’re fully stocked up until at least next week. The laundry was all done, too. Your basket is sitting outside your door currently.”

Bob paused at that, just staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite decipher hidden somewhere in his eyes.

“I...you didn’t need to do that. Thank you,” the pair of you shared a soft smile as Bob turned away, shaking his head, and he pulled his phone out. “I haven’t gotten a chance to eat yet, though. Probably going to Doordash something-”

“No need, food will be done in a minute,” he turned back to you as you said that, but you’d already turned back, stirring the pasta noodles in the boiling hot pot on the stove before you. “Pasta should be done in just a minute, and there’s fresh garlic bread keeping warm in the oven.”

“You...you made me…” your cheeks flared for a moment, hearing the way Bob stumbled over his words behind you somewhere in the kitchen. “Is that…your mom’s homemade pasta?”

“I figured it had probably been a long day for you, and I know how much you liked it last time. If you grab us both drinks, I can have this done and on the table in a little bit,”

Silence enveloped the kitchen for a moment before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. A chill immediately shot down your spine as you froze. Bob’s hands gripped your sides, pulling you back into him as the side of his head leaned against yours, and you faltered for just a second while stirring the boiling food before you. The unmistakable feel of lips pressed against the side of your head, and heat immediately shot through your body at the simple action.

“Thank you…”

“...anytime,”

Okay, that memory made you feel a little different, had yet another flush coating your skin, redness deepening. You’d only been living together for two months when you’d made him dinner that night…but that was just the first night of many.

Cooking dinner together became a new normal for both of you, almost always discussing what you wanted to eat night after night. Gone were the nights of eating separately, of having separate grocery lists; that night had set forth a new normal for you, one that you were constantly navigating together. Thinking back, it was also the night when so much changed over the course of your entire relationship with Bob.

Movie nights where you sat just a little closer together than you needed to, sharing a blanket. Those movie nights that ended in you both falling asleep together on the couch, moments you hurried through the next day, and tried not to dwell on what they could or couldn’t mean. The way you ordered for one another at the Hard Deck after that, the other’s usual memorized. And if you didn’t want the usual, it was like you could read one another��s minds.

Had you overlooked so many signs?

“Hey, losers!” it was Bradley Bradshaw, leaning against the doorway of the sliding glass door that led to the backyard, the setting sun washing over the barren yard. His presence interrupted the laughter and hushed conversation shared between Coyote and Phoenix. “Come on, cake time for the birthday girl before we get the movie going.”

You’d nodded, but your mind was elsewhere. Even as Natasha and Javy reentered your apartment to join everyone else. You were staring off into space, trying to fully comprehend what your friends had said, before you looked to Hangman. Your best friend, your confidant since the day you’d met him (no matter how much of an ass he tended to be), simply waiting for you to speak from across the firepit with a smile on his face.

“Have I really been oblivious?”

“Baby-on-board doesn’t tell me about his deep, hidden feelings…but from what I’ve seen, yes,” Jake laughed, rising to his feet as he looked down at you. “Look, Naiad, you’re my best friend. Hell, you’re basically my little sister. Feelings are scary, I should know, that’s why I don’t do relationships. But you and Bobby boy…god, you two need to just knock that wall down and jump each other’s bones already.”

Somehow, Hangman always knew what you needed, and in that moment, you really did need a laugh. You shook your head at him, rising to your own feet and taking his now-empty beer bottle from him, tossing his and yours into the outdoor bin.

“Thanks, Jake. Sometimes, it seems like you really do have a heart,”

“Don’t let the others know that, I’ve got a reputation,” he slung an arm around your shoulder, dragging you back into your own apartment. “And please, don’t thank me until you two finally get laid.”

It was the perfect night, and there was truly no one else that you would’ve rathered spend your birthday with than these people that had become more than friends, more than coworkers, but family.

Fanboy and Payback had placed a sad, dollar-store party hat on your head, positioning you at the head of the dining room table. There was a reason they were all Navy pilots, because not a single one of them could sing well, and it reminded you that you’d need to personally apologize to your neighbors the next day for what probably sounded like dying whales in your apartment.

You’d simply laughed at the group’s terrible rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ watching as Bob and Natasha brought out the large cake they had personally decorated just for you tonight. You’d slotted yourself into Bob’s side as they sang without a care in the world, leaning your head against him before blowing out your candles to yet another round of applause and cheers. Bob didn’t seem to mind, his arm simply winding around your waist and holding you to his side.

Your conversation with Natasha, Javy, and Jake hung in the back of your mind, even as you’d all settled into your small living room to enjoy a movie together after saying a final goodbye to Maverick and Penny for the night. An argument broke out between which of your favorite movies to watch, Beauty and the Beast or The Heat, as you settled onto the loveseat beside Bob, who immediately draped your favorite blanket across both of your laps. Almost unanimously, Beauty and the Beast was chosen, seemingly just to piss off Jake who moaned and groaned that he’d ‘watched it enough with you’ before.

It was that conversation with your friends that replayed in your mind halfway through the movie when your hand reached out under the blanket, interlocking your fingers with Bob’s. If he minded, he didn’t say, simply allowed it to happen and squeezed your hand back, unaware of the blush stretching across your cheeks just as a similar one crossed his.

And when was was said and done, the clock striking 11 p.m. that night, your friends had all filed out with a final goodbye to you both. And just like that, you and Bob were left alone in the comfort of your own home together again. This time, though, the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, your pining wasn’t one-sided was stuck at the forefront of your mind.

Bob washed the dishes in the sink as you dried them, conversing quietly together, stolen looks happening from both sides as you both remained oblivious to the other.

The words were practically hanging off your tongue, and you had to bite them back every time you looked at him and caught him already looking at you. It was your birthday, after all, and if there was one thing you truly wanted to celebrate this day, it was Bob Floyd. You wanted him in every conceivable way, you had since those first few weeks of knowing him, and you knew after the revelations you’d come through tonight with your friends that you could never go back to ignoring your feelings again after tonight.

By the time the clock read 11:30, the dishes were done, and you and Bob both stood quietly in the hallway outside of your bedroom doors, simply looking at one another. The only light flooding the hallway came from the moon shining through the curtains down the hall, but something between you both felt different. Electric. Tense. Charged.

“Thank you for everything today,” you’d whispered out, afraid to speak too loudly in the quiet of the night.

“Of course…you deserved it,” Bob’s answer had been easy, but you could see it. The hesitation at the end, like there was more he wanted to say, but he stopped himself before he could.

You wanted to say more, too. You wanted to profess it all, everything you’d been feeling for months, everything boiling over inside of you. It was dying to come out, dying to know the truth: was this one-sided? Did he feel the same?”

“Goodnight, baby-on-board,” was what you said instead, a small tease woven through your voice.

He’d laughed lightly, a sound you adored more than you cared to admit.

“Goodnight, Naiad. Happy birthday,”

Sleep didn’t come to you. It had been 10, 15, maybe 20 minutes, who knew. But you couldn’t sleep, you simply tossed and turned until you were left staring up at your ceiling in the dead of night, wrapped in the blanket that was soft as a feather that Bob had bought you.

Bob. He’d invaded every single one of your thoughts, not that he was ever NOT in your thoughts, and it was driving you so insane you knew there was no sleeping this off.

Padding back into the kitchen, you left every light off. Instead you stood in the dark, facing your cabinets as you drank a cool glass of water in an attempt to calm yourself down, illuminated only by the lights of the oven and microwave clocks.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You’d frozen in place, whipping around to see Bob leaning against the doorway of the kitchen…shirtless, only in his boxers.

If your throat could’ve gone drier at the sight, it would’ve. The only saving grace you had was the fact that the lights were off, and you could just barely see the outline of his defined muscles in the darkness. It was then that you suddenly realized you were also standing in the kitchen, across from your almost completely naked roommate, in nothing but a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt of your father’s you’d stolen before college.

“Y-yeah…something like that,”

“Same here,” his voice was low, the kind of low that sent a shiver straight down your spine. “I uh…I have a lot on my mind.”

The silence between you seemed to stretch on forever. It was like you both knew where this was heading, like you both knew exactly why the other couldn’t sleep, but neither of you wanted to breach it, neither of you wanted to be the one to cross the line. Or you wanted to, but neither of you knew how to.

“That night…when I made you dinner,” you broached the topic slowly, unsure of where you were even going with this. You wanted to just tell him, but you didn’t know how. “It was…it was very domestic.”

“It was,”

“Do you remember it?”

“Like it was yesterday,”

You paused for a moment, watching his outline in the darkness.

“Do you…do you think about it?”

“All the time,” the way he said it, it was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders the second he let those words leave his lips. “I…I think about you all the time.”

That was all you needed. Confirmation, no matter how small, that Bob Floyd did feel the same way for you that you’d felt for him forever. Letting out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding, you glanced toward the clock on the oven: 11:58 p.m., and suddenly a burst of confidence flowed through you.

“You know…it’s still technically my birthday. There’s…one last gift I really wish I’d gotten,”

His silhouette seemed to straighten up at your words, before he was across the kitchen in moments. Right in front of you, illuminated by the oven clock light, you could finally see his face just inches before you. His slightly parted lips, those dilated blue eyes you could get lost in for hours. His fingers just barely brushed over the skin on the outer edge of your thighs, and your own breath hitched as he looked down at you.

“Well…it’d be wrong not to give the birthday girl what she wants,” there was a slight tremor in his voice, a twinge of nervousness, as if this could all come crashing down on you both with one wrong move. “What do you want, Naiad?”

Finally, you’d let what you’d been dying to say finally go tumbling from your lips.

“I just want the WSO I fell in love with months ago to be mine…in whatever way he’ll let me have him,”

Another word didn’t need to be said before Bob’s hands had a hold of your hips, lifting you up onto the counter behind you. A small gasp left your lips at the cold feel of the granite against your bare thighs as your legs spread on instinct, and Bob didn’t waste a second in stepping between them and pressing himself to you. Hands gripping your waist and holding you to him, your hands immediately found him, curling around his shoulders and fingers twisting into his hair as he let out a low groan.

The only sound in the kitchen was the sound of both of you panting. You hadn’t even kissed, and Bob Floyd had you wrecked beyond compare.

“You don’t understand how long I’ve thought about this, about you,” he’d whispered, almost moaned, lips just barely an inch from your own. “If I’d have known…if I’d have listened to Rooster when he told me you felt the same way-”

“We were both oblivious,” you’d laughed out, hands tugging on his hair again just to hear that sweet groan flow out of him again. “We’re here now, though.”

“And if you want me to stop, I need you to tell me now,” the grip of one of his hands on your hip tightened while the other moved down to your thigh, fingers splayed across the bare skin. Bob sounded absolutely wrecked, and it sent a burn of desire straight through you to the core. “If you don’t stop me now, if I kiss you…I’m not going to be able to stop.”

You let one hand leave his hair, instead curling around his jaw to tilt his lips toward yours.

“Good…because I don’t want you to stop,”

Your friends had joked that Bob Floyd was probably a timid lover, that his kisses were probably soft, sweet, passionate, but in the most mundane of ways. Maybe they were right, maybe in public, surrounded by others, that’s how he’d be. But in this moment, with you, the air charged with the anticipation that this had been a long time coming, Bob Floyd’s kiss was anything but timid.

He kissed you with passion, with hunger, with red-hot, burning need embedded in every move of his lips against yours. His vice-like grip was sure to leave a mark across your hip bone, or leave the indents of his fingers splayed across your thigh for days to come. There wasn’t a single centimeter of space left between you both as Bob pulled you straight into him, his bare chest pressed against your front as you begged him in your own head to just get rid of your shirt already.

You held him back just as closely, hand still wound into his hair as the other left his jaw, trailing down his chest to the sculpted body you’d only seen a handful of times, but dreamed about getting your hands on for months now. A low moan left you the second his lips trailed away from your own, trialing down your jawline and to your neck, a slight hiss of pain for just a second leaving your lips as he bit a mark into your skin, one just high enough it would be impossible to hide from your friends at work.

Marking you, claiming you as his. He didn’t need to, though; you’d been his long before this moment, he just didn’t know it.

“Take me to bed,” you’d just barely managed to whisper out, tugging is lips back to yours. “Make me yours.”

“You already are,” he’d whispered back before pressing another bruising kiss to your lips. And in a show of incredible strength that flooded your core with another burn of desire, Bob had swept you into his arms, navigating throughout your shared home with precision, before he’d brought you over the threshold of his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him with just his foot.

A night that felt like a dream. That, truly, if not for waking up in Bob Floyd’s arms the next morning, you’d have believed it was just another dream of yours.

Sunlight streamed through the crack in Bob’s curtains as you’d opened your eyes, head resting on his bare chest. His thin comforter just barely covered both of your bare bodies, letting the cool, San Diego morning air of the open window ghost over your skin. Bob’s arm was wound around your body, drawing a circle along the skin of your back. You shifted in his arms in order to sit up and fully look at him, that delicious ache in your bones and muscles an indicator that, no, last night wasn’t a dream.

“Hi,” you’d whispered out the second you had your eyes on him, mirroring the smile he already had on his face as he ran a hand through his messy up hair.

“Hi back,”

A giggle escaped you at the deep sound of his voice so early in the morning. You leaned over him, wincing slightly at that ever-present ache in your muscles, grabbing his glasses and slotting them back onto his face with a grin.

“There’s my handsome pilot-”

“I love you,” he’d murmured, cheeks heating red instantly as another giggle managed to slip past your lips. “I know I said it…a thousand times last night, but I had to say it again. I love you…I’ve loved you for so long, Naiad-”

You cut him off, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. This one differed from all those the night before. Still passionate, but slow. Still needy, but laced with months of hidden love for one another.

“I love you, too,” you muttered back against his lips as you slowly pulled away.

“Let me take you on a date tonight,” he’d immediately said, arms around your waist, tugging you even closer, as if that was possible at this rate. “I’m yours, and you’re mine, but let me do this right. Let me take you out to dinner-”

“Let me stop you right there,” you interrupted, pressing a finger to his lips. “I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with dinner dates, but I’d prefer if we do something that we don’t already do constantly in our apartment as our first official date.”

Laughter was shared between you both at that comment as Bob nodded his head in agreement.

“An arcade, then. There’s one over on Mission Beach, even has laser tag, and a roller coaster right next to it. Then, my waterbug can run off onto the beach and jump into the ocean like I know she’ll want to,”

My waterbug. His waterbug. It brought another smile to your lips as you leaned in for yet another kiss, a feeling you were sure you’d already grown addicted to.

“Anywhere, anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you, Bob Floyd,”

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0mg-bird · 10 months ago

Note

i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3

unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?

Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3

Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Absolutely not, Robert.”

Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.

“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."

He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.

You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.

"Yes they will." He says.

"I'm boring."

"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."

He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."

Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."

As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.

"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.

He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."

And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.

"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.

You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.

"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.

Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.

You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.

"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.

"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.

You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.

"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.

You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.

Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.

Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.

Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.

Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.

"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.

"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.

At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.

"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.

Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.

You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."

He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.

It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.

"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.

"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.

"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.

As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"

Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."

The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.

"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."

Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."

They all gasp.

"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.

At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.

"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.

"I'm good on dry land, sailor."

Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."

"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.

"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.

He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"

"Not a chance."

You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"No! Bobby!"

He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.

“Bobby!”

“One.”

“No, baby, please.”

“Two.”

“Robert Floyd!”

“Three!”

He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”

The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.

“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.

“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.

#top gun fandom #top gun maverick #bob floyd #fluff #lewis pullman #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #bob x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun one shot #send asks

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ddejavvu · 11 months ago

Text

m.list - jake 'hangman' seresin

thoughts: #let's talk about hangman !!

fics:

spring fling (series)

hungman

pizza box puzzle pieces

sun-kissed

blurbs:

rooster x reader x hangman | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

surprising jake for christmas

outlaw!hangman

living on a ranch with hangman

being feral for hangman

jake + clingy!reader

personal trainer!jake

vampire!hangman

hangman + casual dominance

hangman's dirty talk

waxing jake's chest

jake's skincare routine is longer than your own

jealous!hangman

hangman is shy around you | 2

hangman likes proving you're his

hangman + rivals to lovers

dbf!hangman | 2 | 3

drunk!hangman

jake x pregnant!reader

jake x bradshaw!reader

showering with jake

the dagger squad as mechanics

cuddling with the top gun pilots

jake with a secret wife

whipped!hangman

jake x shy!reader

booktok with husband!hangman

jake buying you flowers

bathing with jake

hangman x florist!reader

hangman's gf has a bonfire with the dagger squad

hangman comforts you after a botched haircut

top gun x criminal minds crossover

ceo!hangman

hangman corrals his drunk girlfriend

you wear jake's cowboy hat

hangman + dumbification

hangman doesn't recognize you with your new hair

hooking up with hangman

jake lets you into the bar's bathroom

jake taking you in the locker room

you're hangman's girl

decorating jake's car

asking jake to leave while you change

hangman alphabet: N O P

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xhazzz · 5 months ago

Text

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bouquets & Barbecues

warnings: none, more of Jake being a sweetheart

summary: just Maverick being a little over protecting with his daughter and Jake being cute as always

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || requests are open

For the end of summer and to take a break from work worries, Dad had organized a barbecue in our backyard, inviting everyone: the Dagger Squad, Penny and Amelia, and even Hondo and Cyclone. Everyone was supposed to bring snacks and drinks, while Dad took charge of the meat. But he seemed to have gotten a little carried away, buying enough to feed every football team on the coast.

“Dad, are you feeding the Daggers or the entire Arctic Circle?” I asked as I arrived in the backyard with the cooler.

“Have you seen how those guys eat?” Dad replied, firing up the grill. “Just Rooster and Hangman alone will eat half of this. Speaking of Hangman…”

“Dad,” I sighed, placing my hands on my hips, “I’m not a little girl anymore. I’m too old for this.”

“No matter how old you are, you’ll always be my little girl,” Dad said, walking over and kissing my forehead. “Seresin better never hurt you, or I’ll have six confirmed kills in the air.”

“I think he got the message after all the extra drills you’ve made him do on base.”

“After seeing him make out with my daughter on my front porch, can you blame me?” he added, shaking his head. “I still need to have a serious talk with him.”

“Stop, Dad,” I replied, covering my face with my hand in embarrassment.

He just laughed as I walked back into the house. Moments later, I heard the doorbell. The gang was starting to arrive.

“I’m here!” Rooster shouted, barging in like he owned the place, with Phoenix and Payback right behind him.

“Come on in, guys. Dad’s out back,” I said, giving Nat a quick hug and putting the drinks in the fridge. “He bought enough meat to last us all fall.”

“Your old man promised to host the best barbecue of the summer,” Payback said, accepting a beer Rooster handed him.

We all headed to the backyard, and it quickly started filling up. Everyone had arrived—except Jake. I was starting to feel nervous, knowing it was only a matter of time before Rooster and Dad started teasing me.

“Punctuality doesn’t seem to be his strong suit,” Dad commented, handing me a plate of sausages.

“Come on, Dad, it’s just a regular Saturday, not a base training session,” I replied, pretending not to care. Hangman better show up soon.

“You’re wrong, sweetheart. It’s not just any Saturday,” Dad said, pulling up a chair and sitting beside me. “It’s the first time I’ve invited everyone to eat at my house. And if I’m not mistaken, Hangman is dating his trainer’s daughter.”

“I told you he’s just another idiot,” Rooster chimed in, sitting on my other side and trapping me between the two pilots.

“You too?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“I’m just making sure no one breaks Baby Mav’s heart,” he replied in a baby voice, pinching my cheeks.

“Get off me,” I laughed, playfully pushing him away. Just then, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell.

I rushed to the door and found Jake on the other side, flashing his charming smile. He was wearing khaki shorts, a casual navy blue shirt, his signature aviator sunglasses, and his hair was slightly messier than usual—no gel today.

“Hey, you, Seresin,” I greeted him with a quick kiss. “You had me worried. I thought you weren’t coming, and I’d have to endure Dad and Rooster lecturing me all afternoon.”

“I’d never stand you up, darling,” he said, placing one hand on my waist and pulling me closer. I noticed his other hand was behind his back, and next to him was a small cooler, likely filled with beer. “I was just running late picking these up for you.”

From behind his back, he revealed a beautiful bouquet of gardenias and lilies in various shades.

“They’re gorgeous,” I said, taking them in my hands. “Thank you, honey. You didn’t have to.”

This time, he placed both hands on my hips, rubbing them affectionately, and pulled me into a tender yet passionate kiss. We were interrupted by a fake cough behind me.

“Watch those hands, Seresin,” Dad said, standing there with Rooster, both wearing their overprotective hawk stares.

“You’re late, Bagman,” Rooster added, stepping forward to grab the cooler from the ground.

“Damn, Chicken, you’re annoying even off duty,” Jake sighed, shaking his head and guiding me inside the house, his hand never leaving my waist while he used the other to close the door. As we walked through the kitchen, I quickly placed the flowers in a vase with fresh water.

“Thanks for the invite, Mav,” Jake said, smiling politely.

“All pilots are welcome here,” Dad replied with a nod toward the backyard, “but how you treat my daughter will determine how welcome you really are. Don’t forget who’s in charge.”

“You have my word, Mav. I only have the best intentions…” Jake started, but I quickly cut him off.

“Enough, both of you. This is so embarrassing,” I muttered, shaking my head at them. “Let’s just eat before the food gets cold.”

“Lead the way, my lady,” Jake said with a tight-lipped smile, walking behind me while Dad chuckled, crossing his arms.

#hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun hangman #fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #glenn powell #hangman x reader #tumblr fyp #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin #jake seresin x you

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writingdumpster · 2 years ago

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secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

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

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman.

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

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

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out.

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

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

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked.

“Y/N,” you told her.

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

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

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

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

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #top gun x reader #dagger squad x reader #bob floyd x reader fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

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the-shedevil-writes · 12 days ago

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Drunk on You (Bob Floyd x Reader)

DESCRIPTION: Bob rarely drinks. But after losing a bet with Phoenix, he ends up downing five drinks of her choice—none of them realizing just how absurdly strong they are. Leaving you to take care of your sweet and very drunken boyfriend as he fights for his life. WORD COUNT: 3.3k WARNINGS: Drinking/Accidental Drunkenness, Cussing

MY MASTERLIST - READ ON AO3!

Friday nights were reserved for drunken pool games at The Hard Deck with Y/n’s favorite squad of pilots. But by the end of the week, she was exhausted. Work, for some reason, had been a much bigger load to bear. People were just much more forgetful, rude, and critical this week, leaving her to pick up the pieces. She just wanted to stay in, maybe watch a movie, and sleep.

When she told her boyfriend, Bob, this over the phone, he immediately stepped in. “Do you want me to stay back with you? I know you’ve had a hard week.” He said sweetly.

She shook her head, “No, you’re all good. If you wanna swing by after, go ahead though.” She reassured. Though she’d love to just lie in bed with Bob, and hold each other till they were fast asleep and drooling. The TV always ended up playing the ‘continue watching?’ screen.

“Okay, I shouldn’t be out too late. Might have a few drinks because I lost a bet to Phoenix.” He said, sighing.

That made her chuckle. She was not surprised by that in the slightest. Bob wasn’t a huge drinker. He’d have a beer every once and a while and call it a night. But that just made it easier for the dagger squad to have leverage against him.

“That’s fine. Be safe.” She said into the phone

“I always am.”

Well, it was 11 PM. She was in the middle of her millionth Friends rewatch, and she was bored out of her mind. Maybe she should’ve gone to Hard Deck. She took a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth.

Then her phone rang. Caller ID: Chicken. Obviously, her screen name for Rooster. Her brows furrowed, but she shrugged as she reached for her phone. It was probably going to be just him grumbling about how she didn’t come out and how much fun she was missing. She pressed the green answer button.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/n- Uh- We’ve got a situation,” Rooster said over the speaker.

Oh god. What happened? A million different possibilities played through her mind. Did Bob get hurt? Did someone hit on him? Did he die in some freak accident? There were too many ‘situations’ that this could be. And it was only 11 PM.

“What do you mean?” She asked worriedly.

“IS THAT Y/N?” A familiar voice echoed faintly in the back… Was that?

“Bud, go- go sit in Jake’s truck.” Rooster said off to the side, “So, Phoenix brought this new daiquiri seltzer thing for Bob to drink as part of their bet. And neither of them realized it had a 70% alcohol content.” He sounded like he was wincing, as if waiting to hear her yell at him.

“Jesus Christ! Is he okay?” She asked, more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, he only had a couple, but for a guy who barely drinks… He’s pretty gone. We were talking about having him just stay at my place, but we didn’t know if you guys had plans.”

She immediately jumped into action, “Bring him to mine. He has a bunch of his stuff here.” She said firmly. “How’s Phoenix? Does she need anything?”

“She’s fine. She had a lot less. We’re getting Bob water, then we’ll be on our way.”

“Alrighty. Sounds good.”

She hung up the phone and started prepping for his arrival. Usually, it was the other way around. On a crazy Friday night, it was Bob taking care of her drunken mess. So even though she was tired, she wasn’t mad. It’s not like he had planned on this.

She grabbed a bunch of plastic water bottles and put them on her bedside table. There were some extra clothes he kept in a drawer in her closet. She loved that drawer. She loved the fact that it existed. That he felt comfortable enough dating her to leave his things there.

Ibuprofen for when he was hungover the next day. Snacks for if he needed something to soak everything up. And an extra blanket for if he got the chills.

Yeah, it was safe to say that she was very experienced in being dysfunctionally drunk… Was that a problem? She dusted her hands off. Oh well, it just meant that she knew exactly how to take care of Bob, who was probably getting his world fucking rocked.

A knock on the door broke her out of her thoughts, and she ran over to open it. When she did, she found a sober Hangman and Rooster holding up a disheveled Bob. His glasses were crooked on his face, and his typically tidy hair was pushed back and standing up. A red drunken flush crossed his cheeks. She had never seen him so wrecked.

“Hey, party animals,” She said, trying to keep the atmosphere light, letting them in.

“Hey… Sorry to crash your night in.” Rooster said with a guilty expression.

“Oh, it’s no problem. This is kind of an emergency.”

Meanwhile, Bob looked up at Hangman with a hazy smile. “That’s my girlfriend.” He slurred, nodding proudly. She broke into a smile.

Hangman nodded, pretending to be entertained, “Yeah, buddy. Very astute.” He dropped his smile and looked over at her, “He has not shut up about you, all freaking night.”

She gave a smile that said ‘awww’. Poor Bob. Even in his inebriated state, he was still thinking about her.

“Where do you want us to put him?” Rooster asked, still holding onto Bob, who looked like he was doing his best to be present… but failing.

“Here, we’ll take him to my room.” She said, leading them in.

After they got Bob lying on the bed, she walked them to the door. The two lieutenants walked out with their tails between their legs, saying their sorrys. She tried to reassure them that it was completely fine. But they were good guys. It was clear they felt bad for crashing her night, and also probably for not reading the tiny wording on the front of the bottle.

She walked back into her bedroom to find Bob lying on top of the blankets. His cheek pressed up against the pillow, and his legs sprawled out.

“Baby… I’m drunk.” He cried out.

That made her heart hurt. She knew he didn’t like to drink very much. That he didn’t like the feeling of it. She walked over to the bed and gently sat by his feet. Reaching out to hold his ankle.

“I know. I can see that. Let’s get you out of this uniform and into something comfy.” Her voice was softer than normal.

He nodded, slowly blinking. She moved over to the floor and knelt by his face so she could take his glasses off. The wire frames were currently being crushed between his face and the bed. She reached out to grab the arms of it, and he sighed just looking at her.

“My god, you’re so pretty.” He slurred. His blue eyes looked up at her. Pupils huge enough that she could see her reflection in them. “Don’t- Don’t take my glasses off. I wanna see my pretty girl.”

She couldn’t help the smile that grew on her face. Taking care of Bob really wasn’t bad at all. “Thank you. But you’re crushing your glasses. The arms might get all bent.”

His eyes widened in understanding. “Oh yeah.” He said, sitting up clumsily to avoid that. His body swayed, as if he were sitting on a ship.

She stood back up and gently took the glasses off his face. He looked up at her with his big doe eyes. After some admiring, he reached out his arms and looked up at her, as if asking for permission. She chuckled and walked in between his legs so he could wrap his arms around her waist. His face pressed up against her stomach. “I missed you. I just wanted to go home.”

She stretched over and put his glasses on the bedside table before hugging him back and scratching the back of his head. He let out a shaky exhale at that. It made her heart skip a beat that he called her house ‘home’. Or maybe it wasn’t the house. Maybe she was his home.

“Yeah, I know. We’re gonna get you sober soon.” She reassured. She left his arms and grabbed the shirt and boxers that she had picked out and left on the dresser. Returning to him, sitting obediently on the bed, she began to unbutton his khaki shirt.

He giggled, “I always- I always like it when you do that.” He stammered while squinting his eyes, as if he was trying to get the best view of her without his glasses.

“I know you do. But tonight we’re just sleeping, mister.” She teased

“That’s my favorite.” He said, happily nodding as she took off the overshirt.

“Arms up for me, baby.” She said, and he did it, letting her slip the white T-shirt underneath over his head, “You’re a very easy drunk to take care of.” She commented.

He smiled to himself as she helped him put on the old Lemoore Union High School shirt he used for pajamas. “I-I don’t wanna make your week worse.” He admitted softly.

Oh yeah. The horrible week had slipped her mind. She had told him so so many times over the phone about it in the past few days. There were a few times she’d sniffle and tear up on their phone calls, out of frustration built up. And he’d always try and be right over because that was just Bob. He never wanted to see his girl upset.

And it was clear he was worried about upsetting her right then.

“Bob, any time I spend with you is the best part of my week.” She said truthfully, “This included.” She kissed his head, and he closed his eyes, just letting himself feel the bliss for a moment.

After Bob was done changing into some fresher boxers, she had him sit up against the bed frame. She handed him a water bottle, which he accepted eagerly.

“Don’t drink too fast or you’ll throw up.” She said, “You’ve seen me do it.”

He chuckled at that and took a slow sip of water. She crawled onto the bed and sat next to him, checking her phone and reading the group texts from Rooster and Hangman teasing everybody about the night.

Chicken: Well, that’s the last time Phoenix ever brings a drink to the function. Jesus Christ.

Bagman: Will send all blackmail here in the morning so it hits you harder hungover. Take a shot every time Bob talks about his girlfriend in the videos.

“You are so pretty, Y/n.”

She turned her attention back to him, “You’ve said that quite a lot tonight.” She said, raising her brows. The constant repeats made her wonder what exactly he was saying to Hangman all night.

“You should- you should be a model.” He hiccuped, “Like those girls on Hangman’s w-all.”

The water had given him a bad case of the hiccups, but he seemed just eager to talk to her now with a little more energy.

She furrowed her brows and smirked. “Who are the girls on Hangman’s wall?”

He closed his eyes and nodded at nothing. “When we share a stateroom, he’s got these big p-osters. With- with these ladies on it.”

She was trying to stifle her laugh as he talked with his eyes closed.

“And they’re all in like red bikinis on the beach or- or on the American flag… I don’t think that’s allowed.” He said, sadly shaking his head, which made her laugh out loud. She couldn’t hold it in at what looked like his genuine disappointment about a violation of The Flag Code.

He blinked his eyes open at her laugh. His favorite sound in the whole world. A bashful look went over his face. “But none of them are prettier than you.”

“You’re crazy, baby. Thank you. Maybe at some point I’ll do a photoshoot like that and print you a poster.” She offered.

His eyes practically bugged out of his head at the thought. A surprised cough came from his throat as he pointed up to the ceiling. “But I-IIIIIII wouldn’t put it on the bunk wall. That’s just for me.” He said, nodding and leaning over so he could lie in her lap. Even though the subject matter was scandalous, he wasn’t touchy. He wasn’t trying to start anything. He just wanted to spend this horribly sloshed time with his girl.

“Oh, that’s just for you?” She repeated, teasingly looking down at him, as she brushed her fingers through his hair. He looked up at her with half-lidded eyes. “How are you feeling? Are you feeling dizzy? Thirsty? Hungry?”

He shook his head. “I feel better. I’m gonna feel bad tomorrow though.” He groaned.

She nodded, “But that’s why I’m here. I’m gonna make us breakfast, and get you lots of water and ibuprofen.” She sang softly.

The blissed smile returned to his face. “You’re an angel. A literal angel.” He reached out and held her hand.

She squeezed his hand back. “What even happened? What was the bet?”

He groaned again. His face crumpling up and it was simply adorable. “So, so there’s this strike we’re training for. And- and the target is like… It’s like…”

She did her best to seem attentive and listen, but she was fighting the urge to smile. Playing with his messed-up sandy blonde hair between her fingers, she found it interesting how he struggled to speak. Usually, when he explained missions to her, he was able to explain it straight to the point… Not tonight.

“The target is like… super duper tiny. And I was like, heyyyy no problem. Nooooo problem for Bob. No, no.” He said, giggling to himself in her lap, “But Phoenix said I couldn’t do it. And I was like- that’s mean.”

“So you bet that you could do it.” She finished his story.

He nodded, “Mmmhmm, I-I bet that I could do it first try. Which was stupid. And my punishment was drinking 5 drinks of Phoenix’s choice.”

“Why’d she choose that one?” She asked curiously

“LOOK!” He said suddenly, very loudly with his eyes shot open, which made her laugh, “Sheee thought that she was doing me a favor. She had heard that this brand tasted like juice. So it’d be easier for me, ya know.”

She nodded, listening. It was sweet that he was still defending his pilot. Even though he was absolutely wrecked, he wasn’t angry at Phoenix.

“And it did. It tasted like strawberry juice. Like your favorite. But the percentage was so high.” Bob whined, “Per can.”

“70% per CAN? These were canned drinks?” She groaned

He nodded, clearly regretting. “Not fun. Not fun at all.”

After a little bit of just talking, he started drifting off on her lap. She gently moved him off of her, just so she could lie down next to him. He grumbled, but he was too exhausted and dizzy to protest. She tucked him in under the blanket and turned off the bedside lamp.

When she shifted onto her side, she felt Bob scooch over and wrap his arms around her. He squeezed her against him like a teddy bear, looking for comfort. She sighed, relaxed, and smiled to herself. She did a good job. He’s gonna be just fine.

The next morning, Bob woke up with a loud groan. His head felt like it was being split open with an axe. Sitting up, he looked around dazed and blind for a second before remembering that he was in his girlfriend’s bedroom. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table, putting them on.

He found a sticky note next to a water bottle and painkillers,

‘Picking up eggs for breakfast. Drink the water and ibuprofen… Don’t throw up in bed, please :)’

He did so. He chugged the water and threw back the pills now that his stomach wasn’t as sensitive. A queasy feeling took over him, but he was used to it. He flew jets after all, so nausea didn’t often get him to throw up. After some deep breaths, the feeling subsided.

After that, he checked his phone to see that the group chat had blown up.

The most recent messages were from 2 AM, and it was a picture of Phoenix passed out on Rooster’s couch. A blanket draped over her as her mouth hung open with a little drool on her chin.

Rooster: Get this woman her car keys.

A groan mixed with a laugh escaped him right as Y/n walked in.

“Morning, baby. How’s the hangover?”

God, he was so glad to see her. He was so happy to be in his girlfriend’s room, and not on Rooster’s couch.

“Bad. So bad.” He sighed, rubbing his face.

“You feeling good enough to eat? I’m gonna just make some quick eggs and toast.”

With a tired nod, he got out of bed. He walked over to her and silently wrapped his arms around her. “Yes, please.” He rested his chin on top of her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

She sighed into his neck. “Any time… You’re always taking care of me when I’m drunk anyway. It’s about time I redid the favor.” She chuckled.

A little bit later, they sat at her kitchen counter, eating their eggs and toast. Bob picked at his slowly, wary of making himself sick. She had her phone out and scrolled through the various videos Hangman sent. Starting from the beginning of the night, there was a video of a sober Bob sitting in a booth and looking at the camera with dread.

“My name is Bob Floyd. And this video is to document that Natasha Trace was completely and utterly right.” He said before opening a white can with a strawberry label and cheering it to the camera.

The next video was Bob, a little gone, but not as bad as the state she saw him in. “My name is Robert. And- and I’m three drinks in… These are kinda strong, Hangman.” He burped.

“They’re the most girly drink she could find, Bob,” Hangman said off-camera.

“Anyway. I miss my girlfriend, and I wanna go home.” He said before taking a sip of his fourth can.

The last video was chaotic and shaky footage of Bob being helped into Hangman’s truck. In the background, they could hear Rooster on the phone with her. He scooched in and lay across the back seat. “Where’s Y/n? How come she’s not here?” He asked confused, making her laugh as she watched back the footage. Bob couldn’t even watch it; he just groaned, listening to the audio.

“She’s at home. We’re taking you to her, I think.” Hangman said.

“I love her so much.” He slurred, “I’m gonna- ’m gonna marry that girl. She’s so smart. And so pretty.”

She gasped and laughed out loud watching that back. Bob’s eyes shot open. He said that?!

Hangman turned the camera to himself, revealing a monotone expression. He looked pissed off before turning the camera back to show Bob again.

“Hangman, where’s my phone? I- I wanna call her.”

“I have it so you don’t, dumbass.”

Then the recording ended, and she looked over at Bob, who had his head in his hands.

“You’re so sweet.” She said, leaning over to poke at his shoulder

“I hope you know that I’d say it all again sober.” He said nervously. He didn’t want her to think that it was just a drunk accident. All of what he said was true; he just didn’t say it so pointedly all the time. Some liquid convincing just made all his feelings burst out.

“I know.” She said confidently, “I love you, too.”

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