#topgun fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

allbark-no-bite · 2 months ago

Text

on the brink.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)

summary: having children was never on the table. you never had the maternal instinct that most girls seemed to have growing up and you had no interest in the mundane tasks that came with acting as a mother in a plastic playground house. but when you're forced to choose between your husband's and your own dreams, the decision gets a little bit more complicated. aka the unplanned pregnancy fic that no one asked for

warnings: angst, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of abortion

author's note: okay i know this is not the fic that i've been promising yall, but i swear i'm working on it. this is pretty different than a lot of things that i've written before. a bit of self expression and indulgence if you will so just bear with me (if you hate it don't tell me)

————————————————————————

"I'm never having kids," you had admitted suddenly into the darkness of the cabin, staring up at the ceiling. The waves lapped at the sides of the ship, swaying the carrier just slightly. There was nothing, not even the faint footsteps of a sailor patrolling on night duty overhead, just the sounds of the vast open sea all around.

You could practically hear Bradley's eyebrows furrow, his voice of surprise coming out a bit loud considering the sailors that slept all around you. "Why?"

"Isn't that what you said to Maverick?" you retorted. "'No wife, no kids to mourn you when you burn in'?"

Even in the dimly lit bunk room, you could see Bradley sit up, his broad figure washed in blue moonlight. "That's not— Maverick's a—"

"A man?"

Bradley doesn't answer.

"Fuck you, Bradshaw."

As the years progressed, that was the typical response you received when you expressed your reluctance to have children. After a while, you grew used to it, being made out to be a monster, being told you would change your mind. You knew you wouldn't of course, but your act of considering the suggestion eased the consciences of those who thought they had carried out their duty of convincing you otherwise.

You never had the maternal instinct that most girls seemed to have growing up. You had no interest in the mundane tasks that came with acting as a mother in a plastic playground house or pushing a doll in a stroller. Because you never leave that plastic playground house. Not even when you grow up do you escape those four suffocating walls.

Because once you become a mother, that is all you are. Because that's who a mother is. Someone who devotes every single waking moment of the rest of their lives sacrificing for their children. Who you were before, your past, your achievements, that's not who you are anymore. You are 'Mom', 'Mommy', 'Mamma'.

You give it all up to be a mom. Because there is nothing worse than an absent mother. You had experienced it first hand, and you wouldn't do that to your children.

Your mother sacrificed to be a mom. But there wasn't a day that she let you forget it.

One thing you feared was the havoc it would wreck on your career. You were selfish in that way. Setting aside your career was not an option, not when you had worked so hard for so long. On top of being in the military, not wanting children was another blaring red flag. The combination didn't exactly lend itself to many dating opportunities.

Therefore, when you first met Jake, you weren't looking for anything serious. You knew how these kinds of things went. It would be fine at first. He'd be smitten with you, enamored even. You'd see each other for a while, maybe even start dating if things got that far. And then more serious conversations would happen, and he'd realize that no man wants to marry a woman who puts herself first.

Except Jake didn't seem to mind.

"Okay," he had replied without much hesitation. Dare you say without any hesitation.

"Okay?" You echoed in response, the confusion in your voice evident.

He'd shrugged, tipping back the last of his beer before standing up. "Yeah. Okay." You craned your neck to follow him. Jake stopped in front of you, leaning over to peck your lips. "We'll figure it out, okay?" And then he'd turned to take his righteous place at the dart board, as if it was as easy as that.

And for a while it almost was.

The Uranium mission came and went, deployments passed, and it all was just that easy. With the Commander of the Pacific Fleet on your side, it was never too hard to get assignments relatively near to each other, and even then, Jake was only ever a flight away. Even in the years before the two of you got around to getting married, when your chances of getting deployed halfway across the country from each other were high, it was all just so easy.

It was laughable how well things worked out between you and Jake. And maybe that sort of ease came with being in the same line of work and understanding the stress of the job, but even outside of that, life with Jake was ridiculously simple. As strange as it was to admit, your life didn't change drastically when Jake came into it. Jake liked to sleep by the door so the left side of the bed was still yours, Jake got off of work at the same time as you so you weren't stuck waiting around for someone to come home, he didn't speak to his family much so there were never any obligatory family gatherings to attend, and like you, he was in no rush to buy a home or get married. The only reason the two of you did finally get around to getting married was because Nat was convinced the two of you would just stay engaged forever and so she planned the whole ceremony herself. And there was no saying no to Nat.

Even after you married Jake, nothing changed. You moved in together sure, and with that came the assurance that you'd be the first person the Navy notified if anything ever happened to him and the same for you, but that was about it. All of the terrible things people warn you that will happen once you move in with your partner never happen. It's so fucking easy.

Until it isn't.

Jake is away on a mission when you start having symptoms. Not really even symptoms, just a bit of nausea here and there, an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Call it intuition if you will, but you know something is wrong. You dismiss it at first, put it off because you can. It's only once you start puking after every early morning hop that you come to terms with the fact that you've been avoiding the truth. And as much as you'd like to pretend like it isn't happening, you have to do something. You make an appointment at a clinic for the following week.

You wait until Jake's stateside to tell him. Not because there's any decision for you to make, or that you want to give him the opportunity to change your mind because you know he won't, but because you're established enough in your relationship that you know that this isn't going to change anything. As Jake had reassured you years ago, it was okay. You'd figure it out.

Jake had gotten back home early in the morning, but because you'd been assigned an early hop and then agreed to take on some of the newer pilots in some dogfighting, most of the day has passed by the time you're leaving base and you've still yet to see him. Just as you're grabbing your things and leaving the locker room, planning on calling him on the way to the clinic, he catches you in the hall.

You're mid stride when he saunters around the corner, moving with just enough comfortable confidence in his walk that it comes off as cocky, like he owns the place and hasn't been gone for a month. Jake breaks out into a grin. "Ah just who I was hoping to see."

"Jake!" you state in surprise, barley registering who he is before he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a long overdue hug. One of his large hands comes up to pet your hair, the other squeezes your waist. Relaxing, you breathe him in, musky and familiar. You've been slightly on edge all day and a hug from him was just what you needed.

Phoenix huffs from behind you, breaking the silence. "That's funny because I was hoping not to see you, Bagman." The gleam in her eyes is affectionate. The Dagger Squad has remained close in the following years but that's not to say that old rivalries fade.

Jake releases you from the embrace for the most part but keeps his heavy arm draped across your shoulders, holding you close. "You been takin' care of my wife, Trace?" he asks, his voice warm and heavy.

Natasha glares at him playfully over her shoulder as she pushes past the two of you. "She was my wife before she was yours, Seresin. You stay gone too long again and I might steal her back."

You smile privately to yourself as they banter back and forth, watching as Phoenix finally disappears down the hallway. For a moment you forget about what you're about to do. Jake looks down at you, his grin stretching widely across his face, once again as he squeezes you in close. "Ready to head home?" he asks, his arm dropping from around you so that he can grab your bag.

Suddenly you hesitate, the words caught in your throat.

Immediately, Jake's smile falters just slightly, his brow creasing in worry as he steps back towards you. "It's everything okay? Did something happen?"

A sudden on rush of tears are stinging at your eyes and you struggle to get the words out of your closing throat.

"I think I'm pregnant, Jake."

At first you can't tell what he's thinking because the look on his face becomes immediately serious. His smile vanishes and his brow lifts in surprise. "Oh."

"Oh?" You echo, panic that you hadn't thought existed rising in your throat. Was he angry?

"No, I mean, fuck, that's great, baby," he quickly clarifies, reaching out to take your hand. "I just wasn't expecting that."

You stare at him, your panic rising even more now. Because that was not what you were expecting. "Great? No, it's not great. What do you mean, great?! I thought you said you didn't want kids?!"

Jake shrugs, throwing his hands up slightly in exasperation. "I mean maybe I didn't at one point, but things change, (Y/n). This isn't a bad thing."

Your eyebrows shoot up. Because this is quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened. "Are you kidding, Jake?! I can't be a mom! I'm a fucking fighter pilot!"

Now it's Jake's turn to look confused, like he's not quite sure where you're heading with this. Again, he shrugs, tossing up his hands. "So? I mean you would have to take some time off, but it's not unrealistic. People do it."

You look at him as if he's suddenly grown two heads. "Jake, you don't just "take time off" to raise a kid. That's not a temporary thing. That's the rest of my life."

Jake crosses his arms, going quiet for a moment before he sighs. "Okay, so quit. It's not like we need the money."

And suddenly everything you thought you'd ever known comes crashing down. There goes your career, your relationship, and the rest of your life. Your heart sinks to rock bottom in your chest because this is not how this was supposed to go. A broken, "What?" is all that escapes your cracked open chest.

Sensing your panic, Jake reaches out, his large, gentle fingers brushing your wrist. His voice is soft. "Look, I know this wasn't in the plans, but that doesn't mean it can't be. We could make it work."

You step back, pulling away from his outstretched hand as if he's burned you. "I can't believe that you would even suggest that," you say, the words 'so quit' ringing in your head. "Do you know how hard I worked to get to where I am right now?!"

Just being in the Navy as a female was hard. Even with going to the academy, the military was a man's world. You had to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of the respect that you deserved. And now to be here, where you are today at Top Gun, you've more than earned it.

Jake sighs heavily, his fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'm not telling you to quit. It was just a suggestion since you seem to think that you can't do both."

It's then that you come to the realization that he doesn't get it. No one gets it.

"I don't think you understand, Jake. I don't fucking want to do it. I don't want to be a mom."

And to that, Jake doesn't say anything. He just stares at you, his usually warm green eyes void of the typical playful gleam that they hold. The two of you stand there in silence for a long time, allowing the the thick blanket of realization to finally settle over you.

"So that's it?" Jake finally asks, his voice sounding closed off and hurt. "I don't even get a say?"

"Don't try to guilt me here, Jake. You knew how I felt about this, and you still married me. So no, you don't get a say."

Jake looks down at his boots, hands braced on his hips as your words process. He swallows, and you know he's fighting the tears in his eyes. "Okay."

"Jake—"

He picks your bag back up from the floor and turns his back towards you, heading for the exit door. "Go do what you have to do, (Y/n). I'll see you at home."

——

When you get back home, Jake is sitting alone at the kitchen table. From the looks of the empty bottle of beer beside him, he's been there for a while. Head in his hands, as if to ward off a headache, he only looks up once you approach the table. His fingers twist at the ring on his left hand.

Quietly, you place the ultrasound prints on the table—face down so that you don't have to look at them. You open your mouth, the words 'six weeks' about to escape, when Jake holds up his hand.

"Don't— (Y/n). Just don't."

You know he's hurt and you understand why. But when it comes down it it, this is your life. No matter how much you love Jake, you aren't going to suffer with a child you don't want to have out of the obligation of your relationship. You cross your arms defensively in front of your chest. "Then what do you want, Jake? Because I don't know what to do," you admit.

Jake stares across the table at you, his gaze unflinching, before his eyes fall to the black and white prints.

"I'm all in, (Y/n). I meant that much when I married you." His fingers tug at the ring on his finger and this time it slips past the knuckle and into his palm. "Either you're in or you're out."

You stare at the golden band and his suddenly bare finger and realize that you hardly remember a time that it wasn't there. With your throat constricting, you look back up to the face of the man that you love.

"Jake," you begin, and your voice breaks as you say his name. "You're asking me to choose between you and my job. That's not fair."

Jake sighs. He sets the ring down on the table and stands up. You watch him with a sinking heart.

"It seems like a pretty easy choice to me," he says finally. "Because I would choose you every time."

The thought hits you that maybe this is you being selfish. You have always been a selfish person, even your mother had always told you so. Was it so selfish to choose yourself—your career—over a hypothetical future? The military was not a kind profession to females who wanted families. You had seen too many women settle for less in their careers because they decided that the timeline of rising in the ranks was too long to wait and they chose to have children instead. A coworker had confessed to you that despite how much she loved her husband and her children, her life ended when she had them.

Realistically, you couldn't have both. Jake knew that. You knew that.

You can't even look Admiral Simpson in the eye when you had him your letter of resignation.

#top gun maverick #topgun maverick #hangman top gun #jake seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #top gun imagine

388 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Text

all that talk is killing me - rafe cameron

request here: Fighter!Pilot!Rafe AU x Sweet!Reader. word count: 6.5K (YIKES) warnings: tooth rooting fluff and rafe being too charming.

There was that god-awful distinct scent of jet fuel in the air, a reminder that you were in one of the Navy’s busiest air bases. The hum of roaring engines wasn’t anything new; it had become a part of your day-to-day existence. The bar you worked at, The Mirage, was a hotspot for pilots, flight crews, and pretty much anyone else who was stationed nearby. A quiet coastal town didn’t offer many options for a social life, and if you wanted to get a cold drink or unwind, The Mirage was the place to be.

You��d been working here for just over a year and a half, long enough to recognize the distinct swagger of a military man when he walked through the door. They were easy to spot – especially the pilots.

Sunglasses permanently glued to their faces, that stupid untouchable arrogance radiating from them, the knowledge that they were some of the best in the world at what they did. It was almost admirable, if it wasn’t so…predictable.

You had sworn off pilots. No, you’d sworn off men in a uniform all together.

It wasn’t like a hard rule or anything, but after what happened with your last boyfriend—who, shocker, also wore a uniform—you weren’t about to make the same mistake twice. You’d learned the hard way that guys like that came with way too much baggage.

Long deployments, their egos inflated to the size of fighter jets, and let’s be real, they weren’t exactly known for being faithful. Military men had a reputation, and in your experience, they earned it. You weren’t about to get your heart broken again.

You’d been there, done that, and had the emotional scars to prove it.

So yeah, working at a bar right next to a Navy air base wasn’t exactly ideal, but you weren’t here for the guys. The Mirage was just a job, a way to pay the bills while you figured your life out. It was a decent gig. Good tips, a steady flow of regulars, and every now and then, you’d get to watch a squadron of cocky, ego-driven fighter pilots try to charm their way into someone’s pants.

Fun to watch, but that was about it.

The first time Rafe walked into The Mirage, you felt it immediately—the shift in the air.

You had your back turned, trying to keep busy wiping down the bar, but you could practically feel his presence as he swaggered up, like the whole place had just taken notice of him at once. Lean and built like he was carved from the side of a mountain, with shoulders that filled out his flight suit just right, and a chest broad enough to make any woman’s heart skip a beat.

And when you finally turned around? He was standing there with that stupid, lopsided grin, a couple of dog tags peeking out from beneath his half-zipped flight suit, the sleeves pushed up like he had zero intention of playing by any rules but his own. He had this ridiculously good-looking, disheveled kind of vibe going on, like he’d just gotten off a jet and didn’t care that his hair was all over the place.

You almost hated how good he looked.

He didn’t even hesitate when he caught your eye. He walked right up to the bar and leaned on it like he owned the place.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, flashing you a panty-dropping smile that probably worked on most girls. “Can I get a beer?”

Sweetheart? Oh God, one of those guys. His voice had that low, southern drawl, smooth as Tennessee whiskey, dripping with charm. It was the kind of voice that could make anything sound like a compliment, even when he was teasing. And the way he leaned on the bar, just a little too close, just a little too familiar, like he’d been doing it his whole life and knew exactly what effect it had—it was almost criminal.

“Sure,” you said, not bothering to match his energy. You grabbed a bottle and slid it across the bar to him, intentionally keeping it short and sweet. You weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of a flirty smile or small talk. Guys like him lived for that.

“Thanks, darling.” He tipped the bottle to you, still grinning like he knew something you didn’t. You sighed, turning back to your work, already half-expecting him to hit on someone else.

But over the next few days, Rafe kept showing up.

Every night, like clockwork, he’d stroll in after his missions with that same laid-back swagger. You noticed how people gravitated toward him, like he had this magnetic pull. His squadron buddies? They idolized him. Girls? Yeah, they fell for him hard, like they didn’t see the giant walking red flag that he was.

But the worst part? He kept coming back to you.

Every time he walked into The Mirage, he’d make a beeline straight for the bar, leaning in with that smirk that was starting to get under your skin.

“You’re not like the other girls around here,” he said one night, lounging across the bar like he was settling in for the night.

So typical it gave you chills. He was a natural-born flirt, and he knew it. He wasn’t subtle; he didn’t have to be.

You snorted. “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“They all like a guy in uniform.” He motioned to his flight suit, like he was showing off. “But you? You don’t seem impressed.”

You met his gaze and deadpanned, “I’m not.”

That should’ve been the end of it. Usually, when you gave guys the cold shoulder, they got the hint. But Rafe? He wasn’t so easily shaken. If anything, your disinterest seemed to make him more determined.

“Gotta say, I like the challenge,” he said, watching you like you were some kind of game he was about to win.

You rolled your eyes, but part of you couldn’t help but laugh. The guy had confidence, that much was clear. But you had to remind yourself why you’d sworn off pilots. This wasn’t your first rodeo. You’d been with a guy like Rafe before. The type who’d make you feel like you were the center of his universe—until you weren’t.

“I don’t date pilots,” you told him flat-out one night after he tried to get cute, leaning closer than necessary over the bar. You were done playing games, and he needed to know it wasn’t happening.

He just raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable for a second before that grin returned. “That a hard rule?”

“Pretty solid, yeah.”

“And why’s that?”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical as hell, “You don’t even know my name.”

He leaned in slightly, that annoying grin never leaving his face as he took a sip of his beer, eyes never leaving yours. “You’re right,” he said casually, placing the bottle back down. “So, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

The audacity. Like his smooth confidence was supposed to melt away all your reservations like you were just another one of his conquests. You could see it so clearly now—the cocky smirk, the way his voice had that low, drawling quality that practically screamed “I get what I want.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head as you wiped down the counter. “I’m not giving you my name, Rafe.”

"But you know mine," He arched a brow, not even remotely phased. “Fair enough. Guess I’ll just have to earn it.”

“Not happening,” you shot back, trying to keep your tone firm.

But you could feel a tiny sliver of amusement creep into your voice despite yourself. He was relentless, and for some stupid reason, it was kind of fun to watch him keep trying.

There was something about a man in uniform that made women lose all sense of reason, and you weren’t about to be that girl again.

And yet, Rafe Cameron kept coming back.

Like a stray, relentless and impossible to ignore. And as much as you tried to play it cool, to not be another notch on his flight log, you couldn’t help but notice how his grin deepened every time you turned him down, like he was getting some kind of kick out of the challenge.

“You really don’t give up, do you?” you asked, throwing him a sideways glance as you refilled a couple of drinks for some regulars down the bar. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time.

He chuckled, that easy confidence still dripping from him. “Not when I see something I like.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, grabbing an empty glass and polishing it to distract yourself. “Well, you’re wasting your time,” you muttered, half-hoping that would be enough to shut him down for good.

But he didn’t take the hint. Instead, he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it feel like the two of you were in on some kind of private conversation.

“Maybe. But something tells me you’re not as immune to my charm as you think.”

That did it.

You turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest, giving him the most unimpressed look you could muster. “I’ve met guys like you before. You roll into town, flash that cocky smile, and think you can get anyone in bed because you’re a hotshot pilot. You’re probably great at what you do, and I’m sure girls throw themselves at you left and right. But I’m not one of them.”

His posture faltered just a little, and you almost—almost—felt bad for bursting his bubble. But then he just laughed, “You really don’t hold back, do you?”

You shrugged, nonchalant, but you could feel a small sense of satisfaction. “Why should I? Guys like you are all the same.”

Rafe leaned back, studying you with a look that was half amused, half intrigued, like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite figure out.

“Nah, I don’t think we are,” he said, almost to himself. “But I guess you’ve got your reasons.”

That hit a little closer to home than you expected, and you felt your defenses kick back in full force. “Yeah, well, they’re good ones.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, his tone softer than before. He tapped his fingers against the bar, like he was considering his next move. “But just so you know, I’m not looking for an easy win here.”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “Oh really? Because everything about you screams ‘I always win.’”

He laughed—more like he was in on a joke that only he understood. “True. But this feels different.”

Different. Sure, like every smooth-talking pilot didn’t say the same thing when they were trying to get a girl to let her guard down. You’d heard it all before.

“Look,” you started, leaning on the bar now, “I’m sure you’re a nice guy when you’re not playing the whole ‘bad boy in uniform’ thing. I’m not about to go down that road again. Especially not with someone who spends more time in the sky than on the ground.”

His eyes stayed on yours, unwavering. “But you don’t know me. Not really.”

“And you don’t know me either,” you shot back, feeling a bit defensive.

“That’s true.” He nodded, but there was a spark in his eyes that made you feel like he was more than ready to change that. “But I’d like to.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Nope.” His grin was back, but this time, it felt less like a game and more like a challenge. Not in the annoying, overconfident way, but in a way that made you almost—almost—want to see how far he’d go. “And I’m willing to take it slow, if that’s what you need.”

You weren’t used to guys like him offering to go slow. In your experience, they wanted everything fast—fast cars, fast planes, fast relationships. The fact that he was even suggesting the idea caught you off guard.

“I don’t need anything from you,” you said, though your voice wasn’t as firm as you wanted it to be.

“I know,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “But maybe you want to give me a shot. Maybe.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if this was some kind of trick. But all you saw was that stupid grin and those frustratingly blue eyes that were starting to chip away at your resolve.

“I’ll think about it,” you muttered, not fully committing but not entirely rejecting him either.

Rafe’s grin widened like he’d just won a small victory. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the drinks you were supposed to be serving, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Damn it.

You weren’t ready to let him in, not yet, but maybe—just maybe—you didn’t mind the idea of him trying.

Because, against your better judgment, you kind of liked the way he made you feel.

Over the next few months, Rafe didn’t just disappear like the others.

He stuck around, but not in the way you expected. At first, you thought he was still working some angle—coming into The Mirage every night, sitting at the bar, chatting you up like he was trying to wear you down. But after a while, something changed. It wasn’t like he was chasing after you anymore. It was more…normal. Friendly, almost.

It started small. He’d ask you about your day, your shift, little things like that. He didn’t push for more. When he wasn’t in the bar, he’d still check in—he’d send these short, goofy texts from time to time. Just little updates, nothing deep.

“Heading out on a mission, don’t burn down the bar while I’m gone.”

Or, when he was away for a while:

“Bet the place is boring without me around, huh?”

It wasn’t anything serious. Just light, casual. And you liked it that way. It was enough to feel like he was there, but not so much that it freaked you out.

Sometimes he’d ask about your life outside of work—how your art classes were going or if you’d gotten your car fixed yet. He never let you walk home alone. You hadn’t expected that from him. Like, when you first met Rafe, you pegged him as the type of guy who only cared about himself. But he’d actually listened to you, remembered stuff you’d said, which was…surprising. And kind of nice.

Still, you kept your guard up. You weren’t about to let him in fully. Not after everything you’d been through before. But you couldn't deny that a part of you enjoyed his company.

One night, about six months in, he came into The Mirage after being away on a longer mission. He looked more exhausted than usual, but his grin was still there as he slid into his usual spot at the bar.

“Miss me?” he teased, tapping the counter as if he’d been gone for a year instead of a few weeks. That flight suit clung to him like a second skin, half-zipped just enough to reveal a sliver of tanned skin and a hint of a tattoo peeking out. The sleeves were rolled up, showing off forearms roped with muscle, veins running down like they were tracing a roadmap to all the trouble he’d been in. His dog tags swung carelessly against his chest, catching the dim light of the bar.

He looked good enough to eat.

“Not even a little,” you shot back with a smirk, pouring him his usual. But the truth was, things had felt kind of off when he wasn’t around.

He took a sip of his beer, watching you closely like he always did. “Sure about that?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

You expected him to throw some cocky line back, but instead, he just chuckled. “You been good?”

It was such a simple question, but there was something in his voice that made you pause for a second. “Yeah,” you answered, nodding. “Same old, same old.”

“Good.” He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention to the rest of the bar.

Everything felt kind of…easy with him now. You didn’t really know how or when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you’d started to see Rafe as more than just a cocky pilot. He was still all of that, sure, but there was more to him than you thought. He wasn’t just the guy who flirted relentlessly; he was the guy who checked in, who listened, who made you laugh when you didn’t even feel like smiling.

It was nice.

That night, The Mirage was packed. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and loud laughter. The usual suspects were there—pilots unwinding, a few locals mixing in, and the occasional sailor trying his luck. You’d been running around non-stop, the orders coming faster than you could keep up. Rafe had disappeared to the bathroom a few minutes ago, and you were focused on getting through the rest of your shift.

That’s when someone came up behind you. You didn’t even see him coming—just felt the sudden press of a hand on your waist, fingers gripping too tight, a body too close. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart picking up speed as you twisted around to see who the hell thought they could just grab you like that.

It was some guy you hadn’t seen before, a stranger with bleary eyes and a stench of cheap whiskey rolling off of him. He leaned in, way too close, his breath hot against your cheek.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he slurred, his hand sliding lower, and you felt your stomach twist.

“Get off me,” you snapped, trying to shove him away, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he grinned, like he thought this was some kind of game.

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he drawled, his other hand moving to grab at your arm, pulling you back toward him.

Panic flared fast in your chest. You tried to twist out of his grip, but he tightened his hold, pulling you closer.

“I said, let go!” you shouted, shoving him harder this time, your voice cutting through the noise of the bar. Your heart was racing now, pounding in your ears.

You glanced around, hoping someone would see what was happening, maybe step in, but everyone seemed too caught up in their own worlds, too fucking drunk to notice.

The guy just laughed, a low, sleazy sound that made your skin crawl. His hand slipped lower, fingers pressing into your hip, and you felt a cold rush of fear. “Just want to have a little fun,” he murmured, his voice thick and rough.

You opened your mouth to scream, to shout for someone, anyone, but before the words could come out, you heard it—the sound of glass shattering. You blinked, confused for a second, and then you saw Rafe.

He was back, and he was livid.

You’d never seen him like this before, eyes dark and wild, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscles twitching. He shoved through the crowd like a storm, fists already balled at his sides, his whole body taut with rage.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, voice low and dangerous, like he was barely holding himself back.

The guy barely had time to turn around before Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him away from you with a force that sent him stumbling back into the bar.

“Get your hands off her,” He spat, his voice like gravel, his eyes blazing.

The guy looked stunned, confused for a moment, before his face twisted into a sneer. “Hey, man, relax—”

But Rafe didn’t let him finish.

“Don’t ‘hey man’ me,” he growled, stepping closer, his hands still clenched into fists. “You touch her again, and I’ll break every bone in your fuckin' hand.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, your pulse racing, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You’d seen him mad before, but this was something else entirely. His whole body was tense, like he was ready to pounce, and there was a look in his eyes that was almost… feral.

The guy seemed to sober up real quick, his eyes flicking nervously between you and Rafe. “Alright, alright, I’m going,” he muttered, hands up in surrender as he backed away, disappearing into the crowd.

Rafe watched him go, his chest heaving, his fists still clenched like he wasn’t quite done yet. He turned to you, his eyes softening a little, but his face still hard, still angry. “You okay?” he asked, his voice rough, breathless.

You nodded, swallowing hard, trying to steady your breathing.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you managed, but your voice was shaky, betraying the fear still thrumming through you.

Rafe stepped closer, his hands reaching out to gently touch your arms, his fingers light against your skin.

“You sure?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, his face so close you could see the worry etched into his features.

You nodded again, feeling a little steadier now, your heart still racing but slowing down, your breath coming easier. “Yeah,” you whispered, “Thanks to you.”

“You don’t have to worry,” he said quietly, “Not with me around. I got you.”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest, and you realized—maybe, just maybe, you were really starting to trust him. And that thought, more than anything, scared you to death.

It's why it felt so hard to be around him from that day on. You were trying to balance between wanting to keep things normal with him and avoiding getting too close. After what happened that night, you were more on edge than ever, and it didn’t help that Rafe was still making his usual appearances, his cute texts and late night calls. His protective streak had only made things more complicated.

��Everything alright?” he asked, his tone casual like he was trying to read between the lines.

You shrugged, “Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

He didn’t buy it. “You seem off. Did something happen?”

“Nothing happened,” you said, a little too quickly. “Just a long night.”

Rafe didn’t push. Instead, he grabbed a drink and started chatting with you about mundane things—the kind of small talk that was meant to fill the space without digging too deep.

He casually mentioned his plans for the weekend, how he was heading out with some friends, making it clear that he was open to other social opportunities.

“Gonna be out of town for a bit,” he said with a shrug, almost as if he was testing the waters. “Thought I’d let you know.”

You looked at him, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Okay.”

He paused, a smirk playing at his lips as if he was waiting for a reaction. “You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tightness in your voice gave you away.

Rafe’s smirk widened, clearly satisfied with the effect he was having. “Just checking. Didn’t know if you were going to miss me or somethin''.”

“I’m sure you’ll manage to find plenty of people who will,” you shot back, grimacing.

He chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, you’re more complicated than I thought.”

“That’s what makes life interesting,”

You finally let yourself admit it—his casual flirtation and the way he seemed to enjoy getting a rise out of you was starting to mess with your head. And that was exactly what he wanted.

So maybe, your petty self, doesn't answer to a single one of his texts while he's away. You figured if he wanted to play the game, you could play it too. It wasn’t like you were avoiding him or anything; you just wanted to make a point.

The first day, you didn’t think much of it. The second day, you told yourself it was no big deal. By the third day, you were trying not to obsess over the fact that your phone hadn’t buzzed with a message from him in the past twenty four hours. Like he'd given up. You kept yourself busy with shifts at The Mirage, catching up on sleep, and even dabbling in a new painting project.

When he finally came back, you were trying to act like it was just another day. You were behind the bar, pouring drinks and chatting away when he walked in.

Rafe’s usual swagger was in full force, but today, there was a hint of weariness in his eyes, like he’d been through the wringer. He slid onto his usual stool and flashed you that same charming grin, but this time, it felt a little more… tentative.

“Hey, stranger."

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, like you hadn’t been avoiding him. You set a beer in front of him and went back to wiping down the bar, giving yourself something to do so you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze.

Rafe took a sip of his beer, “So, you’ve been quiet lately. Everything alrigh'?”

“Just been busy, I guess.”

“Busy or just avoiding me?”

“Why would I be avoiding you?” you chuckled, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’ve been working and catching up on things.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly not buying it. “Did I do something to piss you off?”

Uh, duh. He was making you fall for him. Recklessly.

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’ with a little too much force. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything was not fine, especially not when a girl you'd never seen before decided to eagerly join him on the stool next to his.

You didn’t mean to be staring at them. You really didn’t.

But there she was, practically hanging off Rafe’s arm like some kind of human accessory, her giggle obnoxiously loud over the music in The Mirage. She had this glossy, perfect hair, one of those flirty little dresses that clung to all the right places, and legs for days. And she was touching him. All over. Laughing way too hard at whatever stupid joke he’d just made.

You could feel your stomach twist into a knot, and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why it bothered you so much. It’s not like you hadn’t seen this before—girls throwing themselves at him like he was the last guy on Earth. You’d watched it happen a dozen times. Maybe a hundred.

But today? Today it felt different. Today, it felt like there was a boulder lodged in your chest, and you could barely breathe around it.

God, this was so stupid. You didn’t even like him like that. He was just…a friend. A hot, annoyingly charming friend who maybe made your heart race a little bit every time he walked into the bar. Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were not—repeat, not—catching feelings. You couldn’t be.

Still, your hands were gripping the bar a little tighter than necessary, your smile plastered on your face as you poured drinks for some regulars, trying to pretend you weren’t glancing over at them every five seconds.

But then she had the audacity to look right at you, her big doe eyes blinking innocently, and ask, “Hey, could you get me another drink?”

Your fingers tightened around the beer tap, and you felt a jolt of irritation shoot through you. The girl was practically hanging off his arm, and here she was, smiling at you like you were her personal waitress.

You forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach your eyes, and nodded. “Sure, what do you want?”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, leaning in even closer to Rafe as if she needed to be attached to his hip. “A tequila sunrise, please,” she chirped.

You had to grit your teeth to keep from rolling your eyes. “Coming right up,” you muttered through clenched teeth, turning your back to them as you reached for the tequila.

You could feel Rafe’s gaze burning into the back of your head, could practically hear the smirk in his voice without even looking. He was loving this. Watching you squirm, seeing you get all pissy while he played the charming flirt. God, he was such an asshole.

“Here you go,” you said, managing to keep your voice steady.

She beamed up at you, completely oblivious, and took a sip. “Thanks! You’re the best.”

He looked like he was having the time of his life. That stupid grin plastered on his face, his blue eyes sparkling as he leaned in close to hear whatever the girl was saying. And she was soaking it all up, practically melting into him, flipping her hair like she was auditioning for a shampoo commercial.

You felt this weird, hot sting in the back of your eyes and immediately blinked it away. Oh, hell no. You were not going to cry over this. Over him. No way.

But it was getting harder to hold it all together. You turned away, busied yourself with wiping down the counter, anything to stop looking at them.

And then it happened.

He looked over at you.

Just a quick glance, but enough to catch your eye. Enough to let you know that he knew you were watching. And damn it if he didn’t look like he was enjoying every second of it.

That did it. You felt the flush of heat creep up your neck, the anger boiling under your skin. You slammed a glass down a little harder than you meant to and mumbled something about taking a break.

“Hey, you okay?” one of your coworkers called after you, but you were already pushing through the back door, needing some fresh air, some space to get your head straight.

You ended up in the alleyway behind The Mirage, your back against the cool brick wall, eyes squeezed shut as you tried to keep it together. You felt so stupid, so ridiculous for even letting this get to you. He wasn’t yours. He was just…Rafe. And you were just you, the girl who’d sworn off guys like him a million times.

But it hurt. Way more than you wanted to admit. And before you knew it, a tear slipped down your cheek. You quickly swiped it away, cursing under your breath.

And that’s when you heard it—the creak of the door swinging open, footsteps on the gravel.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Of course he followed you. Of course he did.

“What’s this?” Rafe’s voice was teasing, that familiar low drawl that usually made your heart flutter, but right now it just grated on your nerves. “Are you crying?”

You scoffed, keeping your back turned, hoping he’d take the hint and leave you alone. “No. Just…got something in my eye.”

“Sure you did.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, that stupid, smug grin that he always wore like some kind of armor. “You jealous or something, sweetheart?”

God, he was such an ass. “No,” you snapped, turning to glare at him. “Why would I be jealous? You can flirt with whoever you want. I don’t care.”

He stepped closer, still grinning like he’d won something. “Really? ‘Cause you looked pretty pissed back there.”

You felt another tear threatening to fall, and you bit down hard on your lip, willing it to stop. “I’m not pissed,” you lied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Just…busy. And you’re distracting.”

Rafe laughed softly, and you wanted to smack that grin off his face. “Distracting, huh?”

He was closer now, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body, and it just made everything worse.

“I’m serious,” you said, your voice shaking just a little. “Just…leave me alone."

But of course, he didn’t. Instead, he took another step closer, reaching out to tilt your chin up so you had to look at him. His thumb brushed against your jaw, and you hated how good it felt, how much you wanted to lean into his touch even though you were mad as hell.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, all teasing gone. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

You sniffed, trying to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you. His grip was gentle but firm, and for some stupid reason, that only made the tears come faster.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled, hating how weak you sounded. “Just…go back to your fan club, okay?”

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you saw something there, something that wasn’t just amusement. “Fan club?” he echoed, his brow furrowing slightly.

“You mean that girl?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah. That girl. You seemed pretty into her.”

He let out a low chuckle, but it wasn’t mocking. It was almost…gentle. “Sweetheart, you think I’m interested in her?”

You blinked, not trusting yourself to speak, so you just shrugged.

Rafe shook his head, his thumb still brushing your cheek. “Nah. I’m not. I was just…” He paused, a grin tugging at his lips. “I was just waiting to see how long it’d take you to get jealous.”

Your mouth dropped open. “You—what?”

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “Oh, C'mon. You think I didn’t notice the way you were glaring at her? You looked like you wanted to rip her hair out.”

“I did not,” you protested, but the redness in your cheeks betrayed you.

Rafe’s grin widened. “Yeah, you did. And I gotta admit…kinda hot seeing ya all riled up over me, sugar.”

“Shut up,” you muttered, but there was no heat in your voice now. It was hard to stay mad when he was looking at you like that, like you were the only person in the world.

He laughed softly, but then his expression softened, and he cupped your face with both hands, pulling you closer. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and serious now. “For the record, there’s no one else. Just you, okay?”

Your heart did a stupid little flip at his words, and you wanted to be mad, you really did. But instead, you just felt relief flood through you.

“Okay,” you whispered, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, his lips pressing against your forehead, his hands wrapping around you like he was never letting go.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t care, you know,” he murmured against your hair. “I kind of like that you do.”

You sighed, finally letting yourself lean into him, burying your face in his chest. “I hate you,” you mumbled, but your arms were wrapping around him all the same.

He chuckled, pulling you even closer. “Nah, you don’t.”

And damn it, he was right.

Then, you shifted back a little, looking up at him. His face was closer than you’d realized, his breath warm against your skin. You could see every fleck of gold in his eyes, the way his lips curved slightly like he was trying not to smile too much.

"You’re an asshole, y'know that?" you whispered, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to.

He laughed, a low rumble that you felt in your chest more than heard. "Yeah. But you kinda like that about me, don't ya?"

There was no hiding the grin tugging at your lips. "You think you’re so charming."

"That's 'cause I am," he shot back, but his voice had this low, husky tone to it now. His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there a beat too long. You could feel your heart speeding up. It was like everything slowed down in that moment.

Before you could overthink it, he leaned in. Slowly, like he was giving you a chance to pull away, his eyes locked on yours, searching, waiting for any sign that you didn’t want this. But you did. More than anything, you wanted this.

So, you didn’t move. You let him come closer, closer until you could feel the warmth of his lips brushing against yours, so light at first it was barely there. A soft, testing touch, like he was still making sure this was okay. And then, when you didn’t pull back, he pressed his lips fully to yours.

It was gentle at first, careful, his hands still cupping your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks like he was memorizing every inch of you. You could taste the faint hint of beer on his lips, feel the scratch of his stubble against your skin, you felt something sweet, something that was just him.

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, but then something in you snapped. You sighed against his mouth, a soft, involuntary sound, and that was all it took for him to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, asking for permission, and you granted it without thinking, opening to him, meeting him halfway.

All the tension, all the months of pretending you didn’t feel anything, it all spilled out at once. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your fingers threading through his hair, deepening the kiss.

Rafe groaned softly, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. And you kissed him back just as fiercely, letting yourself feel every bit of it. When you broke apart for just a second, gasping for air, but he didn’t go far. His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm, his eyes dark and intense, like he was seeing straight through you.

"God," he whispered, his voice ragged, "I’ve wanted to do that for so long."

You didn’t even have time to say something before he captured your mouth again, this time slower, deeper, like he wanted to savor every second. His hands were everywhere now—one in your hair, the other sliding down to the small of your back, holding you like he was never going to let go.

You broke apart again, both of you panting, his forehead pressed against yours. “Fuck,” he breathed out, a smile spreading across his face. "You sure you don't hate me?"

You laughed, breathless, your heart hammering against your ribs. "Maybe just a little," you teased, but there was no hiding the smile that was stretching across your face, the way your fingers still tangled in his hair, like you couldn’t let go.

He chuckled, leaning in to steal another quick kiss, softer this time, sweet and playful. "Well, I can live with that." he murmured against your lips.

And as he kissed you again, you realized that maybe you could, too.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron au #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fic #pilot!rafe #topgun!rafe #top gun maverick #hangman!rafe #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #fluff #he's down bad #itneverendshere works✨

332 notes · View notes

simplyundeniable98 · 4 months ago

Text

I need you now *Bradley Bradshaw*

Pairing - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female!reader

Warnings - angst angst angst, arguing, explicit language, Reader has a hard time expressing her emotions, yearning, smutttttttt, mdni or so help me, makeup sex ofc, breeding kink 😏, Bradley LOVES his wife, lots of petnames, brief mention of pregnancy (rooster is so dad sue me), talk of death, mentions of the uranium mission, this timeline isn’t the most accurate, prob some incorrect navy talk, also bradley’s a captain in this instead of a lieutenant commander because captain just rolls off the tongue a little better yk.

Word Count - 5.2k

-This is LOOSELY based around the song "I need you now" by Lady Antebellum.

First Rooster fic, kinda nervous.

Mornings in the Bradshaw house when he was home were your favorite part of the day. Nothing beat waking up next to Bradley clinging to you like a koala. All six foot and then some clinging to every inch of skin that was left uncovered.

Usually, you were woken up to kisses being pressed to every surface he could reach. Your body was his canvas and he vowed to not let any of it stay untouched. The course hairs of his mustache raking across your soft skin rousing you from your slumber. Sleepy smiles and tender touches shared in the intimate moments of the morning before having to begrudgingly start the days activities.

This morning had been different. Bradley had gotten a call in the early spouts of the morning for an emergency briefing that had him rushing out of bed and onto base with nothing other then a note that read

"Be back later, love you sweetheart"- Roo

The bed was cold. That was the first thing you noticed as you blinked awake. Your human heater was nowhere to be found and tender kisses had yet to be given.

The note on the counter had etched a frown on your face the moment you picked it up. Bradley had gotten back from a three month deployment only four weeks ago and you missed him. God you missed him.

Although he had been home for four weeks your time with him still felt limited. He was so busy now that he had jumped rank and started as an instructor back at Top Gun. The added stress of making sure his pilots were safe in the air as well as himself had taken a toll on your husband.

Bradley loved you. You knew that. The picture of the two of you at your wedding had stayed put in the cockpit of his plane. The now frayed edges of the picture from being stashed in his helmet, clutched in nervous palms, and pinned to the instrument panel of his cockpit were a constant reminder that he had you to come home to.

You were his life. You were his sun. The force of gravity pulling him towards you had never faltered. His love for you ran deep in his bones and had since the first day he saw you.

But he is only human. And as expected, he makes mistakes. He forgets to kiss you before he leaves in a hurry. He forgets to do the sink of dishes that you had asked him to do two days ago. He is passionate and feels so much all at once. His determination and dedication to his career is a quality you love about Bradley. His commitment to the Navy was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place.

"Bradley you just got back, tell me you are joking" You say exasperated as you throw your head back.

Bradley had been ordered an emergency deployment for tomorrow morning. It was non-negotiable. Uncle Sam doesnt like to wait and you knew that. It didnt make things easier of course.

"Im sorry honey. Its an important mission and Warlock doesnt trust anyone else to do it." His voice was quiet yet so loud in the silence of your living room.

You could feel the tears start to burn your eyelids. The deep ache in your chest that always manifested when he had to leave like this. You just got him back.

"I never get to see you anymore Roo. I feel like im living on borrowed time." Your voice was starting to raise an octave. The emotions you were feeling were quickly transpiring into anger despite feeling the exact opposite.

" Im alone!" You threw your hand up in the air " I know its your career and I love you for how passionate you are about your career but this is ridiculous." You were yelling now.

Bradley shook his head and raised his palms to cover his eyes.

"Baby please not tonight." He sounded stressed. This was the last thing he wanted the night before he left. He was set to be gone for 3 weeks.

"Then when Bradley? Because its getting old. Im tired of having to love you from afar." You were crying now. A steady stream of tears now running down your face that set alarms off in Bradleys head. You were crying because of him. His girl.

"Sweetheart its three weeks, its not that big of a deal" He closed in on you grabbing your face between two calloused palms. The rough pads of his thumbs carelessly wiping away calculated tears in their path.

You scoffed and step out of his hold shrugging him off. You ignored the pang in your chest as his face dropped slightly.

"Babe seriously calm down" He was starting to get frustrated now. When he got the news earlier today he had expected the night to go a completely different direction.

He wanted to press you into the sheets and draw out those pretty noises he loves. He wanted to show you how much he loved you. Give you a proper goodbye before he was out on boat in the middle of the pacific.

"Calm down? Dont tell me to calm down Bradley. I cant do this" You were overreacting now. You could feel it. You were in too deep. The worry you felt in your chest had blossomed into something ugly and it was too late to back down now.

"Cant do what? This is ridiculous honey can we please just go to bed." His voice was raised now. The temper the two of you had shared was rearing its ugly head as you teeter on saying things you know you both dont mean.

"I need time Bradley." and that was the truth. You needed time to understand the emotions that were rushing through your body. You had finally got him back. Your Bradley. And now he was being shipped off again except this was another dangerous mission.The close call from the uranium mission had planted something ugly deep inside you. There was a chance you weren’t getting him back this time.Your Bradley. Just the thought had the blood rushing to your skull and your vision going blurry.

He was the love of your life. Losing him was out of the question. You had gotten so lucky when he came back in one piece on that F-14. How could you ever live peacefully knowing that the luck may not find him again?

"Time? You need time? I hate to break it to you but thats all your about to have." Bradley winced as soon as it left his mouth. He didnt mean to sound so mean. He knows exactly whats going on in that pretty little head of yours.

He knows you. His girl. He knows that the anger you’re feeling comes from a place of love and worry for him. Knowing it however doesn't ease the irritation thats starting to pool at the base of his spine.

You let out a sound thats halfway a laugh and halfway a sob as you tread towards your shared bedroom. How did the night end like this? How did you manage to let your emotions take over and ruin the last night you will have together in a month.

Bradley followed behind you as he leaned against the doorframe to watch you slam open his drawers in a haste. You may be mad at him but hes still your husband that you love endlessly, you had always helped him pack and nothing would change tonight.

He would give you your space. If thats what you needed then thats what youll get. If you asked Bradley to jump he would ask how high. Thats just how he was.

The two of you silently worked your way through the bedroom getting together everything he would need in his three weeks away. You were too stubborn to back down and Bradley knew you well enough to know to let you work it out on your own.

You had always been supportive of his career. There was never a moment where you thought that your husband being a naval aviator was anything less then a blessing. You were only human. You have human emotions and worries. It just so happens that you have a hard time regulating those emotions into words. Even though you hadnt comprehended it yet, this argument truly did stem from a place of love.

Bradley was your bestfriend. Being away from him on its own set your heart on fire and the added anxiety of knowing he could be in danger set your emotions into overdrive.

The two of you still had not said a word as you mindlessly got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. He said nothing as he pulled you to his chest and buried his face into your hair.

You said nothing as the tears you had been holding back finally fell as he handled you with so much tenderness. He was always so gentle with you. Even after you blew up on him about something you know he cannot help.

You fell in love with an aviator pilot. Deployments were part of the contract. In the six years that you had been with Bradley he had been deployed seven times. You were by no means a stranger to the game. It just felt different now. He had barely come back last time.

He pressed tender kisses to the top of your hair as you drifted off in his arms. Careful whispers of apologies and praise spoken into the silence of your shared bedroom because he would never understand what it would be like to be in your shoes. It would crush him if he knew you were in danger and away for weeks at a time.

Bradley had given you everything. He had given you every ounce of love he could possibly manage. He had given you every ounce of his attention that wasnt directed towards his career. But more importantly Bradley had given you grace. You were human. And it was times like these that he had learned to love the flaws you carried.

The hurt and fear that transpired into anger tonight was only an indication that you loved him. Your clipped words and hushed tears were only an indication that you worried for him. So yes, he would give you time. He would give you all the time in the world if that what you needed. His girl.

Bradley had slipped out that morning with a kiss on your head goodbye and a whisper of an I love you before he headed to the docks. Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do. He wanted to turn around and crawl back into bed and kiss your worries away. His heart was heavy as he stood on the deck watching the boat pull farther away from the dock.

The days without Bradley home seemed to be even harder this go around. Maybe it was the fact that he had little to no service this time or maybe it was the disruption you had caused before you left.

You hadnt been able to call him. There wasnt much service in the middle of the ocean anyways but Bradley had been working almost every second that he was there.

Rooster was worked to the bone. When it wasn’t one thing it was another. Every second he was in the air his mind was on you. Every close call the only thing he saw was your face. Every time his fist slammed down on the red button to his left he heard your sweet voice telling him you loved him. He couldn’t wait until he could hear it again.

The photobook weighed heavy in your hands as you sat down on your bed. This had become routine now. Looking at photos and memories helped ease the ache of him not being home.

You smiled to yourself after turning the first page. It was a picture of you and Bradley not long after you had met. He had just finished his second year at topgun and the two of you were at another aviators new year’s eve party.

The pictured had captured you leaning your head back as Bradley held the shooter of tequila between his teeth to pour into your open mouth. His hand cradled the back of your head supporting you from falling.

You turned the page again and this time the picture was much sweeter. You sat perched on Roosters lap as he sat on the piano bench at the Hard Deck. The veins in his neck were prominent as he sang and your head was tilted back in a laugh.

You sucked in a deep breath closing the book. You turned to look at the clock that resided on Bradleys bedside table. A quarter after one. It was rounding about evening time for Rooster right now as you debated calling him. There was a chance he was too busy to answer. You wanted to hear his voice so bad. You chewed your thumbnail as you stared at the phone laying in front of you.

You huffed and reached for it unable to fight it any longer. You hastily pressed his contact and nervously brought the phone to your ear.

Every ring of the phone felt like a stab in the chest. What if he didnt want to talk to you? What if he finally decided that he had had enough?

"Hey sweetheart" His gravely voice rang through your speaker effectively causing all of your worries to cease.

"Bradley" You gasped in relief. Relief that he was okay. That he wanted to talk to you.

"Baby" He cooed. You could feel the adoration through the phone. You could cry.

"I need you Roo. Im all alone and I need you now" You were crying now. Rushed gasps of breath and choked sobs that you fought to keep down.

"Take a deep breath honey. I know, I know." Bradley fought to keep the hurt from showing through his voice but it was nearly impossible when you sound so desperate for him.

"Im so sorry Bradley. I was so mean. I didnt-" You fought for a breath as you try to calm yourself.

"I didnt mean it. I was just so worried about you and I miss you so much all the time." You cry to him. Hearing his voice opened the floodgates and this next week until he came home couldnt come faster.

"I know baby. Its okay, I know." He cleared his throat pushing back tears that were fighting to surface. "I love you. I love everything that comes with you. Im not mad honey, I miss you" He reassured you. Just like he always did. Your Bradley.

"Tell me about your week honey" He spoke softly. Bradley always had a way of making everything better. All of your worries and doubts simply melted away at the hands of your husband.

The west coast sun had done nothing to ease your nerves as it blared down onto the smooth stretch of concrete that held hundreds of families and spouses eagerly waiting for their loved one to return.

He was coming home today. After three weeks of waiting, today was the day. Realistically you knew that this deployment was one of the easier ones. You and Rooster had been separated for six months at a time, so what’s three weeks?

The pale blue sundress you were wearing (with the knowledge that it was Bradley’s favorite of course) helped to ease the feeling of being suffocated in the California heat. Your insides were practically buzzing. You couldn’t wait to get ahold of him. The past week was spent with limited phone calls and promises whispered into the other end of the phone.

The sound of clapping startled you out of your thoughts as you looked towards the water from inside the car. The carrier was barely in view as it inched toward the dock

At the sight of the carrier, you put Bradley’s bronco in park, locked it up and made your way closer. After all this time, Rooster always knew how to find you through the crowd.

It took awhile to find him in the sea of flight suits and reuniting families but when you did he was unmistakable. His long legs carried him quicker and he reached you in about 4 strides.

Wasting no time you threw yourself at him. His bag dropped to the ground to catch you and he didn’t even budge from the force of your weight. He inhaled a sharp breath now that he finally had you back in his arms.

Bradley had missed you. The argument the two of you left on weighed heavy on his mind. Countless nights spent on his navy issued mattress worried about you. What if you didn’t want to be with him anymore? What if the time away made you realize you deserve more?

You turned your head to press kisses against his warm cheek. Bradley was sunkissed before but after being against the pacific for weeks he was especially tan.

“I missed you so much” and you did. More than he could imagine.

Bradley could barely keep his hands off you as you walked to the bronco. They were everywhere he could reach. You were far from complaining though, you could barely keep your hands from lingering as well.

Rooster pressed a kiss to your lips before opening the passenger door for you before getting into the drivers seat himself.

He hummed and tapped the steering wheel before settling in with his hand on your thigh.

The ten minute drive to yours and Bradleys shared condo had never felt farther as his hand drug up and down your exposed thigh. Your skin felt like it was on fire as you drug your fingertips up and down his forearm that was reached out towards you.

Energy was buzzing through the both of you. Unsaid words and hushed promises were transpiring into so much more. The tension between the two of you was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Bradley said nothing as he pulled onto the street you lived on. He missed this. His neighbors tire swing hanging from the oak that hes pretty sure has been there since before he was born. Your throughly decorated porch covered in flowers and the porch swing he made you two summer's ago.

"Cmere" He mumbled after the car was in park. In seconds his strong hands were grabbing and pulling you onto his lap. His hands were on you immedietly. Both of them coming to rest on top of your thighs.

You immedietly feel at home on his lap. That peice of you that felt missing had found home when you wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring the two of you impossibly closer.

His lips were on yours in an instant and immediately you felt like you could breathe again. His kiss was gentle and unforgiving all at the same time. It was almost difficult to keep up.

Noticing your reaction he couldn’t help but smirk into the kiss. He always knew exactly how to play his cards. Every spot and trick to make you putty in his hands. He grabbed at your thighs and pulled you towards him.

The rough bulge of his flight suit was rubbing you oh so deliciously and if he wasn’t careful the two of you were going to get a public indecency charge here soon if you didn’t move from the driveway.

Reluctantly, you pulled away. Still cautious of the steering wheel pressing against your spine you climbed off of him. The last thing you needed was to honk the horn and alert the neighbors of yours and Bradley’s less then decent escapades.

Fuck. You missed him.

He pushed you onto the bed, crawling on all fours as he hovered over your body with that wide grin you love so much plastered to his face.

His lips began trailing down your abdomen sending chills running up and down your spine with every breathy kiss, every drag of his mustache against your skin. With a skillful hand, he reached behind you to untie the bow that sat in the middle of your back, sitting up as he pulled it off of you. He hooked two fingers into the crotch of your underwear, shoving them out of the way as he ducked his head between your thighs. Feather-light kisses dotted your inner thighs before his mouth finally found you. He flattened his tongue against your slit, running it up your folds slowly as he savoured everything he’d missed out on for the last three and a half weeks.

“God, I missed you so much honey. Fuck”

His fingers spread your folds apart, giving him better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue traced shapes along it, the tip of his nose pressing into your puffy cunt, swollen from how badly you’d been wanting him. He mumbled something against your skin, his lips vibrating against your clit as he pressed another kiss to you.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your loud moans and the lewd sounds coming from between your legs. Bradley’s tongue was now prodding against your entrance, teasing you relentlessly. You found it hard to breathe as cry after cry left you. Slowly, your high began building. When two of your husband’s thick fingers pushed inside your weeping cunt, your back arched so hard off the bed, Bradley had to pause to make sure you were okay. He cooed at you pressing a kiss to your thigh before returning to the task at hand. The smirk on his face told you that his sympathy was anything but.

Bradley was relentless. His thick fingers stretched you open deliciously, making a scissoring motion as he licked around your greedy hole. Crying out, your heels dug further into Bradley’s back and you pulled hard at the brown curls that resided on the top of his head. You were pulling so hard you could have swore it was hurting him. Instead, he groaned and began slurping harder. Within seconds, you were gushing around his fingers. Your ears were ringing and you could feel your heartbeat everywhere.

He kissed the skin of your stomach as he slowly fucked you through your high, breathy praises leaving his lips as he stared up at you. “Good girl,” he murmured, placing an open mouthed kiss to your ribcage before hovering back over you. “So pretty honey”.

You moan against his mouth when he kisses you hard, his mustache pricking the skin above your upper lip in the best way. “Bradley, please,” you beg against his lips. “Please, fuck me. I need it. I miss you.”

The groan he let out shot straight to your core as pulls away to unzip his flight suit. He practically throws it to the floor along with the rest of his clothes before he’s back on top of you pressing in between your spread thighs, his mouth is pressing open mouthed kisses all over your collarbones and shoulders leaving goosebumps in his wake. “I need it, too,” he confessed, settling in between your legs and pushing his tip to slide against your swollen clit. “I need you all the time. Think about you every second i’m gone baby”

Your lips were puffy as his met them in a searing kiss before slipping inside you with a sharp thrust. Moaning against his mouth, you wrap your legs tightly around him digging your heels into the base of his spine and grip either side of his ribcage to pull him impossible closer to you.

He wasn’t in a rush, wasn’t fucking you quick and hard like you usually liked it. He was taking his time,pushing into you with such passion it left you breathless, aching for more but feeling overwhelmed all at the same time. He was loving on you in all the ways he could have been , should have been the last three weeks. Hell, in the last four months. He had taken this for granted.

Your velvety walls noisily suck him in deeper with each deep thrust he gives you, your previous orgasm providing him with all he needed to fuck into you hard and slow. The noises the two of you had come together to make were border lining pornographic.

Bradley’s eyes make their way downwards so he can watch the way your pussy sucked in his cock every time his hips met yours. “Fuck, look at you,” he said, more to himself than to you. “Taking me so well baby, aren’t you?”

“I love you. Fuck Bradley I love you” You finally manage to gasp out. Bradley fucked you good every time but you were damn near speechless as you rocked into you. He wasn’t just fucking you this time. No he was making love to you. He was showing you just how much he loves you with every piston of his hips into yours. Every glide of his cock against your greedy walls was a promise.

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to hold back for him. You knew you were close already. It was dancing around the borders of your perception, melting in your blood, burning in your gut, and you could feel it, had been feeling it.

"God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much." Bradley was babbling now as he pressed his swollen lips to yours.

"Missed you too, Bradley. So much", you moaned against his lips, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, baby, you are", he groaned. "So good for me. Perfect. My girl."

“Bradley god-“ you gasped out. White was starting to flood your vision with each slow drag of his cock against your velvety walls. His cock grazed past that spongy part of you and he knew he found what he was looking for when you gasped and clenched down on him.

“I’m so close don’t stop” You whined high and breathy. There it was. Those pretty noises Bradley loved so much.

“Yeah? Me too baby.” He finished his sentence with another sharp thrust. “Gonna fill you up hmm?”

His pace never faltered “Gonna get you pregnant. Give you a baby to keep you company while i’m away. Is that what you want pretty girl?”

“Yes. God yes.” His words making you tip over the edge. You felt like you were on fire as a breathless pleasepleaseplease tumbled out of your gasping lips.

Bradley’s hips stuttered as you clenched down on him. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice. He was a vision with his head thrown back and mouth hung open in a guttural groan.

“Fuck” He rasped as he painted your insides keeping himself in the deepest part of you.

You winced as he slowly pulled out, not letting any of it go to waste. He was serious about his promise. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing you carry his baby. Bradley pressed chaste kisses along your neck before reaching your lips and pressing one there.

The slow drag of his tongue along yours had you whimpering before he got up to fetch a towel leaving you absolutely spent and tangled in the sheets.

He was gentle as he carefully wiped you down before pressing a kiss to the spot above your pubic bone. He quickly got comfortable and pulled you close tangling your legs together.

“I love you” He hummed into your hair pressing kisses to the top of your head. You smiled and pressed yourself closer to him.

“I love you Bradley” You replied before putting distance between the two of you to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted” You truly were. Your emotions got the best of you and instead of talking about it, you took it out on him. Your Bradley. He was the last person you should worry about not understanding. He always treated you with so much respect. So much tenderness.

“I think I just got overwhelmed. Usually it doesn’t bother me but this time with your deployments so close together and after what had happened to you…I didn’t know how to react” Your voice was quiet as you finally let him in. It’s what you should have done a long time ago.

“Honey, why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley questioned. You were his girl. You were supposed to be able to tell him anything.

“I didn’t want you to be worried.” You glanced up at him shyly with a small smile on your face. “You’ve just got so much going on at work and the last thing I want is for you to think I don’t support you. Because I do. I really do” You place a kiss to his lips.

“I love that you are so passionate about your job and i trust your abilities as a pilot to come home to me. It’s just that sometimes I get worried you won’t come home from something that you can’t control.” There were tears streaming down your face now that Bradley was steadily wiping away.

“After that uranium mission, it’s just been different ya know?” You sniffled as Bradley nodded along.

“It made it so much more real. The thought of you not coming home…” You paused squeezing your eyes shut and inhaling sharply.

“Baby…” Bradley cooed. He propped himself up on his elbow to look down at you and brought his hand up to cup your cheek.

“I can’t promise you I’m gonna come home every time” He wiped away the tears that fell at his words.

“But I can promise you I’m gonna fight like hell to come back to you every time.” He pressed a kiss to your lips.

“I can promise you that every time i’m in the air, I’m thinking of you.” You let out another choked sob at his confession and he silenced you with another kiss.

“I need you to tell me when you feel like this baby. So i can be there for you. I don’t know what it’s like to be you honey but I can sure as hell do my best to make it better.” God he was perfect. You truly believed Bradley Bradshaw was sent down from the angels himself. You silently thanked Carol in Heaven for her god sent parenting.

“I love you.” You finally spoke after some time. You pressed a kiss to the scar on his shoulder, and another one to the scar that went across his neck, making your way up to the one that adorned his cheek, and finally one to his kiss swollen lips.

“So you’re tryna knock me up huh?” You questioned with a laugh lightening the mood. You felt Bradley twitch against your thigh as he groaned and pressed his face in your neck.

“Yeah but i’m not sure this one stuck, I think I need to try again.” You giggled as he rolled on top of you making it hard to breathe as you support his weight.

“I think you’re right Captain, let’s try again for good measures”

#bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #topgun fanfiction #top gun maverick

319 notes · View notes

risriswrites · 2 years ago

Text

Just Roommates

summary: a series of moments between bradley bradshaw and his roommate that prove they're a little more than "just roommates"

pairing: roommate x bradley bradshaw, fem reader

warnings: none, just some mild language and lots of fluff

author's note: this is my second fic and i just wanted to say thank you all for the love on the first one! it made my heart happy :) likes, comments, and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

word count: 9.1k

“Okay but hear me out. What if we painted the living room wall a pale green?” you question, gesturing to the beige wall directly across from you with a spoon, that was once being used for your bowl of cereal; which had been discarded five minutes prior in favor of the sudden inspiration to revamp the living room.

Tilting your head to the side you allow your eyes to wander the length of the wall before adding, “Not like a pastel green but more like a sage green. I think it’d compliment the couch…and the wood floors.”

Bradley was leaning in the doorframe of the hallway that led to your separate bedrooms, arms crossed over themselves and letting his eyes trail over the way you’ve perched yourself onto the granite kitchen island, one leg crossed over the other.

It was a Saturday morning, so it didn’t surprise him that you’d foregone pants and settled on an oversized t-shirt, really short shorts, and fuzzy socks. You always complained about how you couldn’t sleep if it was too hot, so he made sure to keep the thermostat at a comfortable 70 degrees, but as soon as you woke up, you’d be freezing and needed socks to keep your feet warm. He’d never understand it.

Dragging his eyes away from you he lazily glanced at the wall of the living room. Honestly, he was fine with the way it was, but he wasn’t an interior decorator, so his opinion didn’t really count for anything in the name of “design”.

“I don’t think it really matters” he shrugs, letting his eyes wander back over to you. Your hair was still a little messy from sleeping, but in way he found oddly, cute.

A huff slips past your lips as you slide off the counter and move to wash the bowl you’d been using, “Bradley, the apartment could use a little bit of color. It’s kind of bland in here,” you grimace, sparing him a quick glance before resuming your assault on the navy-blue bowl.

Sighing, Bradley pushes himself off the doorframe in favor of moving to the granite island you’d been sitting on a few moments ago, “Well, you pay for half of the apartment, so whatever you think will make the place look decent that’s up to you.”

“That’s not how decisions work between roommates, Bradley. We have to both agree with it,” you mutter.

Shaking your head you force a breath out, “Look, we can talk about it later if you want, it’s not a big deal. We can always meet in the middle and bring in a plant or something instead? You keep the neutrality of the apartment, and I can have some greenery to look at.” you negotiate, all while wiping your hands on the hand towel hanging across the bar of the oven, shooting him an awkward smile, doing your best to not glance at his naked chest.

He forces his own smile back at you and nods his head the tiniest bit to let you know he’d think about it.

With that conversation ending you decide to leave Bradley to his thoughts in favor of snuggling into the couch for some warmth and an excuse to binge watch “The Witcher”.

You and Bradley had been living together for a little over a month, having been introduced to each other through your friend Jamie.

Jamie was a landing signal officer for the navy that you had met while you were in college. He was just getting his associates degree to pass the time while he worked on achieving all of the necessary credentials to start training in the navy, and once he graduated, was stationed out in Miramar. He had worked alongside Bradley during a few different missions and had kept in contact with him over the past few years. The two were close enough that Bradley valued Jamie’s feedback and opinion, so when Bradley came to him with his roommate dilemma, he knew the perfect person to recommend.

Based on your first meeting alone you liked Bradley. He was well mannered, reserved, and yet, still had a certain rugged charm to him. And now you were here, laying on the gray couch you had convinced Bradley would look perfect in the small living space, snuggled under a knitted blanket from your grandma, as Bradley fixed himself a cup of coffee.

“I’m going to go out for a run in ten minutes, do you need anything while I’m out?” Bradley called out to you.

You tilted your head back to look at him from the throw pillow you were currently laying on, “No thanks I’m good,” you smiled, quickly turning back to your show, successfully avoiding gawking at your roommate as he maneuvered around your shared kitchen.

Ten minutes came and went, and you never heard Bradley leave the house. Crinkling your eyebrows, you sit up from your spot on the couch and peer back into the kitchen to check if Bradley had snuck out without you noticing. Only to see him sat on a barstool at the kitchen island, one arm leaning on the long piece of granite and the other holding his coffee mug in his hand, casually sipping at the hot beverage while his eyes were glued to the tv screen.

A smirk grows on your lips, “Going for a run, huh?”

Bradley’s gaze breaks from the tv screen and snaps to you, his eyebrows pinching together as he shoots you a playful glare, mumbling into his mug, “I’m about to leave.”

“Sure, you are” you snort.

Silence ensues as you continue to smirk at him and he glares at you, before finally he breaks.

“Alright fine,” he huffs, “One episode, and then I’m going for a run.”

You turn back to the tv with a knowing smile on your face before getting comfortable under your blanket again.

Bradley stays put at the kitchen island for the next episode, but once you’ve started the second, he’s gravitated to sitting on the arm of the couch.

You glance over at him every now and then, smirk growing larger with every minute he continues to sit and not leave to go for his run, too enraptured in the show currently playing on your shared tv screen.

Grasping the remote in your hand you pause the show, turning you head and quirking an eyebrow at him, “Soo…still going for that run?”

Bradley huffs and throws his head back groaning, “I need to.”

You stay in your position allowing yourself to let your gaze roll over the scars that litter his neck and along his cheek. Seeing the war waging on in his brain you decide to make it easy for him, “How about you go on that run, and I’ll just pause it until you get back? It’s on Netflix so it’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” You smile.

Bradley turns to face you, moving his arms behind him to rest on the couch, further exposing his naked chest, “You sure? I don’t wanna make you wait to finish the episode.”

You push aside any thoughts about how hot he looks right now and instead focus on his honey brown eyes, letting your smile turn into an easy smirk, “I’ll be okay Bradshaw, I’m a big girl I can wait one hour for you to finish your run.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow while leaning towards you a little bit, letting his tongue poke out to swipe across his lips before he fixes you with a sarcastic smile of his own, “Sweetheart, it’s cute you think that it’s gonna take me that longto go on a three-mile run.”

And with that statement being put out in the air, he’s moving off the couch and heading towards the door, passing the water bottle he set out earlier.

Momentarily dazed from his proximity, you regain your train of thought and call after him, “Have fun show off!”

“Don’t start that episode until I get back sweetheart!” he yells, pointing a finger back in your direction, letting the door swing closed behind him.

A snort escapes you as you take to scrolling through your phone, waiting for Bradley to come back.

And exactly twenty minutes after you last saw him; not that you were counting, Bradley strolls back inside, a sheen of sweet glistening from his chest and abs as he strides towards the water sitting on the island.

Having looked up at his arrival, you quickly force yourself to look back down, cursing under your breath at how heaven sent he looks right now.

As Bradley is unscrewing the cap from his water bottle, he glances towards you propped up on the couch scrolling through the many apps you have on your phone before he slides his gaze to the tv, smiling to himself when he sees that you’ve kept your promise in keeping the show paused.

Allowing himself a few gulps of water, he sets the bottle back on the island and turns his attention back to you, “You mind keeping it paused for a little longer? I need a shower.”

You keep your eyes glued to your phone screen, “Don’t need to ask Bradshaw, I’d rather not have you tainting our clean couch with your sweat.” You snicker, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

He just shakes his head and smiles as he sets off towards the bathroom.

Another ten short minutes had passed before Bradley saunters back into your shared living space freshly showered and wearing a pair of gray sweatpants.

You stare for all of five seconds before becoming conscious of what you’re doing and move to grab the remote that’s been lying dormant on the side table for the past thirty-five minutes, eager to distract yourself from allowing him to take up any further space in your mind.

Bradley, however, has other plans and is picking your legs up off the couch and maneuvering himself under them in order to sit, bringing them back down and settling them in his lap, unknowingly regaining your attention.

Said attention being specifically on his right hand that is currently resting on top of your left leg, allowing a warmth to settle where his hand is, and traveling up through the rest of your body, a flush no doubt currently on your cheeks. Giving your head a small shake, you press play on the remote before forcing yourself to relax into the throw pillow and focus on Geralt arguing with Jaskier.

He's your roommate.

You’re very attractive roommate, but your roommate, nevertheless. And reminding yourself of that fact helps you stay focused on the show before the two of you part ways a few hours later.

He’s your roommate. Nothing’s going to happen.

“Pretty sure this is the kinda injury you go to the hospital for, Bradshaw. Not your very unqualified roommate and a first aid kit” You grimace.

Bradley was currently sitting on the toilet seat of your shared bathroom; after what you can imagine was another interesting night at the hard deck, in his typical white tank and Hawaiian button-down combo while you stood in between his jean clad legs, attempting to control the bleeding above his eyebrow.

“I’m serious you might need stitches,” you grunt, grabbing some more gauze and pushing it against the laceration.

Bradley snorts, “I wouldn’t say you’re completely unqualified if you’re gonna stand there and say I need stitches.”

You roll your eyes at the statement and resist the urge to smack him, “Anyone with half a brain can deduce that you need stitches, doesn’t take someone with a degree to know that.”

“So, you’re saying you’re perfect for the job, since you don’t need a degree? That’s perfect, thanks sweetheart,” comes the reply of a grinning Bradley.

A huff escapes past your lips as you mutter out, “You’re impossible”.

Your eyes examine the items from the first-aid kit that are currently scattered across the countertop, landing on a small box that says, “butterfly wound closures”. You light up at your luck before ordering Bradley to keep pressure on the gauze you’ve been holding as you move to get the much-needed bandages.

Once you’ve grabbed two or three bandages from the box, you push Bradley’s hand off the gauze and slowly peel it back to check on the bleeding. Luckily, it’s stopped now, and you can focus on closing the wound.

Grabbing a square packet with the words, “alcohol pad” on it, you rip open the packaging and take out the small piece of moist fabric, before sucking in a breath. Just knowing how much this could burn against Bradley’s wound has you wincing and hesitating to clean the area around it. “This might sting a little if I get to close, so try to stay still” you whisper, trying to keep your voice steady as you start wiping around the wound. “How’d this happen anyway?” you question, attempting to distract him from any pain he might be feeling.

Bradley watches your face as you begin to wipe away at the dried blood above his eyebrow, nose scrunched, eyebrows pinched, and eyes focused on his wound. It’s endearing, how seriously you’re taking this.

“Some guy kept bothering Phoenix, she can usually handle guys like that on her own, but this one just wouldn’t take no for an answer. I stepped in to help escort him out of the hard deck with Hangman when the guy swung on me. It’s not a big deal.” He sighed.

You forced out a chuckle at his response, “I wouldn’t say that. Not when you’re coming home with blood rushing down your face”.

Bradley clocked the skip in his heart at the word “home” coming from your lips.

Ignoring that thought he rasped out, “Yeah well, better me than Phoenix. Plus, he definitely looks worse than me, I can guarantee you that, sweetheart.”

And just when you were about to retort back, you made the mistake of brushing the alcohol pad too close to his open wound.

Bradley’s eyes instantly force themselves shut, reaching out to grip your legs as he inhales sharply.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry Bradley” you apologize, moving your hands to hold his head in place. And before you even register what you’re doing you’re blowing air on his wound, applying the same knowledge you have with the reaction between small cuts and hand sanitizer to this scenario.

Bradley slowly let out the breath he’d been holding, muttering out an, “It’s fine sweets,” allowing his body to relax again.

Discarding the alcohol wipe, you quickly grab the bandages you set out, unwrapping them at a swift pace before moving to place them one by one over Bradley’s cut. Gingerly, you smooth your thumb over the last bandage, securing it in place on Bradley’s sun-kissed skin.

“Okay” you let out a breath, “You’re all set to be a hero again” you smile softly. “Don’t get into the habit of getting into fights with drunk men.” You warned, moving your right hand to squeeze his shoulder.

Bradley’s eyes flutter open meeting your soft gaze, and he can’t help but to let one side of his mouth quirk up into a smirk, “I make no promises sweetheart.”

Rolling your eyes at his confession you take a step back from him, forcing his hands to drop from your thighs, “You think you can manage putting everything back in the first-aid kit, show off? Or do you need my help with that too?” you smirk.

Bradley scoffs, pushing himself off the toilet to tower above you, “I got it,” he jests, light blue Hawaiian shirt swaying at the speed he moved from the toilet.

With the smirk still playing on your lips you back out of the bathroom, rounding the corner completely before calling out to him, “good to know you’re not completely helpless, Bradshaw!”

It’s been almost a year since you and Bradley started living together and somehow, he’s managed to supply endless excuses as to why dagger squad wasn’t able to meet his roommate. No one was more frustrated about the lack of an introduction than Phoenix, as Bradley’s closest friend she was a little pissed and mildly offended at the realization.

So, after some choice words between Phoenix and Bradley and the occasional nagging from Hangman, Bradley folded and told the duo that he’d talk to you about inviting them over for dinner.

Dragging his feet, Bradley opened the door to your shared apartment, taking in the smell of the lavender essential oil you had diffusing in the entryway.

Bradley faintly remembers you educating him on the effectiveness of essential oils when it comes to mental and physical health, and how lavender was best for promoting sleep and relaxation. Something you learned from your “stress management” class in college. It’s funny how that knowledge has him instantly relaxing once he’s stepped into the apartment; or maybe it was just knowing you occupied the same space as him.

“Honey I’m home!” Bradley calls out, tone light and playful.

He rounds the corner to see you propped up on the couch, book in your lap as you glance up at his loud and flashy entrance.

Quirking a brow at the flight suit currently tied around his waist, you watch him move one arm above his head to lean against the doorway, black fitted tee straining as he makes himself comfortable. You shoot him a playful smile, “Have a good day, sweetheart?”

Bradley lets a smirk grace his lips as he watches you, “I’ve had better.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention downwards towards the book in your lap, “Well there’s always tomorrow” you reasoned.

Bradley allows himself to take in your appearance, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watches a strand of hair fall in your face. He decides then and there that the matching green sports bra and spandex shorts set is his new favorite outfit that you own and there’s definitely gotta be some rule about inappropriate thoughts about your roommate that he’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s breaking.

Breaking his gaze from you he moves to the kitchen, focusing on fixing himself a glass of water when he remembers Phoenix’s words from earlier.

Meandering around the kitchen for a few more seconds he decides to just throw it out there.

“Hey sweetheart, are you okay with a few members from my squad coming by the apartment?”

Hearing his voice echoing through the kitchen into the living room, you allow his words to sit for a second, letting them mull over in your head until you decide to answer him with a, “why not? The more the merrier,” and glance back down to continue reading the murder mystery you’d been attempting to finish for the past few days.

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding; Bradley smiles softly at your focused expression before grabbing his phone and shooting a group text to Phoenix and Hangman to let them know they could swing by later this week.

Only putting his phone down when he got a thumbs up from Hangman, and an enthused text from Nat telling him to send the details when he can, allowing himself to refocus back onto the girl currently sat on the gray couch, with an impressive number of throw pillows surrounding her, and a book he’s never heard of before in her hands.

Smiling quietly to himself, he runs a hand through his curls and decides to head to the bathroom to shower, already hearing you in his mind telling him how you don’t want the smell of jet fuel on the couch.

Once he’s finished, he throws on an old Navy tee and gray sweatpants, heading back into the living room to try and persuade you to put down your book and watch a few episodes of “The Witcher” with him instead.

Maneuvering himself around the coffee table and onto the couch, he quickly grabs your legs and props them onto his lap and shoots you a wide smile.

Peering over the top of your book you fix your gaze on his honey-brown irises and quirk an eyebrow at his disruptive actions.

Bradley nods his head to the tv in a silent question, and you hide the growing smile on your face behind the book you’ve had your nose in for the better part of the last few hours. “Bradshaw, can’t you see I’m reading?” you challenged, quirking an eyebrow up at the man sitting in front of you, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

He nods, “I see that, and I raise you with a much more interesting proposition.”

Lowering your book just a tad, you tilt your head to the side and scoff, “Oh really, and what might that be?”

Bradley bites his bottom lip before shooting you a dazzling smile, “You, me, and at least three episodes of ‘The Witcher’, accompanied by pizza and wings, if you’re into that kinda thing?”

You hum at his idea and look up in thought, biting the bottom of your own lip in the process, “I don’t know Bradshaw, this book is really starting to get good, and I’ve been wanting to finish it for like, a week now” you exaggerate.

He gives you ten seconds, and then he’s reaching across the couch to swipe the book from your hands tossing it behind him, earning a surprised shriek from you.

“What book?” he smiles again, beaming from ear to ear.

Not able to contain your own smile, you let out a soft laugh, “Go order the pizza, show off.”

Bradley stands, sending you a mock salute as he makes his way to his phone.

“Oh! And I want a Hawaiian pizza Bradshaw!” you call out.

Bradley scrunches his face in disgust at the thought of pineapple on pizza, turning back to you phone now up to his ear as he waits for the line to connect, “Still can’t believe you like pineapple on pizza, it’s a crime.”

“It’s really not!”

Pushing yourself up onto the arm of the couch, you bring your knees to sit underneath you, using your hands for emphasis as you argue the point of how perfect the sweetness of the pineapple compliments the saltiness of the pizza, and all Bradley can do is roll his eyes and smile at how enthusiastic you are. And despite him not agreeing with you, he orders the pizza for you anyway. Moving back to his spot on the couch once he’s placed the order and grabs ahold of your left leg, massaging it as you continue to rant about the different universally accepted sweet and salty combinations.

Once the pizza has been delivered, the two of you spread the small feast across the coffee table, as you start the second season of “The Witcher”.

Every now and then Bradley will make a small comment that makes you laugh, distracting you long enough that you’d have to rewind the show every few minutes to make sure you caught everything. And Bradley would just smile in return, taking pleasure in knowing that he’s the one making you laugh.

Once the pair of you have gotten through the third episode, you exit out of the Netflix app and turn the tv off, and before you can make a move from the couch, Bradley brings up the topic of his friends again and you tell him Friday at six should be good for you.

Sending him a small smile you slide your legs out of his grip and stand from the couch, bringing the leftover pizza with you and placing it in the fridge, Bradley close behind you with the wings. Once everything is put away, the two of you exchange “goodnights” and part ways to your separate rooms, lingering looks, and fond smiles left in the shadows of the dark.

Two Days Later

Friday comes quickly, work having been overwhelming and taking up most of your limited time. The time you normally are reading or hanging out with Bradley is almost nonexistent.

Once you’ve made it back to the apartment you make a beeline for the bathroom to wash off the day. Letting yourself linger under the hot water long after you completed your routine, forcing yourself to turn the water off, step out of the shower, and dry off.

Remembering that Bradley invited his friends to come by tonight, you curse under your breath, wrapping the towel around your body and swinging the bathroom door open, stepping out into the hallway, only to crash into a hard chest.

“Shit” you mumble, scrambling backwards towards the bathroom.

Looking up you make eye contact with Bradley, who’s sporting his black tee and flight suit attire from his day working at the naval base. Gulping you tighten the towel around your body, squeaking out a “sorry” as you try to look past his eyes towards your bedroom door.

Bradley ignores the urge to look down past your eyes, willing himself to think of anything other than your naked body, and shuffles back a few steps to let you past.

You take that as your opportunity to scurry to your room in an attempt at avoiding any more awkward moments for the night. Deciding to throw your thoughts into what outfit you’re going to wear instead of the recent interaction between you and Bradley. Coming up with jean shorts, a white t-shirt, and white socks, you give yourself a onceover in your floor-length mirror and nod at your reflection, leaving the safe space of your room to wander around the kitchen.

Since you and Bradley had ordered pizza earlier on this week, you take it upon yourself to order takeout from the local Chinese restaurant. Not having been able to go out and grab groceries to prepare for tonight’s dinner, ordering Chinese seemed better than ordering pizza for a second time.

The bathroom door opening signals to you that Bradley’s finished showering, almost like a warning of his inevitable presence.

Busying yourself with tidying up the living room, you don’t notice him walk out of the hallway, too focused on how to lay your grandma’s knitted throw blanket over the couch.

Bradley lets out a breath, closing his eyes and wills himself to forget about your moment in the hallway, instead choosing to put his shoes in a more orderly fashion by the front door, and switching the diffuser on as he passes it, the smell of lavender quickly flooding his senses and bringing him back to thoughts that all involve you in nothing but a towel.

Shaking his head, he forces the image of your wide eyes, wet hair, and glowing skin from his mind and moves back to the kitchen to unload the dishwasher.

You finally take notice of him and send him a shy smile. He sends you one back and breaks the silence by asking about your day at work.

Thankful for the distraction, the awkward tension dissipates and the two of you fall into easy conversation until three sharp knocks come from the door.

Looking to Bradley he sends a reassuring smile your way before going to answer the door. The sound of two voices arguing back and forth hit your ears and you instantly smile and let out a small laugh at the loud, “Bagman I swear, if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m going to sew it shut with the next toothpick I can find.”

Composing yourself quickly, you tuck a stray hair behind your ear while you sit at the kitchen island, only standing when a woman with shoulder-length black hair and chocolate brown eyes, moves around the corner.

Once Phoenix makes eye contact with you, she’s instantly grinning and coming closer to give you a polite hug, introducing herself with her callsign and then her name, telling you to call her by whichever, and settles in on the barstool next to yours.

A blond with perfectly styled hair and a smug smirk follows shortly after Phoenix and quickly scans you from head to toe, smirk deepening (if that’s even possible), Bradley right behind him with a sheepish smile on his face as he looks towards you.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” the blond drawls, he’s a little short compared to Bradley and you take note of his southern drawl, Texan maybe?

Eyes flitting from Bradley back to the blond, you let a sarcastic smile settle on your lips and hum, leaning your arm onto the counter, hand forming a fist as you rest your chin, batting your eyelashes at him, “Bagman, isn’t it?”

Nat snuffs out a laugh, hiding her smile behind her hand as she looks at you.

“Hangman, actually.”

“That’s not what I heard,” you retort back, smile staying stationary on your lips, challenging him.

“Oh, I like you,” Nat grins. “I like her” she states, turning to give Bradley a pointed look.

Hangman breaks the stare down choosing to look towards Bradley instead, “I like her too.”

Rolling your eyes at the statement you also turn to Bradley, tongue coming out to swipe across your bottom lip as you point a finger towards Hangman, “I can learn to tolerate him.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle moving to grab a set of beers from the fridge huffing out an, “We all do that, Sweets” the room erupting into laughter at the expense of Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

Somehow over the course of the night you and Nat had made your way over to the couch, her sipping on a Heineken and you on a coke, leaving the boys to their own devices in the kitchen.

“So, how long did you say you’ve been roommates again?” Hangman questioned, nodding over to you, toying with the perspiration sweating off his beer bottle.

Bradley brings his beer up to his lips slowly, “About a year now, were good friends” taking a sip after he answers.

Jake hums, “And how long have you been lying to yourself about that second part?”

Bradley whips his head towards Jake, eyebrows pinching at his suggestion, “What?”

Huffing Jake turns his attention from the couch where both you and Natasha have started gossiping about some picture on your phone, back to Bradley, “Bradshaw, when’s the last time you went on a date with a girl, or even hooked up with one?”

Jake is met with silence from the naval aviator, and takes a sip from his beer, “That’s my point. You like her man.”

Bradley leans on the countertop, eyes focusing on the way your eyes light up at something Phoenix says, your giggles filling the space of your shared apartment and making him suppress a fond smile. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, we’re just roommates, Bagman.”

Jake watches Bradley watching you, a knowing smile breaking his smug façade, then he moves to sip at his beer, glancing back over to you and Nat, “Whatever you say Bradshaw.”

From the way the wind and rain were whipping against the windows of your apartment, you’d think you were dealing with a stage three hurricane, but according to the weatherman it was just a bad storm. Maybe someone should double check his certification.

Every few minutes thunder would rumble, ricocheting off your apartment complex, shaking the building, and sending you into another gathering frenzy. Moving around the apartment in a flurry, you grab the collection of candles you’ve been hoarding and any lighters you can find.

In your rush, you don’t hear Bradley enter the apartment, too busy with collecting all of the necessary items.

Bradley smiles as you pass by him, oversized tee flowing behind you, socks making you skid on the hardwood floors of your apartment as you spread the abundance of candles throughout the living space.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek escapes your lips, narrowly avoiding dropping three candles as you recompose yourself, straightening your back you let out an exasperated breath. Placing the remaining candles down onto the side table you huff, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You turn to face Bradley, who looks like he’s soaked from head to toe; he must’ve left his flight suit at the base today since he’s sporting just a black tee and his workout shorts, “I’m preparing for our inevitable demise.” You exaggerate.

Bradley chuckles at your dramatic opinion of the weather, “I don’t think fifty candles are gonna help us sweetheart.”

You give him a reprimanding look, groaning as you say, “No but they’ll help with our vision whenever the power goes out. And some of us, are afraid of the dark.”

Bradley’s smile softens at your admission and angles himself toward the foyer table, reaching into one of the drawers and pulling out the flashlight you’d been looking for. Turning to you and giving it a little wave in an effort to make you feel better.

You smile at his thoughtfulness, “I’ve been looking for that everywhere.”

Giving the flashlight a light toss, Bradley chuckles, “And looking in all the wrong spots apparently.”

Another round of thunder rattles the apartment, making you jump, eyes flashing with fear for a moment. Bradley raises his eyebrows at your reaction and sets the flashlight on the kitchen island.

“You okay?”

You turn to him, giving a small nod, “Yeah, I’m fine. Storms don’t normally bother me but this one just feels like it’s closer to a hurricane than a regular storm.”

Bradley nods at your statement, “You gonna be okay if I take a quick shower?”

Throwing your hand up nonchalantly, you wave him off, “I’ll be fine, probably gonna light a few candles and start a new book.”

His eyes wander the expansion of your face, looking for any cracks in your calm and collected façade you’re putting up. Not finding any, he rationalizes that he’ll only be gone for ten minutes tops, and can coax you into cozying up on the couch to watch another episode of “The Witcher” once he’s finished.

Shooting a reassuring smile your way he side steps out of your way to head to the shower, “I’ll be out shortly sweetheart!”

Shaking your head, you force yourself to move again throughout the apartment, huffing as you grab a case of water and set it on the island.

Standing at the entryway to your home you play with a strand of hair nervously, studying the progress you’ve made throughout the space, giving a decisive nod of approval, before heading off to your room to pick a book and grab a few extra blankets to set on the couch.

The wind has picked up even more now, making the patter of rain on the window hit with a force you thought for sure resembled hail. Shivering at the thought, you clutch your collection of blankets closer to your body and make your way back out to the living room, throwing yourself down on the couch and cuddling into your favorite throw pillow, snuggling under the blankets.

Another loud boom of thunder rattles your building, making you let out a soft whimper in response, snuggling further into the couch for comfort. In an effort to calm yourself down you reach across the cushions to grab the pink book peeking out from the collection of blankets, totally abandoned in your haste to hide from the thunder.

You thumb through the first few pages until you see the intricate curvature of the words “Chapter One” typed at the top of the page and immediately immerse yourself into another world of fiction. And within five minutes, you’ve completely forgotten about the raging storm outside, the sharp beating of the rain on the window turning into a dull thumping as your eyes scan the pages in front of you.

Bradley curses to himself at the amount of time he’s spent in the shower, quickly stepping out and drying himself off, throwing on a white tee and his favorite gray sweatpants. Hanging his towel back on his hook, he swiftly opens the door and takes long strides to the living room, reaching his hand around the hallway entrance and poking his head out to see where you’ve scurried off to.

Momentarily panicking when he doesn’t pinpoint your exact location, until his eyes zone in on your blanketed figure on the couch. A grin splits his lips, and he bites the bottom one to contain his chuckle, you’re reading that new book you were talking about, but the way you’ve huddled into the blankets reminds him of the alien from E.T. all wrapped up with only your head being visible.

Sidling up to the frame of the hallway he folds his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he calls out your name. Actually, letting out a chuckle this time when you don’t acknowledge him.

“You good over there, sweetheart?” he tries again.

This time you do look up, and his heart clenches at the sight of your wide eyes, “Shit! I’m sorry Bradley, how long have you been trying to get my attention?”

“Not long sweets, don’t worry about it.” He juts his chin towards the tv, “What do you think about a few episodes of ‘The Witcher’?”

Glancing down at your book you think about it for a second, it was starting to get interesting but you could never say no to Bradley or “Geralt of Rivia”. So you smile and push the blanket off of your head, “You know,” you clicked your tongue, “I’m starting to think you like this show way more than I do.”

Bradley scoffs, “Definitely not, I’m only suggesting it because there’s nothing else worthy of watching on that godforsaken streaming service.”

“Oh please,” you roll your eyes, “just admit it Bradshaw.”

And just as Bradley opens his mouth to give you some smart retort back, a loud crack echoes throughout the room, and the power flickers off. You suppress a scream and instead resort to a quiet whimper.

“Shit sweetheart, are you okay?” Bradley calls.

You bite down on your lower lip and close your eyes to avoid looking into the void of darkness that’s encompassed your apartment, “Not really,” you breathe out.

Bradley goes quiet for a second, trying to make the moment lighthearted in an attempt to make you feel better, “All those candles and you didn’t light any of them huh?”

An offended scoff that closely resembles a whine leaves your lips, “Seriously Bradley.”

“Hey, I’m just pointing out the obvious, sweets” Bradley teases.

“At least I thought about this happening and got us prepared,” you sputter out. “Some of us were too busy washing their mustache to care” you sneer, eyes still screwed tightly shut.

Bradley pinches his eyebrows, “Hey now, no hating on the stache.”

“Bradley I can’t see anything and it’s really loud so I’m sorry, but the feelings of your mustache are not on my list of priorities right now” You huff.

“Okay well then how about we try to find the lighter so we can actually see in here?”

“Fantastic idea Bradshaw, best one you’ve had all night,” your tone exaggerated, moving your hands to aid in pushing yourself up from the couch.

Letting out a puff of air, Bradley ignores your comment and starts using his hand to navigate through the living room, hoping he’s getting close to the couch, bumping his knee into what he thinks is the side table, letting out a low groan.

“You okay over there, showoff?” you call out, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Yeah,” he grunts, “I’m fine.”

You nod your head in understanding and mumble out a quiet, “Okay, good.”

Bradley moves forward again, maneuvering around what he thinks is the coffee table. He can hear your shaky breaths so he’s almost a hundred percent sure he’s a few steps away from the couch.

Growing a little bolder you take two steps forward, which proves fatal as you end up tripping over what felt like a shoe, forcing you to stumble forward in an attempt to catch your footing, throwing your hands out to avoid crashing into anything, only for them to land on Bradley’s warm and hard chest.

Not quite balanced yet, you stumble forward a bit more, Bradley grabbing your wrist in hopes to help steady you, pulling you closer to him in the process.

You haven’t been able to see since the power went out, but having him this close allows you to see the outline of his face and the sparkle of his eyes, your breath hitches in your throat at your proximity and it all becomes overwhelmingly intimate.

Looking away from his profile into the darkness, you momentarily forget about the fear of the storm and instead are distracted by the very muscular, very attractive man; that is your roommate, currently holding you.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” Bradley whispers.

Closing your eyes, you turn your head and force a shaky breath out from your lips, “Yeah, just tripped over a shoe or something.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” He mumbles, voice a little raspier than normal.

Shit.

Your eyes shoot open, your head tilting back to face him, “If you’re referring to the fact that it’s darker than a black hole in here right now, then no, I’m not okay, I would really appreciate at least one of those candles being lit right about now.”

Another roll of thunder crashes into your living room, echoing along the walls and through your chest, making you press further into Bradley’s firm hold.

Closing your eyes again you huff, “I’m sorry.”

Bradley moves the hand that doesn’t have a grip on your wrist around your back, tugging you into his warm embrace, “You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart,” he reassures, resting his chin on top of your head as he speaks.

You sigh, allowing yourself just for a moment, to enjoy how close he is right now. Just roommates you remind yourself.

“I swear I’m not usually this bad with them,” you mumble against his chest, referring to the raging storm outside.

Bradley’s chuckle rumbles through his chest, nodding his head in understanding, “Where do you think that lighter is right about now?”

“I have no idea, maybe on the island? That’s where I put the majority of stuff.” You mumble, placing your hands flat against him to aid in inching yourself away from his chest.

Bradley hums, keeping a firm grip on your wrist as he steps back slowly towards the kitchen, pulling you with him. “Okay,” he nods, “Lets focus on getting the flashlight and then the lighter. That sound okay with you?”

Feeling the way his thumb is rubbing small circles into your skin, you whisper out a “Yeah,” gulping down your nerves that are so frazzled you’re not sure if it’s from the storm, or from how tender he’s being.

Taking a few more short steps; with Bradley leading the way, the two of you eventually make it to the kitchen island. Bradley letting your hand go in favor of roaming his over the countertop, blindly searching for the flashlight while you focus on finding the lighter. After what seems like hours, Bradley announces his accomplishment and flicks the button on the metal piece of the flashlight, a beam of light hitting your pupils making you flinch and close your eyes. Bradley cursed under his breath in apology, moving the light down towards the countertop in search of the lighter, allowing you to reopen your eyes and get accustomed to the new source of light.

Eyes scanning over your pile of necessities, you spot the lighter peeking out from behind one of the candles.

“Found it,” you sigh in relief.

Bradley’s eyes pan over to you from where he’s standing, watching as you reach past an emerald, green candle that has a picture of the woods wrapped around it; the words “sandalwood” in some typewriter font scribbled at the top, and pull the lighter out of the dark and into the beam of light coming from the flashlight.

Meeting Bradley’s eyes you shoot him a soft smile, giving the lighter a little wave, “Lets light these candles.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through Bradley’s chest while he shakes his head in amusement, “Leave it to you to make a ‘The Boys’ reference.”

You smile, turning away from him as you grab the same emerald, green candle that he was just looking at, clicking the lighter on and pushing it against the wick, “It’s not my fault okay, there’s some great one-liners in there. I just so happen to be capable of altering it to fit our scenario.”

The sky rumbles shortly after your statement and has you kicking into gear, setting the newly lit candle back down onto the island and moving swiftly throughout the apartment, lighting as many candles as you can to brighten up the room, but also not enough to be a fire hazard.

Lighting the last cream-colored candle by the couch, you straighten up and turn towards the room to look at your handiwork, Bradley standing next to you doing the same as he clicks the flashlight off. A soft yellow glow has settled in different areas of the living room and kitchen, the areas surrounding it darker, the further away you get from the candles. “I think that’s good enough.” You murmur, arms crossing over themselves while you scan the space.

Bradley hums in approval, moving an arm around your shoulder and tugging you closer to him.

“What do you wanna do now sweetheart?” Bradley’s voice is soft as he asks his question, allowing his thumb to rub small circles onto your deltoid. It’s comforting.

Allowing your guard to slip, you lean further into his body, turning your head up to look at him, whispering, “Can you sit with me on the couch while I read?” Eyes flickering towards the darkness of your room before returning to his gaze, “I just don’t want to be by myself right now.” You mumble.

And for what feels like the millionth time in the past year, Bradley’s heart skips at your confession, his mouth wanting to grin at just how cute you are and pull you into his chest. Instead, however, he settles for a soft smile and a, “Anything for you sweetheart.”

Gripping your shoulder tighter, he pulls you back towards the comfort of the couch making himself comfortable as he settles into the cushions, allowing you to leave his embrace to grab your book. But once you try to sit back at the opposite end of the couch, Bradley immediately grips your wrist and tugs you back to him.

“You’re gonna end up here anyway, sweetheart, just sit with me.” He rasps out, his warm breath hitting your ear, making you shiver.

Not trusting your words, you hum in response, letting him guide you back into his chest, propping your knees up to rest your book on them as you open it, conveniently landing on the page you had last read.

Somewhere in your brain a little voice was screaming at you that this isn’t what normal roommates do, getting a little louder once Bradley hooked his left arm around your waist, but an even louder voice was telling you just to enjoy it while you could. And in the end, what did it matter anyway? You were going to read and the two of you would part ways once the power came back on to your respective beds and everything would go back to normal. So, what’s the harm in lying here with him now?

The thunder was still rolling outside along with the sharp gusts of wind, but now that you were reading in Bradley’s arms you honestly couldn’t hear it anymore. And what felt like a few short minutes, turned into three hours, your eyes growing heavy, almost dropping the book on your face once you started to nod off.

Becoming mildly alert, you shift your body upwards to set your book on the coffee table, turning to tell Bradley you were going to bed, only to see him peacefully sleeping with his head tilted back onto the throw pillow, right arm flexed behind to support his head as he slept.

Smiling softly to yourself you shake your head and move to get up to go sleep in your bed, only to be anchored down by Bradley’s arm.

Frowning, you grab his hand with yours and begin to try and peel it away from you, Bradley’s grip only growing tighter and successfully pulling you back against him, your hand promptly landing on his chest to avoid faceplanting into it.

Just when you were about to make a second attempt Bradley’s raspy voice rings loud in your ears, “Stop trying to leave me.” He grumbles. Eyes still closed he brings his second arm around your back and pulls you tight against his chest, “Just stay.”

Biting your bottom lip at his drowsy statement, you try to pull your body away from him again, his arms only squeezing tighter around you. “Bradshaw, I need to go to bed,” you huff. Bradley pushes his body further down the couch, keeping you in place as he makes himself comfortable, “Sleep here” he mumbles.

Jesus Christ he’s gonna put you in an early grave.

You allow your eyes to examine his face, the way that his eyelashes touch the tops of his cheeks, sweeping over the tiny freckles littering his face, and stopping at the curve of his lips. Goddamnit. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut, you can’t do this.

“Bradley” you whisper, voice shaky as you break your gaze from his face and focus on the flickering candlelight, “I really can’t sleep here.”

This pulls him from his drowsy state almost instantaneously and has him fluttering his eyes open, blinking a few times to bring his gaze into focus.

His thumb has a mind of its own it seems, since you feel it push under the fabric of your t-shirt and rub your skin in small circular motions, biting your bottom lip to refrain from doing anything rash, a small “Bradley,” slips past your lips, tone warning.

He doesn’t say anything.

Instead, he brings his other hand up to your face and forces your gaze back to him. It’s quiet as the two of you stare at each other, blood rushing in your ears over the silence that’s only broken by the distant roar of thunder.

Sighing, you start to move your body backwards to put some distance between the two of you, “Bradley, I need to go to- “, your sentence is cut off by Bradley, who’s pulled you down and collided his lips with your own. Your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his lips on yours, a moment passing before you understand what’s happening and push your lips against his.

The hand that Bradley has resting against your cheek pulls you further against him, fingers curling around the nape of your neck to keep you close, as you melt into the kiss, his lips caressing yours, mustache tickling your upper lip as they slot together over and over again, until you pull away to catch your breath.

Your eyes flutter open, reconnecting with Bradley’s. His honey-brown eyes have a certain glow behind them as he takes you in, leaning forward to recapture your lips with his own, “Stay.”

Closing your eyes again, you push your lips against his, letting them linger there for a moment before you lean back, and whisper out a breathy, “Okay.”

A soft, adoring smile pulls at Bradley’s lips, giving his head a short nod as he leans the two of you back, settling himself into the couch cushions while you pull your grandma’s knitted blanket off the back of the couch and over the two of you. Nuzzling yourself into his neck, placing a few chaste kisses along the scars that have made homage there. Slipping your hand under his white t-shirt while you mutter, “Just so you know,” another kiss, “I will be milking the fuck out of this.”

Bradley lets out a chuckle, kissing the top of your head briefly before closing his eyes, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart.”

Two Weeks Later

Nat and Jake had come over again for another dinner night. This time, you chose to make dinner, a simple “lasagna roll-up” recipe you found on pinterest that has never failed you when it came to impressing guests.

Bradley and Jake were sitting at the kitchen island, mulling over the salad Bradley had just finished tossing while Jake gave him “pointers”, occasionally stealing glances at the two women sitting on the couch, deep in gossip.

Every now and then you’d look over and send Bradley a soft smile, until Natasha grabbed your attention with another story of the shenanigans that had taken place earlier on base. Jake watching the love-sick expression on Bradley’s face, and stewing in the knowledge that Bradley Bradshaw had it bad for you; just like Jake had told him he was several weeks ago.

“Took you long enough Bradshaw,” Jake poked, bringing the beer he’d been holding up to his lips and taking a sip, smirk prominent on his face.

Bradley spared Jake a glance before returning his attention back to you, clicking his tongue, “When are you gonna tell Phoenix how you feel, Seresin?”

Jake’s eyes flicked to Nat’s figure currently relaxing on the gray couch, not giving anything away, keeping his expression in his traditional cocky smirk, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Rooster.” Taking another sip of his beer, Jake moves his body off the stool and towards the living room, sitting himself down ungracefully next to Nat, her throwing an irritated look at him.

Rooster suppresses a chuckle at his teammates and shakes his head before moving himself to sit next to you, easing his arm around your shoulder, you relaxing into his embrace immediately.

Jake leans onto the arm of couch, permanent smirk etched onto his lips, “Okay I gotta know. What got you hooked on our very own ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw?”

Nat smacks Jake’s wrist and immediately reprimands him with an annoyed “and this is why we only tolerate you, Bagman” while you sit there, a blushing mess, as Bradley rubbed small circles into your shoulder.

You mull it over in your head for a second while Nat continues to reprimand Jake before you speak up, “Honestly?”

Everyone goes quiet at your consideration of Jake’s question, apart from Jake who lets his famous smirk return to his face, “I’d love to hear the honest answer.”

You look up at the ceiling briefly, cheeks flushing as you mumble, “Definitely the mustache.”

The room immediately erupts into laughter, Jake and Nat rushing out questions at a million miles a second, while you cover your face in embarrassment.

Bradley just chuckles to himself and pulls your face into his side, kissing the top of your head, emphasizing the rub of his mustache against your forehead, making you burrow further into his side.

“Just Roommates my ass!”

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #topgun maverick #topgun fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagines

3K notes · View notes

onehoplessromantic · 4 months ago

Text

B. Bradshaw | Masterlist

Top Gun - Maverick

Updated: 11/1/2024 [link check]

!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily

Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.

peace!

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Series

☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor

13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍

Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming

12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...

☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank

3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.

☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04

4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.

☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor

8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds

1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️

Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)

☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank

2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?

☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls

13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!

☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls

10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️

A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement

☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor

3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Oneshots

☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose

wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️

teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end

Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.

☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28

wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing

Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far

☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 2.8k | 🌧️

swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme

The one where the deployments become too much.

☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank

wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍

angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader

Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.

☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28

wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst

You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.

☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley

wc: idk | 🌧️🤍

angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending

You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.

☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds

wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️

heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick

Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)

☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing

The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.

☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍

smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more

The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.

☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank

wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍

tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic

the title says all you need to know

☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank

wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍

accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader

It’s a drabble, I cant say much…

☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor

wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍

fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it

You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.

☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser

wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍

tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley

just read it goddamnit 🥹

☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines

wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍

drinking, arguments, angsty feelings

Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.

taglist sign up

286 notes · View notes

lieutenantfloyd · 1 year ago

Text

The Little things with Husband! Maverick ♡

Husband! Maverick who's your biggest partner in crime

Husband! Maverick who drags you to karaoke night at The Hard Deck every single week

Husband! Maverick who never stops talking whenever he's around you

Husband! Maverick who pulls out the film camera Goose got him for the first time in decades just to take candid pictures of you

Husband! Maverick who fights with himself every day to become the man he thinks you deserve

Husband! Maverick who makes you breakfast in bed at least once a month

Husband! Maverick who is so loud while making you breakfast in bed that you have to pretend to be asleep when he comes in to deliver it to you (he never notices)

Husband! Maverick who's favorite moments are the ones you spend together in the hangar

Husband! Maverick who never wanted to get married, until he realized he couldn’t picture a life without you

Husband! Maverick who's proposal was a spur of the moment action that surprised you both

Husband! Maverick who takes you on spontaneous trips as often as he can

Husband! Maverick who tells you endless stories about the Goose, Carole, and Rooster

Husband! Maverick who will never stop flirting with you, and blushes when you flirt back

Husband! Maverick who starts to question the safety of his stunts

Husband! Maverick who leaves you shocked as to how a man who has experienced so much loss and loneliness still practically radiates love

Husband! Maverick who learns about love languages and takes them very seriously

Husband! Maverick who, with your help, is able to begin healing from his trauma and fully reconciles with Bradley

Husband! Maverick who, with you and the dagger squad, finally has a family to call his own

#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #pete maverick mitchell #topgun maverick #top gun movie #maverick #maverick x reader #pete mitchell x you #pete mitchell x reader #pete mitchell #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun headcanons #topgun #top gun 1986

725 notes · View notes

kryptonitejelly · 6 months ago

Text

looking for a man in finance, trust fund, 6’5, blue eyes. flyboy!universe - but can be read as a standalone. jake seresin x you.

this idea just amused me.

I’m looking for a man in finance, trust fund, 6’5, blue eyes.

Jake pops his head out of the bathroom as he hears the sentence play on your phone.

“What,” he says, full body emerging from the bathroom, “are you watching.”

“The song of the summer,” is what you respond, your head bobbing lightly up and down as the sentence morphs into a catchy tune, the words playing over and over again like a litany.

Jake crosses the space between the bathroom and bed easily, half flopping down on the space beside you. You feel tiny droplets of water from his still damp hair hit your arm as he finds his space beside you.

He watches the video on screen play as the tune continues a small frown on his face.

“It’s what women are manifesting this summer,” you explain tilting the phone towards him to which he snorts dismissively.

“Yeah good luck with that.”

“You know,” you start, bringing a hand up to your chin, rearranging your face into one of deep thought, “you only hit one of those criteria.”

You can feel Jake’s eyes on you and you drop your phone to hold up four fingers.

“Finance - no,” you put a finger down, “6’5 - no, blue eyes - no,” you say before turning to look into greens which are looking at you.

“Trust fund,” is what Jake says tipping his chin down slightly to look at you, somewhat smugly.

“Well lucky me to have snagged a man of affluence,” you say teasingly, placing a hand on your chest in mock surprise. You weren’t with Jake for his money - or as he liked to call it - his family’s money, which made it all the more fun to tease him with.

“I always knew you were with me just for my money,” Jake plays along, the lazy grin on his face a sure sign that he knows it means nothing to you. He slides an arm between your back and the mattress, grabbing you with his other only to flip you onto him, your front laying against his chest.

“Only for your money,” you say mock seriously.

“Only,” says Jake mirroring your tone and mock seriousness. It makes you chuckle, before you press a kiss to the side of his mouth as he slides both hands up your back.

384 notes · View notes

multifan2022 · 2 years ago

Text

Used to be yours

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 2

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

3K notes · View notes

thedroneranger · 10 months ago

Text

Buzzing Romance

Robert "Bob" Floyd

Synopsis: You and Bob have always vibed, and now it's time for this budding romance to blossom.

Note: Hi, friends! I know I've been MIA around these parts. And I hate it, but priorities. Anywho, I wanted to stop by, drop this little gift and say happy Valentine's Day! And say thank you to those who continue to message, chat, tag and send asks 🖤 This fic is a companion to Vibe Check and Sending Vibes. Reading one or both will provide additional context but isn't mandatory. Enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ only, fluffy but sex toys.

Word count: 1.1k

Bob wanted tonight to be perfect. Along with dinner at a steakhouse you’d been jonesing to try, he had a beautiful bouquet of roses to give you.

Ever the perfectionist, Bob had called his florist friend, Riley. Since Bob always made sure Riley was on the shortlist for any local Navy events, he had an open line of favors ready for redemption.

A few days later, Bob spent over an hour in Riley’s shop, before she opened at seven in the morning, handpicking the biggest, reddest roses.

Later after work at home, Bob spent another 30 minutes adding the final touch. A 25th rose that would never die—as long as you kept it charged. He wanted to confirm that not even a petal was out of place, and the rose-shaped vibrator was well hidden so you didn’t notice at first glance.

Meanwhile, you were at your place—a rare occasion on its own. However, you were also giddy to get glammed up and go out on a real date with Bob. The thought made you laugh.

It was clear you and Bob were in this for the long haul, but nothing about your relationship was traditional. You’d been seeing each other exclusively—a mutual decision—for nearly a year but had yet to formally define the relationship.

Hell, you were still discovering new things about one another. Barely a month ago, Bob found out about your culinary skills when you cooked him his favorite meal as a welcome home surprise.

The same night he also saw you in something other than an oversized Naval Academy t-shirt for the first time. You thought Bob’s eyes might bulge out of his head when you donned a sheer nude bra and panty set embroidered with the most delicate flowers.

You were hoping Bob would have a similar reaction tonight when he saw you dressed up for something other than a work-related gala. Your gala gowns were always striking but also conservative since you were among colleagues and leadership. Secretly, you hoped Bob fantasized about what was under your garb during galas as much as you fantasized about what was under his dress uniform.

Your phone shook you from your fantasies. Bob messaged to check that a 6:45 pickup left you plenty of time to get ready. After responding, you put your phone back on the bathroom counter to inspect your face one more time before going to your room to put on your outfit.

Bob was having nearly the exact same thoughts about your relationship, firsts and fantasies as he stood in front of the mirror, deciding which switch shirt to pair with his slim-cut gray suit. It felt cliche, given the holiday, but he decided to go with a soft pink shirt. One last check of his carefully styled hair, and then Bob was sliding into his two-door 90s Silverado.

Fifteen minutes later, Bob rolled to a stop in front of your rental. Flowers in hand, he strode to the front door. He poked the doorbell and waited.

You didn’t even bother to look before you flung the door open. “Hi,” you sweetly greeted him. He nearly dropped the bouquet. Bob couldn’t help but let his gaze roam over your body.

The sheer bodice and the low sweetheart neckline of your top had him reminiscing about his first night home from his last deployment. The silk high-waisted midi skirt and strappy heels you paired it with were the perfect compliment.

Remembering he was standing on your doorstep, Bob’s wits came about him. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled. There was no way Bob’s cheeks weren’t as red as the flowers in his hand.

“These are for you!” He gently held the bouquet out.

Your face lit up as you used both hands to take it. “These are gorgeous! Do I have time to put them in water?”

“Of course.” Bob smiled. “I’ll get the door.” You thanked him and turned to go inside. He closed the front door and trailed you into your kitchen.

“Here.” You gave him the bouquet back as you reached into the top of a cabinet to get a vase. While your back was turned, he adjusted the vibrator to be a smidge more obvious. “Come.” You waved a hand from him to join you at the sink.

While the vase filled with water, you grabbed some scissors, and then turned off the faucet. Then you pulled a rose from the bunch to snip the bottom. “These are gorgeous, Bob.”

His smile widened. “I hand picked them.” You stopped to look at him in disbelief. He shrugged. You smirked as you grabbed another rose and trimmed the end before placing it in the vase. Bob watched as you continued to pick roses and diagonally trim the ends.

Then, you saw it. You froze and looked at Bob. He was smirking. Your expression morphed to mirror his as you unearthed the rose-shaped vibrator. Your eyes flitted between him and the toy.

“It’s kinda our thing, isn’t it?” He said with a wink. Bob placed what was left of the uncut bouquet on the counter. You also sat the vibrator there, and then wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands came to rest on your hips as he looked at you.

“You never cease to amaze me, Bobby.” Your gazes were locked. Your fingers brushed the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“I have to admit my intentions aren’t purely altruistic.”

“Oh?” Your eyebrow arched as he began to slightly sway you as if music were playing.

“I want to take my girlfriend to dinner.” Bob stopped moving and let his hands wander to the small of your back to pull you closer.

You bit your lip to cull the smile involuntarily pulling the corners of your mouth. “I would love for my boyfriend to take me to dinner.” You could feel the excitement in Bob’s embrace. “And afterward, I hope he’s willing to test out the gift he bought me.”

Bob’s face lit up with both a smile and rosy cheeks. He gladly accepted your lips against his and let his hand drop to cup your backside. You caught him off guard by nipping his lip when he gave you a squeeze. “Let’s skip dinner. I want to go straight to dessert,” he stated. You giggled as you uncoiled your arms from his neck and let a hand come to rest on his chest.

With a playful eye roll, you turned to the counter and finished trimming the roses. Patiently, Bob watched you situate the blooms. When you were done, you took the vase to the living room and sat it in the middle of the coffee table. While you admired your bouquet, Bob went to the bedroom to leave a single rose on the nightstand—ready to keep your romance buzzing.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!

A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈

Tag list: @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @beyondthesefourwalls @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9 @hardballoonlove @catsandbooksandstuff @mygyn

#top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick #top gun #topgun #robert floyd fic #reader x robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob fucks #tgm bob #topgun bob #top gun bob #bob floyd fucks #tgm fics #topgun valentines

267 notes · View notes

crossthread · 4 months ago

Text

No jokes here. The Navy’s best pilot and the Navy’s best admiral. Between them, eight air-to-air combat kills and five stars. These were men who commanded respect with or without your approval. This was the picture of ruthless competence.

Debriefing (& Other Stories) • part 2 of Easier Done Than Said by @compacflt

#easier done than said by COMPACFLT #this is one of my alltime favourite fics rn #and probably for the rest of time too #its a topgun fic written by COMPACFLT and its insane and its so fucking good #its basically a canon rewrite of #top gun 1986 #and #top gun maverick #and spans thirty years of Ice and Mavs relationship #theres just so much in this #so much emotion and characterization and everything #which has driven me insane that im having one hell of a dopamine comedown this week after having read it #i highly reccomended people go read it cause its just really that good #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #i love how the commander wrote mav and ice in this. like theyre clearly military men #but theyre also SO much more #icemav #and theyve taken the canon 'whos the best pilot' and given its own twist #'hes the best pilot in the world'#my heart cant take it anymore #i know im making this sound like 100k words of just fluff but believe me its not #its 30 years of pain and internalised homophobia and time away and falling in love and raising a kid and not once talking about any of it #but the ending is so so so good and the additional parts from different povs literally left me wanting more #i cant do this someone help me go read this go read this go read this #and come cry with me how we cant ever read this for the first time ever again #also shoutout to the commander once again for the insane amount of preplanning and research into the navy theyve done to write this fic #im forver thankful. sorry im a stalker

124 notes · View notes

ohtobeleah · 1 year ago

Text

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Four: [Parental Guidance]

Summary: Jakes Mother simply cannot understand what he saw in you, your mother simply cannot comprehend why you left Jake.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.

Word Count: 4:1k

Author Note: Mothers…Especially boy mothers can just be the worst when they’re in LOVE with their sons.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 1st

Bradley Bradshaw never thought he would be the person Jake Seresin called when he was in a situation and needed help, but here he was. Sitting in his Bronco outside the house of a woman he didn't know in the early hours of the morning watching Jake stumble down the small overgrown cobblestone path. The Halloween costume Rooster had seen Jake in early that night was long forgotten as the fighter pilot wore nothing but a pair of boxer briefs with his wallet and keys in the palms of his hands.

Immediately as soon as Jake sat in the passenger's seat of Bradleys pride and joy, he could smell the liquor trying to expel itself from Jake pores.

“You smell like a distillery and we have a HOP at 8am.” There was a very evident disdain for Jake's current state in Roosters' tone, Jake wasn’t drunk enough to miss that. “Why are you calling me in the middle of the night to pick you up anyway? What did you do this time to warrant getting kicked out?” Jake didn't respond right away as he kept his eyes staring blankly out the window, the two had only just recently been given new orders to remain in North Island permanently. But when he did speak up, Bradley's heart ached.

“I accidentally said my wifes name while uh–yeah.” Jake didn't think he needed to explicitly tell his wingman that, during one of the first and what Jake would consider the last one night stand he’d engaged in during your separation, he’d called out your name. “Vanessa didn't really like that.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Bradley agreed as he drove down the street. “That's rough dude.” Bradley knew of yours and Jake's separation, Jake had told him one night at the Hard Deck after he’d asked how the family was. The two hadn’t always been on good terms but Rooster liked to think you and him were close enough to send Christmas cards to. When Jake had told him you’d left? Bradley didn’t reach out—he assumed it was for the best all things considered.

“Yeah—but you know what’s rougher?” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the headrest.

“What’s that?”

“Knowing your wife won’t ever believe you’ll change.” Bradley knew without even looking at Jake that between the mix of alcohol and his desire to win you back that the naval aviator sitting with slumped shoulders beside him was holding back tears. “And proving her right by sleeping with some badge bunny who looked an awful lot like her.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Your home had never been so quiet with all three of your children gone. You stood in the foyer of the entryway just looking around at the mess that had been left behind. Forgotten toys yet to be put away, discarded shoes, dirty plates and cups. Pine needles that fallen from the faux Christmas tree that was essentially hanging on by its last thread. The reminisce of three young children that were allowed to be children inside the safety of their own home.

As you wiped away the tears that you had let fall freely down from your puffy eyes, you made an effort to tidy up the house you’d be leaving in only a few short hours to leave for the hospital stay you had planned. Tiny shoes with no feet to fill, toys left unattended over the holidays simply to be replaced by newer shiner ones.

Between now and new years while Jake had the kids in Texas your treatment plan would increase tenfold. You were scheduled for aggressive rounds of IV chemotherapy that you knew you’d have to stay in hospital for to go through, your body was barely tolerating the oral medication as it was. You were scheduled for a double mastectomy in your time at the hospital which would hopefully stop any cancerous cells from spreading to more lymph nodes and areas of your body that remained untouched. Did you have high hopes? Not particularly. But you were ready and willing to do just about anything the oncologist assigned to your particular case had recommended.

It was going to be a rough stint, but hopefully by the time Jake returned with your children, you’d still be able to mask your diagnosis. How you were going to explain the symptoms like hair loss and suddenly having no breast tissue to Jake was something you had yet to come up with.

But ‘New year, New me’ was looking like the best possible explanation. Maybe the new look would get him off your case a little when it came to working on your marital issues.

As you put things back in their rightful places and tidy up, you felt your phone ringing in your back pocket. The call ID immediately made you want to cry even more than you already had been.

“Hi mum—“ You cooed softly as you stood alone in your empty home. “I uh, I just got home.”

“How was Jake?” Your mother asked as she drove over to yours, you could hear the difference in her voice because of the shitty ass bluetooth system she barely knew how to work properly. “Did the kids kick up a fuss?”

“Jake was–” You would never be able to find the right words to describe your husband, well, ex-husband. “Jake was Jake mum you know how we are right now.” Your mother knew about your diagnosis. She had been the one who urged you to see a doctor after you told her you had found a rather large lump on your left breast. “And no, actually the kids were super excited to go with their dad for the holidays, I think they still don't really understand that I'm not gonna be there at all, maybe they just think I won't be there for a day or two, but uh–yeah, they were good.”

“And how are you feeling?” It was surprisingly a rather hard question to answer as you sat down on the lounge. For the longest time you had always put your family first, made sure all their needs were met before your own. From your kids to your husband they always came first, but now? Now you had to focus on your health and put yourself first if you had any chance of getting through the next few weeks.

“I threw up this morning–” It was your way of saying you werent travelling well at all. “After I slept with Jake–” You knew your mum would be shocked at your admission, so you closed your eyes and braced for it. The scolding, the “never sleep with an ex speech” But it never came. All that came was a sigh you couldn't tell was laced in disappointment or approval.

“You need that man in your life darling, he's a good man, the two of you just need to work on your differences.” Your mother had always had a soft spot for Jake Seresin, for a few weeks after your initial breakup he stayed in her spare room. Jake loved your mother like his own and you knew that if you ever gave her a moment on the soap box, your mum would scream it to whoever would listen just how much you and Jake were made for one another.

Which in your opinion was a little shitty. Jake had his own mum. You needed yours.

“I know he's a good man mum, that's why I married him to begin with.” You sighed heavily as you laid on the lounge to ward off the dizzy spell that was threatening to throw you off balance. “But I haven't been his priority in a hell of a long time, and I owe it to myself to not go back to being a married single mother.”

“Okay okay, well–” You knew your mum was only trying to help but it felt like the two of you had this very same conversation every time you spoke, it was like deja vu. “He won't wait around forever darling.” That fact you also knew, according to Jake himself her name was Violet or Vivian or Vanessa. Something that started with a V. Either way you knew very well that Jake wouldn’t wait around for you to take him back on his hands and knees begging.

But at the end of the day you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to wait for you. Of course you loved Jake, with your whole heart. But right now nothing made sense to you, you were dying after all.

“Trust me,” You rolled your eyes thinking about how Vanessa or Vicky or Veronica looked. If she looked anything like you or maybe completely different. If she had blue eyes you'd surmise that he probilby date her. “I know he won't, but he's not the priority right now, my health is.”

“I'll be there in about an hour or two depending on traffic.” For a split second you wished it might take a little longer. Although you loved your mum dearly and appreciated everything she ever did for you, her favouritism towards your husband made your blood boil.

“Okay, I might have a bit of a nap while I'm waiting for you, I'm feeling pretty shattered.” No word of a lie was spoken, you were exhausted to say the very least. Finally being alone and not having to be in constant caregiver mode for three young children truly had your body calling it quits. You needed sleep and so much of it.

“I'll see you soon alright?” You mum spoke through the bluetooth that crackled and broke with the failing reception, but you heard her just barely.

“Alright, bye mum.” You paused hesitantly as you let your eyes close “I love you.” It had been a while since you told anyone you loved them besides your kids, and for a second you wished it was Jake on the other end of the line. You did love him, probably more now than you ever had. Everything was just so messy, it wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

“Bye Darling.” Your mum replied. “I love you too.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“My babies!!” Janeen Seresin was in Jake's opinion, one of those women who never should have had kids, let alone four of them. Jake was the youngest of four Seresin children and the only boy. His father, Rodney, was a hard task master who no matter what Jake accomplished in his career or personal life, never seemed to be proud of the man he had become.

“Hi Ma.” There was a pretty simple explanation for that, Jake never took a beating without getting a few punches in himself. He wasn't the kind of guy who you could beat into submission even as a teen. “Merry Christmas.”

“Jacob oh my boy it's so good to see you.” Janeen took her youngest child in her arms in the threshold of the Sersein estate. Lavish gardens surrounded the old exposed red brick home that had been in the Seresin family for generations. Jake knew when his parents died it wasn't going to him, but to his eldest sister Julies. “Come in come in! You guys must be so tired after your flight.”

Jake, despite being a fighter pilot who had flown some of the most suicidal missions, was a nervous flyer when he wasn’t in total control. Commercial flying wasn't something he typically enjoyed. It made him anxious at the best of times and whenever he added his children to the mix he was sure that the way his heart pounded inside his chest during takeoff was early signs of an underlying genetic heart condition he probably inherited from his father.

“The kids are definitely a little tired, I think Sam's ears haven't really pooped either.” Jake cooed as he and his kids entered the house Jake grew up in, the overly eccentric, far too big, the annoyingly in your face house he knew you always hated. It always seemed to exemplify the two worlds you and Jake grew up in as children.

“Grandma!” Lucy interrupted. “Mum said that Santa will know exactly where we are if we put out cookies and milk for him and carrots for his reindeer like we do at home.” Janeen chuckled at her granddaughter as Jake placed Sam on the ground to walk off with his brother to explore the mansion style home that was far bigger than the one they were used to.

“Your mother would still have you doing those silly little things wouldn't she?” Jake bit his tongue as he watched his mother soothe a hand over his daughter's head. “Of course we can put out cookies and milk, but if I get ants you better be ready to clean them up little miss.” Lucy simply smiled and nodded in response, the dig had gone right over her six year old head.

“God Ma you'd think you never had kids of your own before.” Jake argued in an attempt to remind his mum that his kids were only young. The magic of Christmas was important to you and him. “I'm sure Santa won't leave cookie crumbs all over the house.”

“Santa isn't who I’m worried about making a mess–” Janeen tried to say the loud things quiet while around Jake's children, but the intent in her words was still as loud and as obnoxious as ever. “How is your mother Lulu? I’m sorry she won’t be joining us for Christmas and new years.”

“She’s been sick the past few weeks.” Jake frowned at his mothers smile, she left little to the imagination about her opinion of you. “But she’s better now.” Jake wasn't so sure of the statement his daughter made, the way you were only on your knees this morning throwing up into the toilet bowl made him frown in response. Jake had this gut feeling he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard he tried not to think about it. Was something wrong with you? Like, more than just a long winded flu? Who even gets the flu for three weeks these days?

“Oh I’m sure she is dear, right before her big trip away hey?” Ever since you and Jake separated, Janeen Seresin had been pushing for Jake to file for divorce and full custody. No one got to leave her perfect angel boy. In her eyes Jake could do no wrong, he was her angel, her precious baby boy that no woman could ever be good enough for.

“Yeah! She’s going to the snow with a bunch of her friends Grandma.” Lucy replied, she didn’t understand her grandmother’s resentments just yet. That or it went right over the little girl's head, either way Jake was thankful for her innocence.

“Oh I know your dads told me all about your mothers grand plans.” Janeen rolled her eyes pretty heavily at the idea you were off whoring yourself out on a ski trip out of the country while her son was tasked with looking after the three children you had with him.

“Ma, drop it will you?” Jake urged. “She’s allowed to go away for the holidays, she’s pretty much had the kids all year.”

“And why is that?” Janeen retaliated as little Lucy walked off to find her brothers. Jake followed his mother into the dining room where festive decorations dressed the dining table. Perfectly set and prepared. A stark contrast to your old chipped four seater dining table that had soggy cheerios spilled on the top just this morning. Jake much preferred the cheerio-covered table to his mothers perfectly decorated one.

Fuck, Jake thought to himself the more he looked around. His kids were about to mess this place up. He knew deep down that would bring you a little solace. You knew Janeen was sour on you. The idea of the kids making her life just a little more chaotic would normally make you chuckle.

“Because I live and work in North Island now, I don’t have the proper work schedule to take three kids on by myself.” That was the appropriate and only answer, but Jake knew his mother saw it differently. “I don't have to means to look after them myself–Y/n does, we both agreed on that when he split.”

“She’s keeping those kids away from you sweetheart.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder if he tried, he’d been home for all of what? five minutes and already his mum was disrespecting you. “You don’t see those kids nearly as much as you should and it’s her—“

“Don’t you think that’s more on me then it is on her?” Jake argued back. “Come on ma you know exactly why we separated, I wasn’t putting in what she was giving and it damn near killed her. The last thing she needs is a custody battle.”

“What you ever saw in that woman I’ll never understand sweetheart.” Janeen cooed as she reached up to touch her son's cheek. “I always knew she was never good enough for my baby boy.”

Jake wanted to argue, he really did, but it was Christmas and his entire family would soon be filling the Seresin estate. So Jake pressed his lips together and leaned in to press a kiss to the top of his mothers head. He didn’t want to ruin yet another family holiday. He didn’t want to be dubbed the family disappointment because of his separation. Although he knew that's exactly what he was.

He just wanted to be loved. And at this point Jake was gonna take that love whenever the hell he could get it from.

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

“Y/n–” At first you didn't respond, but as your mother shook you as you slept on the lounge and called your name a few more times, you finally woke up. “Y/n, babe jesus have you been asleep since we got off the phone.?” It took you a moment to come back into your body as you wiped the dry drool that had leaked from your mouth onto your cheek. The discombobulation was clearly evident to your mother as she stepped back a little to give you some space.

“Yeah, I guess so.” You mumbled as you sat up. “I'm just really–” The all too familiar feeling of bile rising came hard and came quickly. “Oh god mum, get me a bucket!” The look of panic written in the tired lines on your face was enough for your mum to realise what was going on.

“Oh shit hang on.” Your mother hurried into the laundry nearby and searched high and low for something you could use, but you decided soon thereafter that it was quicker if you booked it into the kitchen and puke right into the kitchen sink. “Y/n! Oh god are you alright darling?”

For a single mother of two children, yourself and your older brother Carson, your mother did alright for the hand she was dealt. On the younger side, your mother always seemed a little ‘Childish’ in her nature and mannerisms. But she was your mum and you wouldn’t change her for anything.

“I'm fine–I just–” You couldn't keep anything down to save your life right now, so when your body wanted to expel any form of bile it was just stomach acid and remnants of whatever you had most recently eaten. Your mother did her best to comfort you as you coughed and splatted your gagged in the kitchen sink for dear life, she could tell your body was weaker than it ever had been just from the way you trembled under her touch.

It broke her heart to see you like this, so sick and fragile. You did well to hide it though, for what it was worth she thought you looked relatively healthy still. But it was still early on in your journey.

“I'm so scared mum.” You cried out through gags as you stayed bent over the sink coughing and crying. This wasn’t fair, you had a family to think of, kids to watch grow, a husband to hopefully fall in love with all over again. How could whatever god was up there do this to you? Why did this happen? Why you? What had you done so wrong to deserve this untimely fate?

“It's okay I've got you baby.” Your mother cooed as she rubbed circles into your back with her open palm. “Im here, I’ve got you now, let's get you ready to go up to the hospital hey, you wanna take a shower or?”

“Let me just brush my teeth–” You sighed as you spat into the sink to clear your throat. “I should ring Jake, make sure they got in safe.”

“I'm sure they’re just fine, he’d call if there was a problem, let's just focus on you for once.” You didn't want to feel like you were neglecting your children but you already felt like you were. They were your entire world, putting yourself first just wasn't in your nature. But as you thought about calling, thought about just sending a text, you looked at your phone to see a missed call from Jake about twenty minutes prior and a few text to follow.

:Lover: “Kids and I are here safe, ma’s on her fuck the ex campain already and dads nowhere to be seen.”

:Lover: “Hope you're enjoying your kid free afternoon, safe flight tonight, text me when you get into Calgary.”

You couldn't help but to smile as you pocketed your phone, you'd call Jake later once you were settled into your hospital room. Right now you just needed to finish packing, brush your teeth and get over to the hospital for your admission time.

“He loves you so much.” Your mother reminded you as she followed you up to your room to help you finish packing.

“I know he does.” You really weren't in the mood to be discussing the state of your marriage right now. “He deserves better, someone not riddled with cancer cells.”

“Is that why you won't even consider the idea of getting back together?” Your mother was nearly flawed when you silently nodded in return. “Y/n, don't you dare–” Again, you didn't want to talk about it. Between Jake's mother not being your number one stan and your mother playing devil's advocate what seemed to be twenty four seven, you were just over everyone having an opinion.

“Mum! He didn't care about me enough when I was healthy and happy and his wife! What makes you think he’ll care now that I’m literally dying!” You shouted as you threw a pair of extra soaks into your luggage bag. “It's not fair, none of this is, but I left him well before I got sick and me getting sick doesn't change the reason I left.”

Your mother didn’t respond, all she did was stare at you worryingly from across your bedroom room in silence. It looked as if she was trying to figure something out, read your face, understand what was going on. Then, after a few short moments of silence she spoke.

“Your father and I went through something very similar before he died.” Your parents had been divorced for three years before your dad died in an awfully unexpected car accident. It shattered your mum, you knew it did. “We never did get to a point where we could resolve our differences.” She explained softly as she walked over to help you pack the last few items. You let her help you fold some T-shirts, Jake's old T-shirts, as she spoke. “This past year watching you and Jake go around in circles about how much you both still love each other and how desperately he's willing to change in order to keep you is so infuriating because you, my baby girl, have already decided you're not worth loving because you’re unfortunately going through something I can't even begin to comprehend.”

“He couldn't love me before mum.” You simply sighed in defeat, god it was like you were going around and around on a ferris wheel. “What makes you think this changes anything?”

“That man has never stopped loving you Y/n, he just got a little lost, we all do.”

“If you had a chance would you take dad back?” It was a question you'd never asked before purely because you were afraid the answer would be no. now? As you tried to navigate the best thing to do for yourself, you desperately hoped the answer would be yes. Perhaps then you wouldn't feel so torn about hating to love Jake Seresin and his ability to captivate your entire being.

“Without a shadow of a doubt my dear.” You’d never seen your mother have to hold back tears so hard before in your life. She was watching her only daughter go through a battle she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy as well as trying to help you through your separation. Although sometimes unwarranted and unsolicited, she was still your mother.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional l @jessicab1991 91 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove ve @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes

#was it over? // jake seresin #tw: cancer #tw: breast cancer #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #topgun maverick #top gun fan fiction

313 notes · View notes

allbark-no-bite · 5 months ago

Text

american boys hate to lose.

jake seresin x reader (wc: 6.2k)

summary: you finally get a taste of Jake Seresin, but you may have bit off more than you can chew

warnings: 18+ smut, heavy sexual themes, lack of use of condoms

author’s note: part 2 of ‘don’t write check you can’t cash’ is here! i would highly recommend reading that before this but do with that what you will. dare i say there will be a part 3?

(you can read part 1 here!)

————————————————————————

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into the back of your head, daring you to turn around and meet his gaze. You haven't so much as looked back in his direction since the training meeting started but you know he's there and you know that he's looking at you.

If you were more reasonable, you'd write it off as the residual heat of the evening seeping in through the window of the ready room being cast upon the back of your neck, warming your skin with it's golden orange hue. Such a feeling would render you lazy and cat-like, content enough to slouch in your chair and soak up the rays until only the ending of the meeting would force you to move from your state of tranquility.

Instead you sit up right in your chair, rigid and uncomfortable as your skin buzzes feverishly.

It's the same scrutinizing feeling that you felt that day out on the tarmac and the same one that you felt as he stood back and watch you play pool at the Hard Deck.

It's ridiculous it what it really is, the fact that you're not grown up enough to just turn around and ask him what the fuck his problem is. He's the one who very clearly laid down the law. He has no right to test your strength to adhere to it.

And tested you he has.

Jake's been at your throat all week. It was almost as though he had decided that he couldn't have you and therefore he would hate you enough to make up for it.

"Had enough, Lieutenant?"

From your limited line of sight—face down in the position of a push-up—all you can see are the scuffed toes of his tan combat boots. He's crouched down on the pavement, balanced on the balls of his feet, leaning down beside you so that he's inches from your ear.

Not yet ready to answer him, all you can do is huff under the strain of your screaming muscles, which are about fifty push-ups past fatigued. You can hear the uncomfortable murmurs of the rest of the Dagger squad watching yours and Jake's show down from a distance.

He'd been a bitch all day. Nagging, nitpicking, critiquing every little thing you did both in and out of the air. Finally, you had had enough.

"I said, have you had enough, Lieutenant!?"

His voice was so familiar and yet utterly foreign in the moment. It caused that twisting feeling in the pit of your stomach to return, the one that you didn't know what to make of. As if you couldn't decided whether you were pleased at his attention or fed up with his attitude.

Gasping, you swallow a glob of spit in your throat, trying to pull yourself together. You're not sure how much longer you can hold this position before you physically collapse. A groan escapes you unwillingly.

"As soon as you say you've had enough, you can get up. Until then, I've got all day."

You could feel the tension in the air between the two of you. It had been building steadily for the entirety of the day and this altercation had appeared to be its breaking point.

You stare at the ground, hoping he will take your silence as an answer.

A part of you was glad that you couldn't see his face and he could't see yours. It's hard to look him in the eyes sometimes.

Bradley must notice your agitation because he cocks you a questioning a brow when you finally catch his eye, having been viciously chewing on your pen into order satiate your frustration whilst listening to Maverick give his brief. You wave off his concern with a dismissive flick of your hand, as if to indicate that it's nothing for him to worry about.

You doubt he's convinced but he doesn't push you any further. If he thought Jake was bothering you, he'd be out of his chair and across the room in a matter of seconds. You don't know how you would explain to him that you haven't been able to forget the press of Jake's body against yours at the pool table or the way his voice dripped down and seeped into your spine even as he yelled at you.

The sound of papers flipping and notebooks closing draw you back to the present.

"You're dismissed. Your report time is at o'six hundred tomorrow," Maverick states, bringing the meeting to a close.

Your eyes dart to the clock mounted on the wall, unaware that the time had eluded you so quickly. You're evidently so distracted that Rooster's already gone by the time you gather up your things. Something about a hot date, he'd said.

Glad to finally escape the tension that is this room, you can already feel the ease flooding back into your body, that prickling feeling of dread and restlessness finally leaving your skin as you reach for the door. Instantly the world feels a little brighter, like maybe you'll even brave the evening traffic just to take the scenic route home, roll your windows down so that you can hear the waves breaking on the beach and smell the salt air.

A voice jerks you from your day dream, and immediately you're reminded of just the reason for your foul mood.

"You know, you're a bigger thorn in my side than I thought you were going to be."

You stop just outside the doorframe and the door swings shut. There's no one but the two of you left in the room.

"Is that your way of saying that you're not used to people not letting you push them around?

"I'm saying most people don't enjoy being yelled at."

His green eyes twinkle and his mouth pulls into a smirk that dares you to challenge his statement.

You swallow the spit in your throat, biting your tongue because you know that your argument won't come out convincing enough.

"You were being a bitch," you say instead.

"You wanted me to be."

"That's all I can seem to get from you."

Rather than the snarky reply that you've already braced yourself for, Jake takes two steps towards you and immediately you shuffle backwards, meeting the wall in the process. With nowhere to go, you have no choice but to remain trapped between him and the wall of the room.

Now cornered, he is dangerously close.

A sharp but smokey musk stings your sinuses— one that will become synonymous to you with his presence. The stench of jet fuel makes you lightheaded for just a moment before you snap back to the present.

His sharp green eyes narrow down at you. Your face feels hot under his gaze. Eye contact is becoming a common theme for the two of you. You can't look away.

He is close. Very close. In retrospect, he has never had any concept of personal space. Since the day you met Jake, you have always been somewhat off-put if not startled by his forwardness. The way he had reached out to correct your posture at the pool table without prior warning nor consent had nearly killed you.

He was going to kill you.

Hardly breathing, you take him in with a certain clarity. You haven't been able to put your finger on it, but his face has a certain rawness to it — a natural ruddiness that you can't explain. The waterlines of his green eyes are invariably tinged a pale pink, likely permanently wind burnt, and his nose is always a touch red. Early traces of crows feet pull at the corners of his usually hooded green eyes. Speaking of, now you realize they're not even all that green. The soft golden tint becomes apparent looking into his eyes. If it weren't for their undeniable vibrance, maybe you would be able to breathe right now.

Your attention falls down to his plump pink lips. And maybe those. They shine with a particular wetness, and your cheeks burn with the thought.

His hand lifts from his side and immediately your eyes fly back up to meet his gaze, praying he hasn't caught you staring. Instead he curls his fingers into the side of your jaw and stares at you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression on his face. You wish that for just once in his life he'd express some sort of overt emotion. He doesn't speak, and all you can do is swallow against the press of his thumb.

Your mouth parts slightly, attempting to speak, to say something —anything to alleviate the silence— but nothing escapes besides a noiseless breath of air.

Jake dips his head down timidly, as though he's testing the waters.

Unable to comprehend what he's doing, your first reflex is to replenish the distance between you, and your head jerks backwards. However, it is forced to come to a stop when it hits the wall a millisecond later.

Jake pauses, mouth inches from yours.

Despite the panic that is threatening to take control of you, telling you to push him away, to tell him to stop because this is entirely wrong, you do nothing but stand frozen. Your heart is in your throat, pounding hard enough to stall your breath.

I want this if you want this, but not if you don't, you want to tell him. I will find a way to go on if you don't.

The muscles in his jaw clench, like he's trying hard to make up his mind.

And then without warning, his mouth captures your lips in a hard kiss, driving them open with the force of it. Gone is his previous hesitation. He is voracious; all tongue and teeth. You swear you feel the wall rattle against your back as he pushes you against it.

The thought that anyone could walk in at any moment hardly even flashes through your mind. All there is is the bruising force of his mouth on yours, pulling you further and further into the inescapable depths of desire.

Your hand finds the short crop of his blonde hair and fists into it, tugging roughly on the golden strands. It makes him grunt, the noise muffled by the press of his lips against yours. Jake's hands find your hips, his fingers tearing at the fabric of your flight suit to bring you closer to his body.

When your lips part to breathe, he licks into your mouth, tongue dragging along the slick of your teeth just so that he can taste you. Like he's been just as desperate to taste you as you've been. One of his hands finds the length of your throat and wraps around it, using his thumb to tip your jaw back up so that he can capture your lips in another bruising kiss.

Your need for air forces you to place a hand on his chest, pushing him away hard enough that he gets the hint. It takes more force than it should, and Jake pulls away, breathing hard.

As your senses come back to you, so does your common sense, and all you can think is: there's no way that just happened.

The sight of his flushed cheeks, blown pupils, and swollen, spit slick lips is what kicks you into gear. Anyone could walk in here at any moment. You can't even begin to explain how bad of a situation that could be.

"We should go," you breathe, heart still pounding in your chest.

Rather than pulling away, Jake lingers, hovering over you. "Go where?" he hums. "I've got you right where I want you." His mouth dips down to the barely exposed part of your collar. You swallow thickly as his mouth moves up to your neck, lip pressing to your exposed throat.

"Really," you stress, a bit desperately, your eyes darting to the closed door as he kisses up your neck. "We can't stay here."

To your immense relief, Jake finally pulls away.

"Okay," he agrees, a bit too easily. "I'll bring you home."

——

The car ride is strange but not uncomfortable. Strange because you keep looking over to your left and Jake is sitting there, one hand on the wheel, aviators perched on his nose as he watches the road. Strange because he doesn't ask you for directions, just drives in comfortable silence, the radio turned low enough that you can still hear the gulls squawking as you drive by the beach.

You turn to look at him as he pulls the truck to a stop and reaches for the keys to turn off the ignition. He's smiling and doing a poor job of concealing it.

"I didn't invite you in," you inform him, although your voice doesn't sound too firm in the statement. You'd been so sure that you wanted this back when he was kissing you, but now that the aftermath of your decision is playing out, you're nervous you're making a mistake.

You'd known that anything involving Jake was a risky game from day one. Between his looks and the all-American southern boy charm, it was a dangerous combination. There's a difference between wanting the idea of something and actually having it.

Jake just huffs, his smile still nonchalant as he looks over at you. "I can't walk you to the door?"

You can feel your stomach twisting again. "I suppose."

Your fingers feel numb and tingly as you push the key into the lock on the door and twist, your heart a bit in your throat because you're all to aware of Jake standing less than a foot behind you. It takes you a few shaky tries but the door finally cracks open.

Realizing that you can't avoid the inevitable any longer, you turn back around to face Jake. He's leant against the side of the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest and looking not at all like he isn't supposed to be here.

You stare and him and he stares back at you.

Without a word, he steps forward, into your space, and leans down with the intention to kiss you. Your stomach twists tighter than it was before. You turn your head before he can kiss you, and you feel his lips brush your cheek.

"You can come inside. I- I just need a moment," you confess. "Maybe a glass of wine or two."

Jake chuckles as he draws away, giving you the space that you silently asked for, and for that you're grateful.

"Okay," he concedes. "Lead the way, then."Once inside, you set your things down and escape for the moment of space that you need to clear your head under the pretense of needing a shower. It's not totally untrue. The day had been busy, more so than usual, and you were still sticky with sweat. You leave Jake in the kitchen to find the wine on his own.

While the tub fills, you're finally able to rid yourself of the clothes that you have been donning since the day began at roughly 6 am. Though you're usually a shower person, you've learned a bath is the most effective way get rid of the stress of the day.

The scalding water welcomes you and a sigh escapes your mouth when you sink down to your shoulders. The basin is deep enough that it could fit two people comfortably. You unpleasantly note that that's a thought you've never had until now.

The steam releases the tension from your shoulders and eases your persistent headache. Although you are well aware that Jake is just a few rooms away in the kitchen, the urge to close your eyes and sink in is too much to resist.

He had leaned in first. Backed you against the wall of the ready room and hovered inches from your face. There had been an out. It was brief, but it had been there. And you just stood there, barely breathing, watching him. You had seen the gun in his hands and willed him to use it.

His mouth was just as hot and demanding as you had come to know him. You remember breathing in and all you could smell was him, feel his hand on your jaw, his fingers digging into your skin. He had been the one to pull away, although just barely, and hovered inches from your face once again.

Being so close to him, it was the first time you had noticed the gold in his jade green eyes. From a distance, they were a stark green, but your new found proximity told a different story. You have not been able to see them as anything other than that obscure green ever since.

You break the water's surface and draw in a deep breath, smoothing your wet hair away from your face.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to come back up." Jake is leaning against the open door frame, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You hum, blinking the dripping water away. "Sorry," you murmur, although you don't know what you're apologizing for. He could do that, draw apologies from your mouth even when you had done nothing worthy of forgiveness.

He sighs and moves across the bathroom with languid familiarity, and you have to remind yourself that this is real. It is a strange concept to grasp, seeing him here, in your house. It's surreal to you, the thought that he exists beyond the base and is so domestic.

"Wasn't looking for an apology, kid. Just came to bring you some wine." He produces a glass that you failed to notice originally and sets it on the ground next to him, crouching down beside the tub. One of his hands dips in to swirl the water with the tip of his finger.

Though he doesn't stare, you are keenly aware that he can surely see more than just your naked shoulders through the clear bath water. Strangely, you don't flush at the thought.

His chin comes to rest on the edge of the tub, and his green eyes watch you with a curious guile. It is a look that you have come to enjoy for its fleeting but ensuring familiarity.

You sink back into the tub, feeling the tickle of the water as it laps at the nape of your neck. "You just wanted an excuse to look."

The corner of his mouth quirks faintly upwards. "I'll take what I can get."

As you watch each other, you come to the realization that you could want this. This moment. This life. Him.

For a glimmer of a second, you see yourself making dinner, a green eyed toddler balanced on your hip. The dog he didn't want barks at the front door as his truck pulls into the driveway. He finally walks into the kitchen after a long day in the air and wraps himself around you from behind—

Jake wiggles his fingers in the water, disrupting the calm surface of it.

"Get in," you invite him. It's a well intended, genuine proposition, and one you see no problem with. After your breach of professionalism in the hangar, sharing a bath seemed to rank decently low on the scale of scandal.

"No," he huffs, dismissing the idea, but his eyes twinkle, at least humoring you in his refusal.

Not allowing yourself the be disappointed with his answer, you let your cheek rest against the rim of the tub with a wistful smile. "Should I get out then?"

His fingers brush the inside of your knee and ghost down your calf. "No," he says again. "I like you like this."

Naked. Exposed. Relenting.

You smile at each other with your lips pressed together to convey what the two of you won't say out loud. Something inside you knows he won't be this way tomorrow. He won't share this same look with you, won't be this gentle or tangible again.

His hand curls around your ankle, his thumb working into a particularly tender spot. You wince, a hiss escaping through your teeth as you refrain from jerking your foot away from his digging fingers. It hurts at first, the rough massaging of his fingers into the muscle, but the discomfort dissipates when he draws your foot up and places a delicate kiss to the arch. You feel your cheeks warm. His green eyes linger on you.

"We should talk," you murmur softly.

"About?" he hums coyly, pressing another tender kiss to your ankle. The hot trail of his lips lingers on your skin.

Getting him to talk has been like pulling teeth, and it's obvious that's not about to change now.

As much as you want to remain here with his lips pressed to your skin for forever, you sit up in the water to face him, and he pliantly releases your ankle back into the bath. Without saying anything, you lean forward and search his eyes for any sort of sign of what all this is about, wondering if it's some sort of sick joke and he's just fucking around with you.

His green eyes do nothing but watch you keenly, his eyebrow quirking as he stares back at you. What exactly you're looking for, you don't know. You want to ask him what the hell you're doing here, sitting in your bathroom, too close to be considered professional, but all you can do is stare and listen to the sound of his breathing.

Your bodies have drifted closer to each other during the process, only separated by the rim of the bathtub. Your faces mere inches from each other, he tips his chin up and your noses brush. You can feel the hovering warmth of his lips over your own. The exhale that escapes you is shaky and surely he hears it. Jake's gaze dips to your parted lips and then flickers back up. With more care than you would have imagined him capable of, he presses his mouth to yours.

This kiss is more hesitant than the first, softer and more timid than anything. His lips are pillowy, and you have to shove down the urge to take the plump pout of his bottom lip between your teeth. A wanting ache pools into your stomach. It is the second time that you've known the hot pulse of his mouth and basked in the taste of him.

All too soon, he pulls away, but nevertheless, you're breathless, still trying to comprehend it all. There are a lot of conflicting emotions racing through you, and you're not sure of which ones to trust. A part of you knows this isn't right. He's both a coworker and a friend — not to mention nearly ten years your senior.

But he's smiling at you with those beguiling green eyes, and you're learning that very little matters when he looks at you like that.

The towel you wrap around yourself serves little purpose because as soon as you step out of the tub, Jake is crowding you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

He pays little heed to your insistence that he'll slip on the wet floor in his socks, instead choosing to kiss along your bare shoulder, mindless to where you're going. The two of you hit the wall before you make it anywhere else so he traps your body with his and connects your lips again.

He licks into your mouth, tasting you with an assured vigor. Using the leverage of your position against the wall, the next kiss is harder, trapping you between his body and the plaster. You have to remind yourself to keep hold of the towel around you. You free hand curls around his head to grasp onto what is left of his cropped hair. It is soft and downy between your fingers.

His teeth catch hold of your bottom lip, and he sucks on it gently, causing you to exhale shakily, dizzy with his taste. When he releases it, there is hardly enough time for you to breathe before his mouth captures yours again.

The lack of space between you creates an air that is suffocatingly hot and needy. Your lips feel swollen and slick with spit. He nips at the tender skin, and this time you whimper.

Jake pulls away when you lean forward to chase his lips again. His hands go to his shirt, pulling it over his head with one forceful tug. The flesh of his torso slides over muscle with the effort. His pants go next.

It is the first time that you see him naked. The first time you see him in anything other than a clean cut, military issued uniform, an image so conventionalized in your mind that it had become impossible to imagine him any other way. It is a type of unearthing for you, because you realize he's not unlike what you expected him to be.

Like his cheeks, his broad shoulders are tan and golden, even darker in comparison to his sun brazen complexion. The handles of his hips fade into large quads, tense with muscle. He's full, as one would think a man should be, his muscles swollen to the point that it looks skin splitting. It is foreign to you, his sturdiness, barren of boyhood.

Your towel goes next, and it falls to the ground at your feet, abandoned on the bedroom floor. Then he's kissing you again, your mouths raw and wet from tasting each other. The only breath you can suck in is his own.

As if he can sense your building headiness, Jake eases up a bit, connecting a few relatively tame pecks to your lips. Doing so, he grins against your mouth. Your eyes are closed but you can imagine the confident, all too relaxed look on his face as he says it.

"Just let go."

You have never been good at opening up, something past boyfriends have begged you — tears dripping down faces in college dorms — to do. You grew up alone, in a normal sized house with regular parents who fought enough to talk about divorce but never enough to do it. And so when you get scared, the nervous tendencies and self preservation that you learned as a child take over. Like a dog who learned not to trust a man's raised hand. Always ready to bite. Always on guard with your chest heaving wide and teeth bared.

He hovers, as if knowing not to push you. You are the same in that way, in your astuteness for each other. It was as if you knew each other without trying. His fingers smooth along the ridges of your spine. Pressed against his body, you linger indulgently at the hollow of his throat. His skin smells salty and raw, unsullied by the usual cleanly redolence of woody soap and washing detergent.

The thought occurs your to again.

I could want this.

It feels good if nothing else.

You unclench your jaw and become nothing beneath him.

Jake pushes you back until you're laying flat against the bed, and you have almost completely reversed positions. He follows, taunt muscles moving fluidly under bronze skin as he crawls over you. Wanting him closer, your legs hook around his waist, pressing his hips into your own. You can feel him harden at the contact.

There's no teasing, no rough foreplay, no biting remarks. He explores your body at his own pace, his large calloused hands pawing at the swell of your breasts before sliding down to squeeze firmly at the muscle of your ass.

The drag of his thigh against your clit is enough to draw a gasp from you, and he grins against your skin. Jake kisses along your chest, tongue teasing up the valley of your breasts while you grind your hips up into him.

A desperate whine slips out of your throat when he lifts his head. He moves up on the bed and plants a chaste kiss to your lips to quiet you. Then he pulls away again, face hovering over yours. His green eyes are bright, returning a sort of youthful gleam to his face.

"What?" he inquires, asking in the manner of someone who already knew the answer before they spoke.

"Want to feel you."

He hums, hand slipping under your hips to press them up into his own. The hard—hot—outline of his cock twitches against your bare skin. "You can feel me plenty."

He waits for the answer that he wants.

"Want to feel you inside me."

Grinning, he mocks an 'ahh' of understanding before leaning back to dig in his dresser, supposedly for a condom. For a glimmer of a moment, you lay back and marvel at the sheer size of him—the thick build of his shoulders, the hulking mass of his thighs, the size of his hard cock.

Catching onto your staring, Jake pulls a smirk that says he's pleased with having caught you doing so. Humility has never been a characteristic that you would have attached to Jake, and perhaps it was his resulting confidence that made his lack of the virtue so forgivable.

You wave him off when he comes up from the dresser empty handed. You'd take a plan B in the morning if you had too. He raises a brow, mouth quirking at your disregard but doesn't comment on it.

Jake crawls back over you and teases the tip of his flushed cock at your entrance just to hear you whine before sliding in. His size is by no means deceiving. The stretch of him stings. Jake quiets your grunt of discomfort by pressing his mouth to yours, tongue entangling with your own.

Your fingers dig into the hard muscle of his back, nails leaving half moons in his skin. His breath fans over your face, nose brushing yours as he hovers, waiting.

"Relax," he murmurs, one of his large palms rubbing up the tense muscle of your side. He can feel the tension beneath your skin, quivering with anticipation.

"Move, Jake," you pant from between your clenched teeth.

"Relax," he repeats, sterner. The tone of his voice tells you that he's not going to move until you do.

Huffing, you will your spine to loosen, try to let go of the tension in your hips. It's hard to concentrate when all you can feel is the splitting stretch of his pulsing cock inside of you, but you manage to relax enough that the clench of your knees isn't so tight around his hips.

"Atta girl."

Gently, as not to move too suddenly, Jake rocks his body into yours, hips rolling against your own. You close your eyes and breathe him in. Like a match being struck, the movement ignites a spark in your abdomen. The tone of your whines change from discomfort to pleasure as he continues to rock his hips.

"Fuck," he groans. "You're tight. But takin' me so well."

Face tucked into his neck, mouth pressed to his ear, all that comes out is a moan in response.

Jake's hand glides down your side, blunt fingers bumping over the ridges of your ribs and across your hip. His palm smooths over the curve of your ass, hand cupping the underside of your thigh and hiking it up without warning. The change in angle allows him to sink deeper into your, hitting a spongey spot that has you mewling.

Your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder, nails digging crescents that are sure to draw blood. The breath that escaped him is sharp. He grits his teeth, mouth pressed to your throat as he sponges kisses to your skin.

Something tells you he likes it, the pain. Not necessarily in a masochistic way, his psych exams would never let him get away with that. But you suspect it's more of a reminder that he's human. You know for you it is.

You know that your time is not unlimited and despite that fact that you're good at what you do, your role as a fighter pilot has an expiration date. The average time spent in the field is ten years, and even then most didn't stay in that long. These days, every mission you come back from is a miracle. Eventually you run out of those.

Jake's palm that isn't supporting your thigh slides back up your ribs until his fingers find yours link them, and bring them above your head. The position stretches the expanse of your body out across the bed, exposing you entirely to him. Jake abandons the crease of your neck to suck a bruise to the underside of your breast, a spot he knows will be hidden by your bra should anyone care to look. The laving of his tongue along your nipple sends a shiver down your spine.

Between the rocking of his cock inside you and the attention he's paying to your breasts, you reach your breaking point. You squirm beneath him, walls clenching around his cock as you come. The orgasm travels all the way down to your toes and has you curling them into the mattress.

Jake isn't far behind you. He comes without warning, without asking in or out. You feel it when he releases inside of you, hot and overwhelming. You close your eyes, your head falling back against the mattress as he pulls out. Your used cunt clenches around nothing, already missing his absence. With your heart beating fast inside of your chest, you're grateful that the fan had already been turned on in your bedroom. It helps to cool your flushed cheeks.

Somewhere to your side, you feel the mattress dip and Jake rolls off to lay beside you. He says something but the words are nothing but noise in the back of your fuzzy head. You know you need to clean yourself up, get up and brush your teeth, but you're suddenly more tired than you've ever been in your entire life. Five minutes just to close your eyes won't hurt.

——

You wake up with a start hours later. At first you're confused. The bedroom is oddly bright and your alarm hasn't yet gone off. The sight of Jake tangled in your sheets, snoring occasionally beside you brings it all back.

The soft glow of the lamp on the bedside table swallows his body in a golden brown hue. He's faced towards you on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other cupping the underside of your thigh, which is slung over his hip. Wide awake beside him, you use the opportunity to observe his face freely.

A faint smattering of freckles that look more like sun damage than anything hide behind his tanned complexion. They creep down the bridge of his nose and across his strong cheekbones, hardly noticeable unless you were to really look.

His fair hair and blonde lashes make you think that he was probably even blonder in his younger years. His lips match the flush of his cheeks, a dusty rose color with a plumpness that most girls usually spend good money trying to achieve.

But as the glorious post-sex haze fades away, so does your blissful negligence. You have a training meeting in an hour, and yet here you are, sleeping in the bed with a man that you barely even know.

You should go, get up before he does so that you're not leaving for the meeting at the same time.

Shifting across the mattress proves to be a relatively easy task. Jake barley moves an inch as you slip from his grasp, the mattress creaking just slightly beneath you. It's when your feet hit the cold floor that the latest problem presents itself.

Lukewarm liquid escapes down your thighs, creating a trail of creamy liquid down your bare legs. A recap of the night's events plays through your head. You didn't use a condom.

"Fuck me," you curse quietly, rushing toward the bathroom as best you can with semen dripping down you legs. You awkwardly step into the shower and rise yourself off, already making plans to buy a Plan B as soon as you can. Nothing will be open this early so you'll have to go after the meeting.

You creep back into the bedroom in search of your uniform. To your dismay, Jake turns over as you tiptoe across the room. After a moment, he sits up slightly, watching as you yank on your clothes from last night. They're rumpled from spending the night on the floor, but you've shown up for work in much worse condition. Jake hasn't said a word.

When you reach for the door, he's still watching you. For a second you panic, wondering if you're supposed to kiss him goodbye or at least say something as you leave.

If he's expecting you to and you don't, you set a clear boundary to whatever is going on between you. If he's not and you do, it could be the last time you see him inside your bedroom.

Before you can think twice, you mutter a goodbye and dart out the door.

692 notes · View notes

topgunruinedme · 9 months ago

Text

I’m on that fix where Hangman absolutely knew Ice before the mission, either as a family friend, uncle, or just some old guy he found in the part with no clue this man is literally his bosses boss.

We Stan Oblivious Jake. Because honestly let this boy have a good father figure.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #top gun headcanons #topgun #jake hangman seresin #iceman fic #tom iceman kazansky

161 notes · View notes

missmarveledsblog · 3 months ago

Text

FLUMPY PART 5 ( JAKE SERESIN X READER)

SUMMARY : jake start his leave and his turn to take care of y/n although she is on the mend but he more excited to spend his time with her until his parent surprise him and start meddling with the help of some friends and little intervention

warnings: roommates to lover now i guess , bradley being menace ,jake's parents ( i gave them names) doing the lords work and pushing the two together , fluffy chapter ahead .

The first month and a half flew both so fast and slow in the same time week 8 she got the cast off her arms and her ribs didn't hurt as much but she was still in the chair with how bad the break was in her leg. The dynamic with her and jake was more flirty although still neither taking that step over the line but the flirting almost had Rooster ready to go back to work... almost.

" You sure you got this i can call in sick , go awol for a day no biggie" he said getting ready.

" Rooster i got this , we do be fine when you and the nurse go on dateS" jake rolled his eyes.

" What if your too busy giving her the goo goo eyes and forget to give her the meds" .

" you'll text to remind me i'm not kidding i got this" he pushed the man towards the door.

" Bye roo enjoy your first day back" she called enjoying the freedom of feeding herself.

" Bye pretty girl... lover boy" he whispered at jake as he was out the door. Seemly a new nickname he would call him not that jake cared since he's been called worse.

" Just us now .. enjoying that sweetheart" he asked .

" Yes cause i can do it myself although i appreciate you keeping me alive" she smiled .

" Your welcome .. what on the agenda today" he asked.

" Well i'm not in the doctors til next week so this week we can go out if you want although no beach just yet still haven't got all sand out from last time"she scrunched up her nose.

" Ok how about that park with those duck you like" he asked .

" Shit when did i turn into an old man.. But yeah they're nicer than other parks" she shook her head.

" Ice cream parlour too or diner" .

" Pfft like you have to ask".

" nah only one today" he held his hand on his hip.

" ohh are you the strict parent" she whined .

" you know that is a lie" he laughed .

" ok time to practise on the crutches so i can get out of this damn chair" she wheeled over as he took them off her lap knowing she got herself stuck with them.

" five minute today" he called as she went down the ramp.

" i should get a skate board so i can keep that" she laughed.

" yeah you'll end back up in the chair again nope" he followed her out .

" let master crutches first we can get back to the skateboard" she motioned him to bring them over.

" you can do it y/n" mrs. wilson called from her porch.

" thanks we still on for golden girls later" she asked as jake help her stand.

" jesus your like a kid and old person all in one" he laughed

. " excuse you mrs wilson is a legend did you know she was a dancer in vegas" she asked .

" i didn't also didn't need that image in my head" he hand her the crutches one by one. " ok up and down if it too much don't push too hard" he sassed.

" yes sir" she wobbled before she began not used to the strain on her arms but determine to do her minimal laps.

"Ok you got one now turn easy before you give me a heart attack" he yelled ready to rush to her side .

" i got it" she grunted as the sweat came to her brows needing to get some progress til she reach him .

" hey you did it" he laughed lifting her up and spinning her in a circle . "I did it," she laughed happily .

" now try again" he placed her down helping her balance before she set off each time it got a bit easier but she was all sweaty when the five minutes were up . " Can we see the nice ducks now?" she panted. " We can see the nice ducks," he chuckled.

they fell into a routine by end of the week and the of end of her ordeal, she was able to use the crutches more and more to point she didn't need the chair which was probably best news she heard even the physio therapist was impressed with her progress . she sat was sat waiting to see the doctor after another round of x rays to check her progress.

"It can come off" she asked shocked.

" it can come off you will need this strap for couple of weeks but the cast can come off" the doctor smiled.

" i can bathe without plastic covering i think i know how the turtles felt " she beamed.

" you can bathe with out the plastic , your recovery has been astounding y/n" the doctor praise as she excitedly held onto jakes hand .

" i mean its like a shot first accident and then another one not so bad" she joked.

" no more accidents" the doctor and jake said same time. " she will still need help though as the leg will be stiff and lost of muscle density as it healed" he added.

" see i still need you jake" she teased. " ice cream to celebrate but i need you out while he takes this off " she pushed him out.

" it's gonna be hairy" she whispered to the doctor who laughed.

" i don't think you boyfriend will mind y/n i can see why my nurse miss you" he shook his head.

" he's not my.. We're not... just cut me free doc" she huffed.

" how does it feel" jake asked as she looked down as the strap it was like a booty .

" less bulky its odd" she marvel at it.

" crushing it sweetheart you'll back to busting my balls in work" he smiled although it didn't reach his eyes.

" what's going on in that pretty head of your" she asked using his words against him.

" i don't want to go back to before" he admitted almost worry on his face.

" hey now that's silly i know we'd a rough start but your one of my favourite people i promise it would be like that" she held out her pinky .

" i would laugh but rooster told me how serious you take these" he wrapped his with hers .

" very now i was good so lets get ice cream" she nodded at the door as he held it open .

" hello what can i get you sir" the woman purred as y/n brow furrowed .

" WE will get two chocolate milkshake , he'll have a scoop of rocky road and scoop of pecan , i will have a scoop of chocolate brownie and scoop of cookie dough" she spoke up wrapping her arm around jakes .

" of course can i get you anything else" she turned back to jake batting her lashes .

" nope thanks" y/n gave her a tight lipped smile.

" what was that all about" he asked hoping it was what he thought it was.

" she looked at my crutches funny" she lied .

" pretty sure sounded like someone was jealous" he smirked .

" in your dreams ... if you wanna bang the icecream lady go ahead" she rolled her eyes.

" nah wouldn't want you to get jealous" he teased .

" i was not jealous unlike you with bill down in the nice duck park" she smirked.

" i wasn't jealous he's like eighty" he scoff although he was , not his proudest moment.

" yeah ok say that to your face when he was sharing his bread crumbs with me thought poor bill was going swimming"she winced.

" ok fine i wasn't jealous neither were you" he smirked knowing the both were .

" fine but you think i got a shot with bill or not cause dude always get the best ducks" she joked .

" i get you the good ducks next time" he shrugged.

" knew you were jealous" she laughed .

The flirty tension didn't stopped as they drove home , it was amping up to little touches as they pulling into the drive way only to see rooster and an older couple talking on the porch.

" what the".

" you know them?" she asked trying to get a better look leaning over him he almost forgot how to talk.

" my parents" he laughed .

" go say hi" she smiled going to get out only for him to help her out handing her the crutches .

" mama , pops what you doing here" he called from the car as she tried to hid not knowing why but she was suddenly shy and nervous as hell.

" hey baby boy , this lovely man bradley called so we could surprise you , is that her oh jake she is a beauty" his mother hugged him .

" mama hush" he hissed. " mama , pops this is my darling... my darling friend y/n" he felt his own cheeks burn.

" hi nice to meet you both sorry sort of slow moving" she got in front holding her hand out .

" oh its finally nice to meet you sweet girl , jakes told us all about you please call me beth" she hugged her making sure to be careful.

" all good things i hope" she squeaked .

" oh the best even the good duck park and call me john" he smiled hugging her next.

" what is it with you and that park" rooster head tilted.

" their cute" she defended.

" well i got to go but these two can keep you company , make em see sense" he smiled running off to the car.

" lets go inside she looking little pale" his mom sassed.

" yes ma'am .. beth " she stumbled over her words as they walked in . jake stood only praying and hoping they kept their mouths shut.

" ohh look at you so cute as a baby , what happened?" she cooed as the hope and prayer went unanswered as his mom pulled out his baby pictures.

" i'm still cute excuse you missy" he poked her side making her laugh as the other shared a look .

" course you are jakey" sarcasm hiding the truth.

"Oh this is him in a muddy puddle free as day he was born except boots and his hat little cute ... " .

" ok that enough of the pictures" he dived over taking them out of her hand .

" i'll show you another time" beth whispered.

" so we heard you been through a rough ride" he dad said.

" yeah the guy that done it took a plea deal which sucks but i'm out of all the casts and jakes been helping me alot really he's a credit to you both" she smiled .

" well it works out since you saved my ass with a room and i didn't have to stay at the base again" he smiled back at her.

" cause i'm the best roommate really" .

" even if she snores like a bear" he laughed.

" i snore like a kitten" she shot back.

" kittens don't make the walls shake" .

" that's roo" she flushed .

" you wanna show me that hanger thursday" his dad asked. " oh we can go for lunch" beth cheered excitedly.

" i guess that our plans thursday" . " you can show me his muddy puddle pic" she whispered .

" of course" the woman winked as jakes face fell.

" oh oh you can introduce him to my dad" she added.

" don't say that" jake laughed.

" wait maverick" john asked excitedly.

" he's a big fan of your dad" jake explained.

"He's a legend in the navy of course i am" .

"he's a cool ass dude y/n here grew up with all the legends around her".

" i mean i wasn't going to join the navy but i did go into a similar field of aeronautical engineering i can't wait to get back to work" she sighed a little sadly.

" wow smart too such a catch ... for some lucky guy" his mom cooed looking pointedly at her son.

" i do have to go car shopping the weekend with my dad we can bring your folk hard deck after" she smiled . " we'd love that we're staying two weeks bradley even got us free stay in an air b&b for those weeks" john smiled.

" well we better go we need to freshen up was a long flight and we followed bradley here is ok to visit in between our stay" his mom asked.

" of course always welcome also here put your number in we can sort details for lunch" she handed over her phone .

" i'll walk y'all out" jake smiled .

" it was so good to meet you".

" good to meet you darling girl can't wait for lunch" his mom yelled. " oh we love her" she said as they walked to the car.

" we're not only ones i don't think i've seen him so smitten" his dad grinned.

" you know your sisters are dying to meet her too" .

" can y'all relax we just became friends i mean yeah i think i may be in deep here but she only forgiven me i may of called her flumpy and said some unsavoury things and you two are planning our wedding here " he whispered only for his mother to swat him . " ouch we're good now and i mean there something there but i don't wanna rush it" he said .

" don't let a girl like her go son , she perfect for you" .

" i know she too perfect that why i wanna take my time i don't was scre..mess it up" he sighed.

" open your eyes boy and see things clearly" his mom kissed his cheek and his father hugged him before the two left.

" their right" mrs wilson called making him jump.

" you keep it under wraps too" he rolled his eyes heading back in to the house.

...........................

" JAKE" she yelled making him rush to her room in the middle of getting dressed to bring his father to the hanger.

" what's wrong" he asked.

" you think this is ok for lunch with you mom" she asked looking down at the sundress almost similar to the one he first ever saw her well awake and not covered with rooster hoodie. " jake?" she asked tilting her head.

" ye..yep that perfect you look .. wow" he fell over his words wondering what the hell was wrong with him.

" oh my dad promised to give your dad grade A tour whatever the hell that means but penny said it was good " she smiled trying to clip her necklace in place.

" here let me" he said coming behind her finger brushing her as he took it in his hand .

" thank you my hero" she giggled.

" you really look beautiful" he smiled eyes locked on her through the reflection of the mirror.

" thank you" she whispered a different smile a new one maybe his new favourite .

" you ready" rooster asked making them jump apart.

" yup ready" she called voice doing the weird thing it seem to do when she was nervous around him.

" i'll see you later darling" he smiled kissing her cheek before walking out counting it as a small victory . " that mans gonna kill me roo" she held her cheek goofy smile on her face. " the pinning is killing me" he whispered.

" over here dear i invited your friend and stepmother" beth called . " more the merrier" she smiled as they walked in . " look at you hotty" nat called . " says the one" she winked . " you look amazing" penny smiled.

" you are way too hot for my dad" she nodded.

" ok ladies shall we order" .

" please i am starving" y/n cheered.

" oh the picture as promised" beth smiled.

" haha nat here take a picture" she snickered handing over her phone then sending it to jake .

" not first time you've seen his ass or the last and don't get me started on the magic mike situation" nat rolled her eyes.

" yeah your dad was traumatised" penny giggled.

" what situation"beth asked.

" oh the first night i was home him and roo came into my room like almost naked and i mean this with the greatest respect great job anyways i may of told them to go shirtless not knowing my dad was there" she snorted as the waiter arrived at wrong time . they quickly ordered as the man rushed off.

" so why the whole well whatever".

" because we just became friends i don't wanna ruin that" .

" the way that boy talks about you i doubt anything you could do could ruin it" penny said truthfully.

" he never stopped when he would call home i mean i feel like i know you already" beth added. " and when he was at the base well he wanted to get back incase you needed him , he stopped sleeping around too... sorry" nat informed .

" what if i'm reading it wrong and make idiot of myself" .

" your being idiots now" nat bluntly said.

" y/n hey can we talk" a voice called.

part 6

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch

@djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs

83 notes · View notes