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ohtobeleah · 2 months

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Secret Sacrifices // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Like A Brick]

Summary: With the weight of the world sitting on your shoulders, you confide in the gentle soul that is Bob Floyd. Also known as, your first kiss.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Witness Protection F!reader. Platonic Bob Floyd x F!reader. Mentions of death. Mentions of drowning.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author Note: I'm Back! To get back into the swing of things I thought this little chapter would do us good. although this chapter is mainly focused on Bob and Brewer, we, being @a-reader-and-a-writer and myself, thought it deserved its own moment to really capture the significance of the shared secrets.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Being caught deep in swirling memories wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. Being swept along with the tide, the waves of which push and pull your mind between present times and your past. The very idea of being caught between realities, a paradoxical space between now and then always seemed to be better than the alternative. Live through hell.

“My mum says I’m too young to kiss girls.”

Thoughts of who you could have been and thoughts of who you became push together to create a constant state of flight. Nostalgia is like a whirlpool that you drown in deep inside your mind. You’re unable to tread water as you feel the waves breaking against your skin, forcing you under as you gasp for air. What good were those swimming lessons you were forced to partake in as a child?

“Do you tell your mum everything, Bobby?”

Your mind becomes an unblended mix of memories you’d like to replay on repeat, and those you’d like to hide. Nothing ever seemed simple anymore. Not even the memory of your first kiss. The memory that you’d once considered colourful was now shrouded in forced denial. It couldn’t have happened, for you weren’t Y/n Y/l/n anymore.

“What’re you still doing here?” It has been a long night, so long the sun had just started to kiss the horizon as you made your final lap around the front and back decks of the Hard Deck. Bob sat patiently waiting on one of the picnic tables, typing away something on his phone.

Your voice must have startled him, but you’d never make fun of the way the Back Seater jumped enough to knock the chair his boot-clad feet were resting on into the small outdoor pot plant that sat beside the table. You watched it rock back and forth before steadying itself once again, like a boi floating in the current. That same current that had on many occasions, tried to drag you under.

“I thought for sure you would have been the first one out the door?” You followed up on your initial question as you collected an empty glass you’d missed. Bob pocketed his phone with a tired smile as he looked your way.

“Fanboy’s still in the bathroom with Payback–” Bob explained softly as he looked your way. “Big night, someone had to be the deso though.” You could see it in Bob’s eyes, the colour of a clear blue sky through a broken prison wall. He wanted to ask, wanted to bring it up. He knew you were lying, but why was the biggest question.

“I was gonna call them and the other stragglers a taxi—“ Only a handful of patrons remained inside the Hard Deck as you went about your closing duties. Usually, you would have kicked them out by now. You weren’t necessarily one to want to hang about with people possibly lurking in the shadows. But two-thirds of the stragglers left behind were none other than two-sevenths of the Hard Decks top contributors. “If I had known you were coming back for them I would have told you not to worry,” The chuckle that left Bob’s voice at your statement was undeniably genuine. “I would have sent them home with vomit bags tucked into their back pockets too.”

“That’s why they pay you top dollar I guess?” Ever since Bob first saw you behind the bar that very first night, he knew he knew you. It wasn’t some distant memory of a forgotten past for Robert Floyd. The memory of his first kiss was an easy one to recall from the rolodex inside his mind. It just so happened to be a core memory that unlocked a whole other category of life’s simplest pleasures. But the more you denied its existence, or more specifically denied you were the one who ultimately shared in that childhood memory, Bob wasn’t sure if he’d dreamt the whole thing or not.

Perhaps his first kiss came a hell of a lot later in life than he always thought.

“Top dollar?” You had to stifle your laugh as you joined Bob on the picnic table. As you sat with a small huff, you knocked your knee against his playfully. “Please, but the tips are good.”

There was a heavy silence so deafening that washed over the two of you not too long after you finished speaking. Its gravity felt like an intense pressure forcing itself down against your chest. The longer you and Bob sat there in pure silence, the more time slipped unwillingly through your fingertips, the more your heart beat faster inside your chest.

The silence magnified the pressure mounting, and the scale of your anxiety all felt like it was about to come to a boiling point. As you sat there next to Bob in shared silence, it felt as if the world had turned once again on its axis, and you were just a few short seconds away from falling off the face of the earth.

“I have a small confession to make,” It wasn’t ever supposed to be aired in the open, but the guilt that sat heavily on your conscience was making it harder and harder to keep lying. For three years you had told not a single soul, but Bob Floyd had created a paradox of inner turmoil you weren’t prepared to harbour. “To be perfectly honest it isn’t all that small of a confession.”

“Brewer,” Bob sighed almost reluctantly. The last thing he ever wanted to do was force someone into sharing intimate details of their life. “If there’s a reason why you keep denying it, I’m sure it’s a good one,” Bob had thought about this long and hard, there surely had to be a reason why. He was adamant that you were the girl who kissed him all those years ago. That yellow pigment in your eye was the dead giveaway. He couldn’t ever forget looking into the eyes of the girl who had pressed her cotton candy-flavoured lips against his for three point-five seconds. “And you don’t have to tell me that reason, but, at least tell me, I’m not crazy.”

Again, the silence was deafening as you sat with your secrets for the last few moments. Only a handful of people knew, all of whom were involved in keeping you safe and working your witness protection case. If news got out that you had told someone intimate, key details of your current situation, you’d be forced to restart a whole new life once again. But Bob was different. He was worth the risk for an ounce of normality.

“You aren’t crazy,” It was all the confirmation Bob needed, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to share your personal hell. “I uh, I remember.” You hadn’t told a single soul in three years. You’d been through a thousand things in your life that people didn’t know about. You had experienced things that would shock them if you mentioned the horrors. Those things changed you. Hell—they broke you.

“Bob, I haven’t been Y/n Y/l/n in a little over three years now,” You hung your head low as you spoke, almost like you were afraid that if you looked anywhere but between your feet, you’d see the bloodied and bruised ghost of your dead husband. “I, uh,—saw some things that I shouldn’t have,” The shake in your voice was hard to mask, the sting in your eyes burned like ice against your skin. “I thought that maybe I should tell someone about what I saw, and when I did that I—“

“Brewer,” Bob's voice was soft enough to be barely audible, but you heard him. “You’re in witness protection, aren’t you?” Bob took your immediate silence and broken sob as a definitive yes. He couldn’t even say the idea hadn’t crossed his mind after all the shutdowns and denial.

“I lost my family,” You had a taste of what true love felt like. To experience such an emotion was the greatest gift of all. You loved your son, Charlie, to the moon and back. So much so that you wished every night you let your head fall against your pillow, that you’d be reunited. “I was set to testify against the company I worked for in some whistleblower trial, but the day before I was set to take the stand, we were run off the road.”

Bob sat silently beside you just taking everything you were saying in. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to be in your shoes. To some degree, he almost felt guilty for all the times he couldn’t let the kiss memory go. Every time he brought it up in hopes you’d finally cave and give him the validation he was looking for, it probably felt like an old wound being ripped open.

“You have to understand that I don’t get a choice very often over who I let in,” You finally had to look up, and when you did? Bob was already looking at you. You could see the sympathy plastered across his face in your peripheral. “You can’t tell anyone, and I know it’s a burden to bear, believe me,” The tears had begun to fall long ago and seemed to never stop, but when you finally worked up enough courage to look toward the backseater who sat beside you, your tears were mirrored. “And I know it’s unfair to burden you with such a thing,” The very idea that Bob was now one of the very few people who knew about your situation didn’t taste all that great, but you couldn’t take it back now. You couldn’t shove your secrets back into the can you’d just released them from in a moment of vulnerability. “But please, you can’t tell anyone.”

Bob Floyd was, if anything, a wallflower. He didn’t like being the centre of attention. If he could, Bob would happily spend any time he had off work in the comfort of his own home. He’d spend his free time working on the world map puzzle that had been sitting half-finished on his coffee table for months. But Bob never got to spend those free moments working on his hobbies, no. His found family more often than not would drag him to the Hard Deck. Most of the time Bob would settle into the background and try his best not to draw attention to himself, he couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like to stand in the middle of a crowded room and not be seen for who you really were.

“Nothin’ to tell Brewer,” Bob shrugged his shoulders. “And even if there was? I’m not the gossip type.”

That very fact gentled your soul. All you could do as the overwhelming sense of loneliness overtook you was sob. Bob let you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm soon found itself wrapped around you as your sobs grew stronger and more pained. Tears stained your cheeks as the trails they made collected the makeup you wore, leaving clear indications of distress behind.

“You know there was this girl,” Bob wondered if now was an appropriate time to share his own darkest secret. The idea of maybe holding onto something so important to one another may have softened the blow of knowing Bob held your greatest secrets in the palm of his hand. Perhaps if he shared his own with you, that feeling, that heaviness he knew you felt, would be a little easier to live with. “Her name was Bieanna, everyone back home called her Brick though.”

You had to collect yourself enough to get your breath back before you could speak. Bob understood that. He sat in the silence broken with gentle sobs that softened as more time passed. He wanted until you were ready to speak.

“What did everyone call her Brick?” The question came out easily enough, but the way Bob stiffened at the question as you raised your head from his shoulder made you question if it was harder to hear than to ask.

“She never learnt how to swim–” Bob mumbled as he looked out into the empty car park of the Hard Deck. “If she tried she’d sink–” He waited for you to finish the sentence, and you did.

“Like a Brick.” The realisation wasn’t hard to notice in your saddened eyes. If anything, Bob wondered if he had to continue his story of tragedy or not. You were a smart girl, he knew you could put two and two together. But he wanted to share, he wanted to let you know you could trust him wholeheartedly with your secrets. And you with his.

“Bingo,” Bob smiled softly as you whipped your tears from your heated cheeks. “She ended up drowning a few months after we started dating.”

“Oh, Bob.” Your heart ached for the Back Seater who sat beside you. “I’m so sorry.”

“The worst part is I could have done more to save her,” Bob pressed his lips into a fine line of guilt. “She’d been going great guns for a few weeks while I was teaching her how to swing on her family’s property just outside of town,” Bob could very clearly still remember the taste of the dirt-laced water he’d ingested trying to save her. He could still see the panic in her eyes. “She got her foot stuck in some weeds at the bottom of the damn, panicked, and despite everything I did, I couldn’t save her,”

“It wasn’t your fault, Bob–”

“It was my idea to teach her own to swim though,” Bob admitted as he let his elbows rest on top of his knees. “I don’t ask people to swim anymore, and I’ve never told anyone about the fact she sometimes visits me in my dreams,” Bob explained as he let out a sigh that he wasn’t aware he’d been holding in. “But now you know, and now the secrets we keep don’t seem so heavy.”

The very idea of knowing one of Bob’s longest-kept secrets made you feel a little better about him knowing yours. You trusted Bob, there was no doubt about it. But that gesture of solidarity made you feel safe, trusted.

“No one can know, Bob,” You finished the conversation at that, faking a small smile as Fanboy and Payback came barreling out through the front doors of the Hard Deck. You were instantly on your feet, back in work mode as you wiped away the remaining tears that stained your cheeks.

Bob watched on from his perch on top of the picnic table as you attempted to wrangle the two drunk and disorderly men who could barely tell which way was up and what way was down. He let a few moments pass as he watched on, allowing your life-altering, world-shattering secrets to plague his mind with what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. The very idea that there were people in this world after you didn’t sit well with him. The fact you’d been living a stranger’s life for three years made him want to hug his mother a little tighter the next time he got the chance to see her. He couldn’t begin to imagine to heartache of losing a child, but he knew enough of grief to know what losing a significant other could do to a person.

And for someone who had experienced the worst of what life had to offer, you still saw the very best in people.

“Alright you two drunks, let’s get you two home in one piece,” You chuckled as you walked the aviators over towards where Bob sat. “Taxi’s waiting and the meters running.”

“You’ve given us alcohol poisoning, Brewer,” Payback mumbled as he stumbled with you over to where Bob was. Bob stood with a groan to collect Fanboy from beside you.

“Oh piss off, will ya Reuben–your liver will thank me for cutting you off when you did,” you teased as you handed the men over to Bob with ease. “Get these two home safe Floyd.”

“Will do Brewer.” Bob's soft smile and kind-natured nod was all you needed in response to know he meant his words. “Have a good night, or morning I guess.”

You watched on from the veranda as the three men walked across the sandy car park and over to Bob’s Suzuki, knowing that the next time you saw Bob amongst his Squadron—there would be no mention of that first kiss.

***~***~***~***~***~**

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#secret sacrifices // jake seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #bob floyd #top gun fandom #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman fic

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months

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To wake, perchance to dream WIP 1/?

Hangster - Jake wakes up 10 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

CHAPTER ONE

Jake wakes up too warm, pinned beneath the weight of someone’s arm and he opens an eye and squints out into the glaring morning light.

This is not his room.

He has blackout curtains in his room, not gauzy nets that blow around in the breeze from an open window.

This is not the couch in Javy’s apartment.

Nor is it the guest room at the Machado’s home.

He didn’t drink anything last night, but he’s feeling stiffer than he usually does.

Something is… not right.

“Hrmgh.”

He shifts so he can glance over his shoulder at the owner of the arm and sleepy-mumble and his mouth drops open in surprise.

Bradley Bradshaw.

Not only Bradley Bradshaw, but at least half-naked Bradley Bradshaw, spooning him and… wearing a wedding ring. And hopefully maybe pants.

Fuck.

He pushes the arm and attached hand away, wiggles away a little and then sees the ring on his own hand and just stares at it.

What the fuck is going on.

He’d remember getting married right?

Surely?

“Jake… turn off the sun.”

“You’re the one that didn’t shut the curtains,” he says, and he has no idea what made him say that, but Bradley just groans, pulls a pillow over his head and Jake decides that now is a good time to run for the bathroom.

… … …

He looks old. Not bad, but he’s definitely got more wrinkles than he did when he last remembers looking into the mirror and he’s either got some weird type of amnesia or he’s dreaming or he’s in an alternate timeline. Those are his top three theories and he knew being obsessed with science fiction as a teenager would come in use someday. He uses the bathroom and cups his hands to drink some water from the tap.

Right.

Information gathering.

Best place to start is going to be his phone, if he can find it. Surely he still has a phone in the future and hasn’t allowed anyone to insert a chip into his brain. He dries his hands and tiptoes back into the bedroom, takes in the naked torso of Bradley Bradshaw and okay, he did good if he somehow managed to lock that down, regardless of timeline or potential amnesia. He spies a phone on the side of bed he woke up on, lying on a flat platform type thing, along with a watch and something that looks like it attaches to his ear, which he leaves. He pulls the curtains closed and hopes that buys him a little more time before he grabs a pair of jeans tiptoes back out, carefully closing the door behind him.

He pulls the jeans on and walks down the hall, phone gripped tightly in his hand and takes in the pictures on the walls. This version of himself and Bradshaw are definitely married, couple of photos that can be nothing but wedding photos. They have lots of people in their lives if the number of photos are anything to go by, although he doesn’t recognize half of them. It’s only just after six in the morning, the clock in the kitchen informs him and he spies a coffee machine and it’s already on, filling steadily and he wonders who turned it on or if these things are automatic now.

While he waits for it to finish he open his phone, going to contacts and scans through them.

Abbey. Admrl Simp. Alex. Alicia. Amber. Austin. BamBam. Best Person Ever. Blake. Bob. Brendan. Bryce. Dan. Dave. Dickhead. Directory. DJ. Fanboy. Fritz. Hadley. Halo. Harvard. Hin. Hondo. Jack. JB. Javy. Jared. Jason. Klaus. Kyle. Mark. Matty. Mike. Mom. Morgan. Neil (not Omaha). Nick. Nix. Olivia. Omaha. Payback. Penny. Per. Pete. Phil. Robert (not Bob). Rooster. Sally. Scott. Steffan. Tony. Voicemail. Wayne. Yale.

There are so many names he doesn’t recognize and he feels his breath coming a little short and forces himself to calm down. Panicking will not help. There are names he does recognize so he will start there. Actually, now that he looks he realizes he recognizes more, but they’re callsigns of other pilots, not friends he’d expect to have in his phone. Except if he has somehow time travelled then maybe they’re his friends now too?

Javy though, he knows Javy now, and he looks at the most recent messages from Javy and is glad he didn’t immediately call him, because admitting he didn’t know Javy had kids and that apparently they’re under his care… Fuck. Where are they? He swallows down the rising panic again, years of training kicking in and walks down the hall and carefully pushes open the almost closed door he’d walked past earlier and sure enough there are kids in there. Three of them, and he’s not sure what’s the most surprising, that Javy finally got hitched and settled enough to have three kids, or that he apparently trusts Jake to look after them. Jake and Bradshaw that is. Apparently.

This bedroom is bigger than the room he woke in, but it’s clearly been decorated for these kids in mind and he wonders how often they stay over, to have individual beds. He doesn’t know kids, he was the youngest of four and they were all pretty close in age. He’s been deployed while his brother’s and sisters had started having kids, sees them irregularly at best. But he can probably hazard a guess at ages. Their names are above their beds, two being cribs and he peers in, wonders just how little these children are. Alleisha, James, Brandy.

Alleisha is in a bed, and he’d put her around six or seven years old, can’t really project her length int height, and being tall doesn’t always equal age anyway. She’s definitely the oldest by far though, the little boy, James, maybe two or three, splayed out like a starfish, thumb lax in his mouth and he looks so much like Javy it makes him smile and something in his gut relaxes an infinitesimal amount. The fact that he looks older, that Javy has kids is making him think he’s got amnesia. That’s more likely than time travel, but he’s feeling a little bit sick regardless, everything unfamiliar.

He moves over to the final crib and there is a baby, a legit, tiny human, it can’t even be a year old, and it’s eyes are open, watching him quietly and he freezes, wonders what he’s meant to do with it. He’s seen other people do things with babies. Knows the theory. In theory. Okay. He can fly multi-million dollar planes, he can pick up a baby. He leans down, making a shushing noise and he gets a wide grin and a slap to the face for his troubles as he picks Brandy up and cradles her to him. She’s heavier than he thought she’d be.

Right. What do you do with babies. Diaper change right? Oh god. There’s a change table and he lies her down, looks at the snaps and zips covering the baby and wonders if he should just go and wake Bradshaw up and get him to deal with it. Except this is Javy’s kid. Plus he doesn’t need anyone’s help. He works at the zipper and snaps and finally finds a sodden diaper before he realizes he’s going to need a new one, fortunately located right beneath the change table, along with some wipes. Okay. This is going well.

He pays attention as he undoes the little tabs, knowing he’s going to have to do the whole thing in reverse, and he has a fucking engineering degree, he can figure out a fucking diaper. Fortunately only a wet diaper and he wipes, wipes again, wonders how many times he’s meant to wipe before deciding that someone else can take the next diaper change. There’s a little diaper pail which he’s grateful for, one hand not leaving her little body, terrified she might just roll off. When do babies start rolling around? Planes don’t move unless you tell them to, she’s moving all limbs independently and with no apparent control, sucking on a fist but thankfully quiet and happy. He doesn’t want to see not-quiet and not-happy if he can help it.

He takes her out of the weird sack thing, assumes it’s a blanket thing for sleeping and carries her back to the kitchen, desperate for coffee now, and he realizes he’s going to need to feed her. Okay. Javy wouldn’t have left a baby here without food and he opens the refrigerator and sure enough there’s a few bottles already lined up and he grabs one out, the high-pitched squeal that Brandy lets out a clear agreement that he at least is on the right path.

There’s an electronic bucket type thing beside the coffee machine which makes him think of a mini ice-bucket, it has the same brand logo as the bottle and he wonders if it’s really that simple. Puts the bottle in and presses the button on the front, and it’s definitely doing something, button turning from blue to red. Brandy is almost headbanging in excitement so he again feels like he’s once again picked the right step. While he waits for the button to hopefully change color again and provide a warm bottle he opens his phone again, wonders if he should message Javy and tell him they all made it through the night. Is that something he would do now?

He opens up the photo gallery instead and okay… if he has amnesia then he’ll just wait to get his memories back. Whenever he’s in a photo his smile is so wide it splits his face. His camera roll is filled with photos of Bradshaw and these kids, and a dog, and some people he doesn’t recognize, but then there is Javy and a woman… he zooms in and heads back into the hall to look at the photos on the wall more closely. Phoenix. Natasha Trace. She’s in a lot of the photos as well and he opens up his contacts again, scans through the names. There’s no Phoenix, Trace or Natasha… but there is a Nix and he opens them as he walks back to the kitchen, hoping the bottle is hopefully done because Brandy is getting less patient.

Fortunately it’s clearly designed to be operated by either an idiot or sleep deprived parents and the light is now green and flashing and he swirls it and tries to squirt some in his mouth just to check the temperature, Brandy seems horrified at his actions and makes a high pitched squeal of displeasure, struggling to get to the bottle but he doesn’t want her to get a burnt mouth or anything.

“It’s okay baby girl, I’m not stealing it from you…”

She makes the same displeased squealing noise, hands reaching for the bottle and Jake wonders if he’s meant to hold her, or get a cloth to cover her or something. Ah well. Problem for future Jake. He hands her the bottle and moves into the living room, settles into the corner of an incredibly comfy sofa and she squirms a little until she’s nestled into the crook of his arm, eyes wide and watching him, both hands clasped on the bottle and he doesn’t resist the urge to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

He opens his phone again and navigates back to the messages, looking for Nix and then opening the message history. The messages between them alternate between scathing teasing and then more serious things about the kids, he’s sent her lots of photos and he clearly has a lot to do with these kids. To have the bedroom set up like it is, it looks like a permanent thing, except his messages with both Javy and Phoenix are as recent as yesterday, so nothing has happened to them to explain why their kids are here, with him and Bradshaw.

Fucking hell.

Bradley Bradshaw.

Phoenix he can kind of get his head around in a way, especially if she’s married to Javy. Bradshaw on the other hand, he doesn’t know if they’ve managed to exchange any casual civil words with each other. When flying they simply seem to rub each other the wrong way and when not flying they really rub each other up the wrong way. And yet here he is, apparently married to him and looking after his best friend’s kids. What has become of his life? In another world he’d definitely have made more than one pass at Bradshaw, but he’d never got even the slightest inkling that it would be welcomed, let alone reciprocated.

And yet here he is.

He glances down and startles, Brandy has finished the bottle, is sucking in air and he knows enough that that can’t be good so he takes the bottle from her, which she gratefully allows him to do. Then a dog appears, looks at him and gives a soft whuff before settling on the floor just near him and Jake wonders if the dog is his. He doesn’t want to move, Brandy apparently content to simply lie with him, the dog as well and he’s wondering if he needs to let it out when he hears footsteps approaching and he twists his head.

“You look good like that…” Bradshaw says, and he’s almost upside down, smiling at him softly, like he expects Jake to say something back and he has no idea what it might be.

“Morning…”

“Morning…” Bradshaw replies, giving him a weird little smile like Jake didn’t say quite what he expected. “Thanks for letting me sleep in…”

“You’re, uh, welcome…” Jake says, shifting and standing up because he feels too vulnerable lying on his back on the sofa with Bradshaw sort-of looming over him. Of course, now he’s got an even better view of Bradshaw and he can’t help but look his fill, Bradshaw in nothing but low-hanging sleep pants and looking sleep-tousled. He also looks older, maybe in his mid-forties, but he’s still firm and smooth and Jake wants to lick a stripe over his stomach. Nothing wrong with his sex drive at least.

“And this is why we don’t have kids ourselves. Get your mind out of the gutter Mr Bradshaw, we’ve got kids today and cannot go back to bed…” Bradshaw says, moving close to him and taking Brandy from him and he lets her go, misses the warmth of her tiny body.

“Pity…” he says, and finds he means it, because even if he’s freaking out about this weird waking-dream he’s in, Bradshaw is still a certified snack and Jake wants him. And apparently he took his name when they got married. He’s not surprised he was willing to give up Seresin considering how little he cares for it even now.

“I’m sure you’ll make it up to me tonight. And tomorrow morning if you’re feeling athletic enough.”

“When am I not feeling athletic enough?” Jake asks, because he can’t imagine his personality is that different even if he can’t remember time lapsed.

“Mmm, there’s that fighting spirit. Like it when you feel like you have to prove a point.”

Then Bradshaw is kissing him, his fingers sneaking under his shirt to stroke Jake’s bare skin and he feels his entire body erupt in goosebumps, suddenly hyperaware, every little hair on his body standing on end and seemingly aching for attention. He’s not used to this, not used to someone who just touches him and moves him like they know exactly what to do and god it feels both terrifying and exhilarating.

“Come on, we better get breakfast going for trouble one and trouble two…”

“Yeah, course,” Jake agrees, because he’s the one out of time and place and he’s going to need to figure out a way to break that news to Bradshaw and a little more time sounds good. Regarding breakfast though, fortunately Bradshaw seems to be the one that makes it, but he watches carefully which cupboards and drawers have what items, his mind racing trying to figure out whether he’s suddenly going to remember everything in a rush, or have it trickle through.

“Morning uncle Jay…”

“Morning,” Jake replies, knows the greeting is for him because he’s also getting a hug to his side and he likes being called Uncle Jay, wants to hear it all the time. God, no wonder these kids have a bedroom here if he’s already this much in love with them all. Best case of amnesia ever. He needs to figure out how to let Bradshaw know about that too, not to freak him out, but just to let him know, because he should probably get checked out even if he does feel fine physically. The fact he’s missing a chunk of time isn’t normal. Of course, there is the chance that he’s still dreaming, but his dreams have never seemed real like this.

Or as domestic.

Or as detailed.

The dog makes another quiet whuff and he can hear the front door opening, but it’s clearly someone with a key and he has to stop himself from freaking out that he’s going to have another person he doesn’t know enter his new reality.

“You two wearing pants?” a woman’s voice calls out and Jake catches Bradshaw’s eye roll.

“Jesus Amelia, of course we’re wearing pants, the kids are here!”

“Well, I have to ask.”

“It was one time, and you didn’t knock…”

“And I’m still getting therapy for it,” a woman apparently called Amelia says, pulling a face and Jake doesn’t know whether to smile or say something or… okay, he’s being hugged in greeting and he hugs back, swallows back the automatic nice to meet you because he clearly knows her already, even if he has no fucking clue who she is. She’s definitely younger than him and Bradshaw though.

“Aunty Amelia!” Alleisha says, and Jake feels a spark of jealousy at the joy and excitement in her voice, directed at someone else, and then reminds himself the love and affection are not a finite resource as he watches Amelia hug Alleisha, then James and then slaps Bradshaw on the ass, making him squawk. She just laughs and takes Brandy from Bradshaw, and the baby just goes happily. Jake is so confused.

The dog paws at him and whines, and he glances down and pats her; she’s definitely his, with the way she’s hovering near his side. Bradshaw is looking at him with a raised eyebrow though when he looks up from paying her attention, but goes back to setting out bowls and glasses of water, cuts up fruit and slides another cup of coffee across to him with a soft smile. Jake smiles back, wonders when he might get a moment alone with him. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he pulls it out.

Best Person Ever>> Stop staring at his ass. You’ve been home for two weeks. Honeymoon period should be over.

He glances up and Amelia is smirking at him, and he doesn’t know where she fits into all of this, who she is to them, other than someone he has in his phone as Best Person Ever and judging from her smirk he wouldn’t put it past her to have changed that herself. He shoves his phone back in his pocket. If he’s been home for two weeks then he’s probably been deployed, which means he’s still in the Navy. That settles some of the uneasiness in his gut, not everything in his world is that different then. And this is what he comes home to. That’s pretty fucking cool.

They eat, Brandy being placed in a highchair that materializes from the laundry and she’s given some slices of banana to mash up, which is gross and horrifying to watch. The expression on his face must be amusing, because both Alleisha and James are giggling at him, and even Bradshaw is hiding a grin, but he gets up and brushes a soft kiss on his forehead, murmurs something about every time and he wants to know what the hell he means. Amelia is also eating breakfast, making herself at home and wiping at James’ face and even though he has no idea who she is it doesn’t feel wrong that she’s here and part of their domesticity.

“Right, I’m taking Lady Alleisha and Knight James to their swimming lessons. I’ll be back after we’ve visited the library… We might also swing by a playground on our way back.”

Bradshaw is nodding like this is the standard routine and Jake just smiles, because the kids are happy and excited and now he has his opportunity to talk to Bradshaw. Tell him that he’s not… well. Can’t remember anything.

Yeah.

This is going to be awkward as fuck.

CHAPTER TWO

#To Wake perchance to Dream #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun maverick fanfiction

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desert-fern · 8 months

Text

Alright! Any and all Disney Daggers made by me will show up here!

Remember, each character will have two: a hero and a villain (because I can’t help myself lol) I will alternate between one character’s villain and another’s hero before going back and finishing the list!

Also! If any of these moodboards spark a fic or oneshot idea, please credit me! I spent way too long working on these! And remember that I do not consent to having these reposted elsewhere (unless I do it on Pinterest!)

===

Javy

Villain -> Dr. Facilier

Hero -> Frozone

Jake

Villain -> Ken Doll

Hero -> Flynn Rider

Fanboy

Villain -> Ernesto de la Cruz

Hero -> Bruno Madrigal

Bob

Villain -> Syndrome

Hero -> Milo Thatch

Natasha

Villain -> Maleficent

Hero -> Isabela Madrigal

Payback

Villain -> Jafar

Hero -> Prince Naveen

Maverick

Villain -> Captain Hook

Hero -> Robin Hood

Penny Benjamin

Villain -> Mother Gothel

Hero -> Maid Marian

Amelia Benjamin

Villain -> Cruella de Vil

Hero -> Ariel

Goose

Villain -> Hades

Hero -> Peter Pan

Bradley

Villain -> Prince Hans

Hero -> Hercules

Carole Bradshaw

Villain -> Lady Tremaine

Hero -> Wendy Darling

Cyclone

Villain -> Oogie Boogie

Hero -> King Triton

Iceman

Villain -> Judge Claude Frollo

Hero -> Prince Adam/The Beast

Slider

Villain -> Gaston

Hero -> Kronk

Charlie

Villain -> The Evil Queen

Hero -> Alice

BONUS BOARDS!

#1 -> Maui!Javy

#2 -> Lady and the Tramp with Bob

#3 -> Buzz Lightyear!Bradley

#4 -> Woody!Jake

#5 -> Tadashi Hamada!Mickey

#6 -> 101 Dalmatians with Rhett (I know he isn’t a Dagger but shush!)

#Fern creates #moodboard masterlist #moodboard series #moodboards #disney!daggers #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #reuben payback fitch #robert bob floyd #pete maverick mitchell #top gun maverick #top gun 1986

133 notes · View notes

cherrycola27 · 9 months

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 11: Call It What You Want

Two weeks had passed since the incident with the God hunters. After being checked by medical for his "fall," Bradley learned that his nose wasn't broken but severely bruised. He was put on desk duty, but it had finally healed where he could be in his jet again.

In those two weeks, he'd spent every night in your apartment in your bed. His clothes had even found themselves in your drawers, and his toothbrush was next to yours by the sink. His deodorant sat next to yours in the medicine cabinet, and his razor and shaving products were neatly tucked beside your makeup. Bradley had also helped himself to more than a fair amount of your expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, but you didn't care.

You were busy in the kitchen, uniform on, and ready to go when Bradley strolled in wearing a pair of swim trunks and his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

"G'Morning, Angel." He said as he gave you a quick peck before grabbing a coffee mug from your cabinet and pouring himself a cup.

"It's a morning. If it were a good morning, I'd be going to the beach with you, Bob, Phoenix, and Javy. Instead, I'm stuck in a classroom until lunch and have to fly with Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman later today." You sighed.

A new class of Top Gun recruits had just started. It was a smaller class than usual, so the Daggers had been alternating Fridays when it came to teaching. It was great because it made every other weekend a three day weekend. Unfortunately, you and Bradley had been put on opposite schedules.

"Don't worry, Baby. You'll survive, and this afternoon, I'll come pick you up, and we will go get the Bronco and then veg out on the couch." Bradley assured you.

The Bronco had been in the shop getting some necessary maintenance, and Bradley had been your chauffer for the week, insisting on driving even though it was your car.

"Have you thought anymore about what I said? I mean, most of your stuff has migrated here the past two weeks. You've slept here every night, and your lease is coming up next week!" You say. You'd been trying to get Bradley to move in with you. You lived in the same building, and it didn't make sense for him to keep paying for his apartment when yours was bigger and better.

Also, if he moved in, you might finally be able to have sex.

In the two weeks since Bradley had given you the best orgasm of your life, the two of you had gotten more physical. He'd treated you to his hands, and his glorious mouth more times than you could count, and you'd returned the favor, but there was something about going all the way with him that made you apprehensive.

In the back of your mind, you were terrified of losing control and hurting him while you were in the throws of passion. But maybe—maybe the security that him moving in brought would help you overcome that mental obstacle.

Because he made you feel safe

Bradley sighs, "Angel, I love you, but I don't want us to rush into anything. My lease is up in two weeks. I'll really think about it. I promise. Now we'd better get going before you're late." Bradley pecks your lips and snatches the car keys from your hand in one swift motion.

He holds your hand the whole walk down the hallway, and in the elevator, he can't resist pressing you to the wall for some heated kisses.

His hand rests on your thigh as he drives you to base. He slides into your reserved parking spot and gets out before coming to open your door. He gives you a goodbye kiss followed by a playful smack on your ass as you turn away from him.

You spin around to shoot him a look, but you laugh instead. Just before you leave, you blink three times and check his lifetime counter. It's unchanged, like it has been for weeks. You breathe out a sigh of relief before heading inside.

.................

A few hours later, you're almost done with your lecture, and Bradley will be coming to base to bring you lunch after his morning at the beach. You're teaching away with Payback and Fanboy. You're just about to change the slide on your presentation when you feel a twinge of pain in your chest. Your mind snaps to Bradley.

No, he was fine

You'd checked this morning

You dismissed it and keep working.

Maverick is sitting in his office working on some paperwork when his phone rings. He doesn't recognize the number, so he answers quickly. His breath catches in his throat when the person on the other line speaks

Hangman is just dismissing his class for lunch today when Maverick runs up to him in the hallway frantically searching for you. Mav explains everything and sends Jake to your room while he scrambles to get to the hospital.

You have about fifteen minutes left in your lecture, and someone's phone has just vibrated for the third time.

"Who's phone is that?" You practically yell at your students. A junior lieutenant raises their hand and points out that it's yours. You apologize for your outburst and go to silence your device.

The moment you touch it, the pain in your chest comes back, and it rings again. You answer it, stepping out into the hallway.

"Hello?" You say into the phone.

"Hello, is this Commander Y/N Kolasi?" A woman asks you.

"Yes. Who is this?" You question her.

"This is Dr. Maya Tunner from San Diego Medical Center. I have you listed as an emergency contact for Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw." She says. Your heart drops.

"Oh my god." You breath out.

"Miss Kolasi, I'm calling to inform you that Mr. Bradshaw was in a vehicular accident and has been brought in for treatment. He's about to go in for surgery, and we need you down here as soon as possible." Dr. Tunner says before hanging up the phone.

The world feels like it's spinning in slow motion. How could this be? You'd just checked his counter this morning. Your knees buckle. You lean against the wall for support as you try not to cry.

You hear someone calling your name but you can't place it.

"Hades—Hades—look at me." Jake says as he grabs your arms to steady you.

"Jake—it's Bradley—he—he—" you can't speak.

"I know. I know. Mav sent me to get you. He's on his way to the hospital now, I'm going to drive you there. I've got your things from your office, let's go." Jake says as he gently loops an arm around your back to keep you steady as he walks beside you. You're distraught. Your hands were shaking and tears were streaming down your face.

Jake had to buckle you into his car because of how much you were trembling.

"I can't believe this is happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. I checked before he left. He was supposed to be okay!" You mumbled over and over again between sobs as Jake drove you to San Diego Medical Center.

"Hades, everything is going to be fine. Take a few deep breaths." Jake tried to comfort you.

"You don't understand! I checked! I made sure! He was supposed to be fine!" You practically shouted at Jake.

"Checked what? Hades, you aren't making any sense. You're upset. Just relax." Jake said, more confused than anything.

You let our a groan of frustration. You made sure Bradley's lifetime counter was fine. This wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't have ignored your feeling. If something terrible happened to Bradley, it would be all your fault!

It would be the second time you hurt someone you loved

Moments later, Jake pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. You bolted from his car towards the entrance. You charged towards the nurses station in the emergency room to find out about Bradley, but Maverick intercepted, catching you by your shoulders and turning you to face him.

"Hades, slow down." Maverick said.

You swallowed thickly as you faced him. New tears lined your lashes as you began to speak

"I don't know how this happened, Mav. I checked to make sure he was going to be okay before he dropped me off. Nothing was wrong. He was safe. It didn't—it didn't change. I wouldn't have let him go if it changed. It's all my fault, Pete. It's all my fault!" You babble out hysterically. Before you started to hyperventilate.

Maverick gave you a confused look. He wasn't sure what you were talking about, but given the state you were in, he wasn't sure if you knew what you were saying either.

Obviously, the news of Bradley being in an accident had you shaken.

"Hades, breathe. I need you to breathe. I can't have you in the ER, too, Kid. C'mon, take a few deep breaths with me." Maverick said as he did a few deep breathing exercises with you.

Once you had your breath semi-regulated, you and Maverick sat down in some chairs at a far corner of the waiting room.

"I spoke to the doctors, nurses, and police and found out what happened. A box truck ran a red light and slamed into the driver's side of your car. It was your car that he was driving? Right? Because I remember the Bronco being in the shop." Maverick began. You nod your head.

"Okay, so the truck hit the driver's side door, and the car behind Bradley tried to stop, but they ended up rear-ending him. The paramedics said it could have been a lot worse. But, they did some x-rays and a CT scan. He's got a concussion, some bruised ribs, and a broken clavicle. He's in surgery right now to repair it. They'll probably have to put a steel rod in, depending on the damage, but he'll be okay. It will take him a few months to heal up, but Bradley will be able to fly again once he's recovered." Maverick told you.

Your heart hurts. This explains why his lifetime counter didn't change. The accident didn't put him in a near death situation, but you still feel like all of this is your fault. Your a Goddess for crying out loud, you should have been able to predict this.

Bradley was the one thing you had in life that you truly cared about. If you couldn't keep him safe, what purpose did you serve?

None, you were usless

You spend what feels like forever in the waiting room before a nurse finally takes you and Maverick back to Bradley's hospital room. You get a hold of Amelia to make sure Cerberus and Hyrda get a walk in. Penny calls you to tell you that she's going to bring them to her house tonight to look after them because she figures you'll want to stay with Bradley overnight.

You thank her and ask her to pack you a few things to bring to the hospital, and she is more than happy to oblige.

Soon, Bradley is being wheeled into the room. He's still a little groggy from the surgery, but a dopey grin appears on his face when he sees you. His left arm is in a sling, but he reaches out his right one and makes a grabby hand towards you.

"Angel!" He slurs, beckoning you to him.

"Hi, Bradley. Hi, Love." You greet him in a weepy voice as you go to his side. Mav comes to stand beside you.

"You gave us quite a scar there, Kid." Maverick remarks.

"Sorry, didn't mean to." Bradley laughs.

"I know you didn't. I'm just glad you're okay. The doctor says they want to keep you here for a day or two, just to make sure you're healing well. Hades has already volunteered to stay with you, which figured as much." Maverick chuckles.

"What about Hyrda and Cerberus?" Bradley asks. Even after a serious car and a morphine induced high, he's worried about the well-being of your pets.

"Penny and Amelia are going to look after them. Don't worry." You assure him.

Maverick gives Bradley a hug before going downstairs to meet Penny to get your bag from her.

"Angel, M'sorry about your car. It's all smashed up now." Bradley apologizes to you. If he didn't have a concussion, you would have slapped him on the head.

"Love, I don't care about the car. I can get a new one. It can be replaced. But you, there's not another one of you in the world. I'll never be able to replace you, Bradley. All that matters is that you are okay. I love you."

Bradley nodded and cupped your face with his free hand. You pushed some of his curls off of his forehead and placed a tender kiss on it.

.................

Bradley spent two days in the hospital and was eager to get out. Maverick had retrieved the Bronco, and you'd called up an old car sales associate friend of yours. It cost you more money than most could fathom, but you were able to get an almost identical replacement of your Range Rover, right down to the paint job.

But the cost didn't matter. Being on Earth for a thousand years, you'd made good investments. You had more money than you could every spend in an eternity.

Bradley couldn't believe it when he was wheeled out of the hospital and saw your car waiting for him. He wanted to question you but thought better of it.

His injury helped you with the move in debate, though.

You told him it would be better for his recovery. You could take care of him. After all, he was on bed rest with strict orders for no strenuous activity for twelve weeks.

Bradley hated the idea of being down so long. He also hated the fact that it would be even longer before he could sleep with you. Sex wasn't the most important thing to him in a relationship, but if he kept this streak up, it was never going to happen.

He silently hoped that he would heal faster because he doesn't know if he can make it til March to have you.

You were excited that Bradley was moving in with you. To have a two bedroom apartment, he hardly had anything. It took you, Maverick, and the rest of the Daggers less than a day to pack up, move, and unpack all of his belongings. Granted, he was just moving from his floor to yours, but it still seemed like it went by fairly easy.

Bradley disliked the fact that you wouldn't let him help. He hated feeling useless. You did your best to help him through everything, but he was a stubborn man. He was so used to being on his own that it was hard for him to rely on someone else.

Just like you

But, both of you pushed through and found a good rhythm with each other. It also didn't hurt that your favorite way to get Bradley's mind off things was to give him a sloppy blow job. He wasn't a fan of not being able to return the favor, but you worked through that, too.

It took a little getting used to, but while he couldn't do much in the way of touching you, Bradley loved watching you touch yourself, so, when he was feeling down, you put on a show for him before treating him with your mouth.

..............

Finally, Bradley was able to go back to work. He still had to keep his arm in a sling, and he couldn't do much more than file some papers and proved support in the classroom, but it felt good for him to be on base after three months away. He was going stir crazy in the apartment.

Bradley was also attending physical therapy and getting stronger every day. He was counting down the days he was cleared for physical activity again. As soon as he was, he was clearing both of your schedules and not letting you leave your bed for a week.

He was going to have you in every filthy way he'd imagined and even some that he hadn't thought of yet.

He couldn't wait for the chance to strip you down and enjoy every inch of your body. He longed for the day that he could have you fully bare before him, and he could inspect every single one of the tattoos on your thigh and appreciate every detail, because now that he thinks about it, Bradley isn't sure if he's seen you totally naked. He's seen almost every piece of lingerie you own, but your full birthday suit was still a bit of a mystery to him.

He knows that you have something tattooed on your hip bone, but he's never seen all of it. Soon, he hoped, soon.

Bradley was shaken from his thoughts of your naked body when your fully clothed one appeared in front of him.

You were wearing your flight suit, getting ready for a training exercise with your class of recruits.

"Hello, Love." You greeted him warmly as he stood up from his desk to kiss you.

"I was hoping you'd come watch me fly, maybe listen in on the tower?" You asked as you batted your eyes in a way that you knew Bradley would find irresistible.

"Angel, I have so much work to get done before my PT today." Bradley told you.

"Please. I miss seeing you. I miss flying with you." You whined, hoping you change his mind. You looked up at Bradley with big doe eyes and bit your lip.

He sighed and shook his head. "Fine, you win."

"Yay! See you soon!" You cheered as you pranced out of his office. Bradley chuckled as he watched you walk away. You really did have him wrapped around your finger. And then, for a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind again. He thought back to his recent search history, and the important thing his mother had given him that was tucked away in a safety deposit box at the bank and how you always wore silver jewelry.

But then he told himself that it was too soon. You'd known each other for less than a year. You'd never even talked about what he was thinking about. Was it something you wanted? Because he didn't realize it was something he wanted until he met you.

Bradley doesn't allow himself to think too long about it, or else he'll start spiraling down the rabbit hole like he did a few nights ago.

Instead, he grabs his phone and water bottle a heads up to the tower to listen in on the training exercise.

He takes a seat beside Maverick who gives him a genuine smile.

You and Hangman have your classes set up in teams, working together to try and take the other down.

You and one of your students, Don, Bradley thinks is his call sign, are working against Jake and his student Gunner.

Bradley hears you and Don working together, trying to trap Jake and his wingman. He had to give it to the kid. He was good, not as good as you and Bradley together, but good nonetheless.

Eventually, the two of you end up taking down Hangman and his wingman, and Bradley doesn't hold back his cheers. Jake may be his friend, but nothing makes him happier than seeing his girl succeed.

Bradley and Maverick come out of the tower and make their way down to the tarmac. Jake is walking with his tail tucked in between his legs, mumbling about how he's losing his edge.

A few of the students pass Bradley, and he is waiting for you. He catches sight of you, chatting with one of the recruits. Bradley assumes that it's Don, who you were just flying with.

You've got your helmet off and have a big smile on your face as you speak. Bradley can't quite put his finger on it, but something doesn't sit right with him about your student.

He's tall, at least as tall as Bradley, and maybe a little bit broader in the shoulders. He's walking close to you, closer than he should be, and when he takes off his helmet, that's when Bradley sees it. The million dollar, panty dropping grin that he's seen Jake use more than once at the Hard Deck.

You're absolutely oblivious to it, but Bradley doesn't like it. An unfamiliar feeling creeps up inside him the closer the two of you get. Bradley can make out his features now. Don has dark hair and olive skin. He has a chiseled jaw line and piercing eyes.

You through your head back laughing at something he says be for shoving his arm. The sinking feeling in Bradley's gut flares up again as Don pushes you back. His hand a little lower on your arm than necessary to be considered friendly.

The two of you finally make your way up to Bradley.

"Lieutenant Holden, this is my wingman, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, call sign, Rooster." You smile as you introduce Bradley.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir, Lieutenant Jackson Holden. Call sign Adonis, but most people call me Don." The younger man induces himself with a wink.

"Nice to meet you." Bradley says politely.

Adonis, what a fucking douche bag call sign. It might be worse than Hamgman. This kid definitely reminds Bradley of a younger version of Jake. Now he's even more mad that he can't fly, because he'd love to knock him down a few pegs.

"That was some pretty good flying you did up there." Bradley says.

"Thank you, sir, but I can't take credit for it, Hades is a great teacher." Adonis says as he smiles at you again. You blush. "I've learned a lot from her so far, and some there are plenty of other things that she could teach me." He says slyly.

Bradley tries to remain composed, but this kid is really pushing his luck. "Well—" you begin, "Why don't we hit the locker rooms and meet up at the Hard Deck in an hour? Drinks are on me for winning today!" You announce.

The rest of your students cheer and peel off, Adonis lingers for a moment longer before leaving. Bradley immediately takes your hand in his and kisses you.

"So proud of you, Baby, but do you have to go out tonight?" He asks.

"C'mon, Bradley. It will be fun. Trust me." You say. And he did trust you, it was others that he didn't.

...............

The Hard Deck was filled with life when you and Bradley arrived. It took the two of you a little longer to get there because you had to help him get dressed and make sure his sling was secure. He couldn't wait to get it off next week.

Phoenix shoved each of you a beer the moment she saw you and brought the two of you over to the corner the Daggers had taken up residence at.

Bradley sat on a stool and sulked. The Hard Deck wasn't as fun for him right now. He couldn't play pool or play the piano. All he could do was sit and drink.

About twenty minutes after the two of you arrived, your students showed up. Adnois was the first to greet you. He had bought you a drink and handed it to you before giving you an overly friendly hug.

The kid was wearing a tight black v-neck shirt with a silver chain peaking out. Bradley felt that familiar pang of —not jealousy— Bradley didn't jealous—shoot through him as he watched the younger man's muscles ripple under his shirt.

Bradley couldn't help but feel bad. Every since he's been injured, his once toned body with chisled muscles had become—softer. He was still fit, but not liked he'd once been.

He took another sip of his beer and watched you chart with your students, Adonis still glued to your side. He was trying his best to flirt with you, but you were oblivious to it.

Thankfully, Phoenix came and grabbed you to be her partner for a pool game against Bob and Coyote.

Bradley cheered you on from the sideline as a few others—including Adonis, watched on.

You bent over to take a shot, and Bradley didn't miss the way the younger man's eyes raked over your form. How could he not?

You were dressed in a crimson top with off the shoulder straps. A tight pair of high-waisted black shorts over your ass. The way you bent over the pool table let Bradley know that you definitely weren't wearing underwear.

He noticed a few of your students wag an eyebrow at each other. Bradley was doing his best to keep his cool. You were their instructor. They should be more respectful towards you, not looking at you like you were a piece of meat.

He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. He was just about to give all of them, Adonis included, a piece of his mind, but Jake was pulling him to the side to ask him a question.

You'd finished your pool game at about the same time, and Adonis was quickly leaving his table with his friends to come and take up more of your time. You were sitting at on a bar stool, and he'd brought you another drink and was invading your space under the guise that the bar was busy.

You were about to look for Bradley when Adonis placed a hand on your knee to keep your attention.

You immediately pushed his hand away and were about to say something when Bradley appeared at your side with a fresh drink. He pushed his way between the two of you before curling his good hand at the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a hot kiss.

"Sorry, Angel, you just looked so pretty sitting over here, I couldn't help myself," Bradley said as you pulled apart.

Bradley turned back towards Adonis. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there, Donnyboy." Bradley smirked as he curled you against his side.

"No problem, l, sir—I wasn't aware that you two were a couple." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We don't really advertise it. People like to make assumptions, but we've been seeing each other for about six months." You tell him.

"Well—um— I think I hear Gunner calling for me. Have a good night, Commander, Lieutenant Commander." Adonis says before shuffling away.

"Bradley!" You exclaim as you push his good shoulder.

"What?" He looks at you innocently.

"You know exactly what." You shoot back. Bradley laughs and rolls his eyes at you. "I just didn't want that kid to get any ideas."

You gap at your boyfriend. You don't know if it's funny or sexy that he was jealous of one of your students. You take a look at his slightly flushed faced and puffed out chest and decide that it's sexy—definitely sexy. That's the only logical explanation as to why you're clenching your thighs together right now.

You grab Bradley's hand and pull him off his seat. You weave through the crowd and settle your tab with Penny before leading him outside. You're parked in a dark corner, and once you get to you car, you press Bradley against it for a heated kiss, which he happily returns.

"So you're not mad at me?" Bradley asks as you separate for air.

"Oh, on the contrary, Lieutenant Commander. I thought it was extremely hot that you were jealous. Never thought I'd see a little green-eyed Rooster appear on your shoulder." You quip.

"I wasn't jealous—I just needed Donnyboy to know that you were off limits." Bradley defends himself.

"I'm his instructor and commanding officer, I think he knows I'm off limits." You say.

"You're my commanding officer, too. Didn't stop me." Bradley counters. You huff out a laugh.

"Touché. But he's a twenty-something kid who has probably never made a girl cum in a his life. You're a grown man and the first person who hasn't let me down in a thousand years. There's no contest, Love." You tell him as your lips slowly dance across the scars on his neck and up to his chin. "You can admit that you were jealous, Bradley. I think it's hot."

"Maybe I was a little jealous, I didn't like the way he was looking at you. At least the kid has good taste, but he can be hot for teacher for someone else because I don't plan on sharing." Bradley practically growls as his lips find yours again.

You rub your hand over the fly of his jeans, and you can feel how hard he is for you. "Let's go home, Love. I plan on giving you the sloppiest of sloppy head so I can show you just how sexy I think you are." You whisper in Bradley's ear. He doesn't have to be told twice. He's yanking your door open before climbing in the passenger seat, ready to go.

Bradley is thoroughly keyed up by the time the two of you get home. He's practically dragging you to the bedroom, and slamming the door behind the two of you once you're inside.

You're moving painfully slow as you undress him, drawing out the process. Bradley is shifting impatiently from foot to foot. He's desperate to have your warm, wet mouth around his aching cock.

You've gotten him out of his shirt and shoes. Your hand moves to the button of his jeans. You grab his zipper and drag it down slowly. A whine, an honest to gods whine, left Bradley's lips as you did so.

"Someone's impatient." You smirked up at him as you slipped your hand into his boxers and grasped his length.

He was hot and heavy in your hand, his tip, leaking precum as you stroked him.

"Angel." Bradley groaned. You looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes before dropping to your knees and pulling his pants and underwear down in one swoop.

Bradley's cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. Now that you were eye level with it, you could see just how needy he was for you.

The ridged veins were prominent as all seven and a half inches of him stood at attention. His tip was flushed, an angry red with a pearl of precum beaded on the end.

Your tongue darted out of your mouth and wet your lips before it swiped along his slit. Bradley's knees buckled at the sensation.

You chuckle as you spit in your hand and wrapped it around him, pumping his cock, making him even harder.

"Baby—please—don't tease me." Bradley breathed out.

"Me? Tease you? Never." You winked at him as you stood up. "Go get on the bed, Love." You instructed him.

Bradley clambered up the bed and propped himself up on the pillows. You climbed on the edge and crawled towards him. The way you were leaning gave him a perfect view of your cleavage. You wasted no time running your tongue along the vein that ran the length of his cock, before spitting on the tip and letting it run down. You took him fully down your throat without warning, causing Bradley to buck his hips into your mouth.

You gagged and constricted your throat around him as you bobbed on his member before swallowing around him.

God, Bradley loved how your mouth felt on him. You knew exactly what to do to get him hurdling towards the edge.

He watched his length disappear into your mouth over and over again. He was enamored by the way he could see the outline of his cock in your cheek as you took him.

Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and dripped down on him. He had to give it to you. You made good on your promise to give him sloppy head, but every now and then, he would catch sight of the perfect way your top pushed your breast together.

The red fabric barely keeping them contained. If you worked him any harder, he was sure they would spill out.

Bradley uncurled his good hand from the sheets and threaded his fingers through your hair.

He pulled you off of him with a pop. You rested your chin on his thigh and covered the underside of his length with barely there kisses, you looked up at him and smiled before sitting up on your knees and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

When you sat up, his suspension that you weren't wearing a bra was confirmed because he could see the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your shirt.

"See something you like?" You asked him as he continued to marvel at you.

"Have I ever told you that you have the most gorgeous tits?" He blurts out. "A time of two." You smirk at him.

"Well, I'm telling you again. They are absolutely fucking beautiful shit—I wish I could—fuck—" He trails off.

"You wish you could what, Lieutenant Commander?" You probe him, knowing that using his rank will get him going.

"I want to fuck your titties." Bradley practically growls.

You let out a breathy laugh. "Okay."

"Okay?" Bradley questions you. You don't answer him.

Instead, you make a show of reaching behind your back and pulling down the zipper of your top. You slide it down your arms and toss it to the side. You step off the bed to grab the bottle of lube you keep in your nightstand before returning to Bradley.

You open the cap and seductively drizzle some of the cool liquid over both of your breasts. You close the bottle and toss it to the side before taking both hands and palming the soft tissue.

Bradley groans as you tease your nippes and trace your hands along the Greek letters you have tattooed under your breast.

Once they are sticky and shiny, you push them together before sliding them over Bradley's dick.

He arches his back so hard that he nearly comes off the bed.

You repeat the motion over and over, rolling, pulling, and squeezing your breasts around his cock.

A string of filthy moans and praises leave Bradley's lips as he thrusts his hip upwards to meet your movements.

He can feel the telltale sensation in his lower belly that he's about to cum. He grunts put a warning, "Fuck, Angel, I'm close."

"Come for me, Love, get me all messy!" You encourage him as you continue to work him over.

You pump him once, twice, three times before a deep groan reverberates from Bradley's chest and hot cum sputters from his tip, coating your breast and face in thick, white ropes.

You lick what you can from your face, and Bradley praises you for being suck a good filthy girl for him.

You quickly rinse off in the shower before helping him take one.

Once you're both clean, you snuggle up in bed together. You're content as you lay there with your head on Bradley's chest, drawing lazy shapes on his skin.

"Angel, can I ask you something?" Bradley breaks the silence.

"Hmm?" You hum back.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" Bradley feels you tense up in his arms.

You slip out of his grasp and sit up beside him.

"Married in general or married to you?" You ask him.

"Us getting married. I know we've only been together six months, but I've been thinking about it a lot." Bradley confesses.

"I've thought about it too. You, me, us in a house on the beach with a few kids running around. It's a beautiful thought. But—it's a pipe dream." You tell him. Bradley visibly deflates.

"What do you mean?" He's confused.

"Gods can't marry mortals. They can love them, have children with them, but not marry them." You say.

"Wh—why not? I don't understand." Bradley tells you.

"Marriage binds your souls together for eternity. That's how couples find each other in the Underworld. It's where the whole concept of soulmates comes from. Gods have immortal souls, and an immortal soul can't be bound to a mortal soul. We have different definitions for eternity. I'd marry you in a heartbeat if I could, Bradley." You admit with a tear in your eye.

"But—what about Hercules? He was a God and married a mortal." Bradley says.

"My nephew was a Demi-God. The best of both worlds. When Demi-Gods turn twenty-one, they can decide if they want to become immortal or human. He chose to be human for love." You explain to him.

You can see the hurt on Bradley's face.

"Bradley, Love, I may not be able to marry you, but I will love you for as long as you'll let me. We can live together, I can give you children if you want, I can manipulate my age so we can grow old together. And when we are old and grey, and you take your last breath, I can—well—I can make sure it's my last one, too. I can live a life with. I just can't be your wife." You let out a long sigh and search Bradley's eyes.

You can tell he is disappointed, but at the same time, you see the love he has for you. It hurts him that he can't make you his wife, but it doesn't mean he loves you any less.

"When it comes down to it, marriage is just a piece of paper, isn't it? As long as we love each other, the label doesn't matter. We can call it what we want." Bradley smiles as he pulls you closer to him.

You can feel the warm and love radiating off of him. It may not be perfect, but you wish you could stay in this moment with Bradley.

Because for the first time in your life, in this here and now with Bradley, you're enough.

It feels good to be enough

Taglist: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @roosterforme @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook02 @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @gretagerwigsmuse @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @roosterisdaddy36 @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @asshlyyyy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

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bobgasm · 7 months

Text

kingpin masterlist

ROBERT “BOB” FLOYD X OFC!EMERY YOUNG

MOB!AU

summary: in which responding to an advert for a job lands a down-on-her-luck accountant in bed with the local mob—in more ways than one… alternatively: in which he runs this motherfucking town warnings: eventual smut, nsfw [18+ only], alcohol, violence, character death, slow burn, slight age gap [f24/m30], suspicious behaviour, cavalier mentions of death, mentions of loss/grief, general mob shit, word count: [tbd]

author’s note: well, well, well. if it isn’t user bobgasm with a new fic

ongoing | masterlist

⦾ prologue ⦾ one ⦾ two ⦾ three ⦾ four ⦾ five ⦾ six ⦾ seven ⦾ eight ⦾ nine ⦾ ten ⦾ eleven ⦾ twelve ⦾ thirteen ⦾ fourteen ⦾ fifteen ⦾ sixteen ⦾ seventeen ⦾ eighteen ⦾ nineteen ⦾ twenty more to be added…

other content:

bought a hat moodboard gun for hire moodboard kingpin moodboard underboss moodboard kingpin playlist

oneshots:

⦾ bought a hat [fanboy] ⦾ gun for hire [hangman] ⦾ roll with the punches [payback] ⦾ underboss [coyote] ⦾ you and me [bob]

want more mafia!tgm? check out:

⦾ by the skin of your teeth by @goldenseresinretriever ⦾ illicit affairs by @bobfloydsbabe ⦾ two birds by @sailor-aviator

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #robert bob floyd x ofc #robert bob floyd x oc #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x oc #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #robert bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd fanfic #mafia!au #mafia!bob floyd #mob!bob floyd #mob!au #*kingpin

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bradshawsbaby · 9 months

Note

Hi!!! I Hope the beginning of the school year has been treating you well!

If you get a chance can I please request : melting because they just look so cute all bundled up in blankets with Hannix 💗

I am Forever in awe of how you write them together!

Thank you so much! It’s been exhausting, but good! And you’re so sweet! I hope you enjoy! 💕

With how much time the Dagger Squad spent in each other’s company—both on base and off—it was no surprise that if one member got sick, everyone else was sure to follow soon after. This time around, it had been Bob who had come down with the flu first, passing it on to Phoenix, who then passed it on to Bradley, who passed it on to Fanboy, who gave it to Payback, who then passed it along to Coyote.

Jake, meanwhile, had appeared immune, even while nursing Natasha back to health. He teased them all mercilessly about it, bragging that his immune system was more elite than all of theirs put together. The last time he had gotten the flu, he claimed, was when he was in the sixth grade.

Which was why no one was more surprised than Jake himself when he woke up one morning feeling like someone had dropped a ton of bricks onto his skull, his body alternating between aches and chills as his teeth chattered miserably.

He’d been home for three days now, and he was growing frustrated by how long recovery seemed to be taking. He was even more frustrated that his wife had taken to sleeping in their guest bedroom, insisting that he needed their bed to himself to rest and recuperate.

As much as she enjoyed poking fun at his “elite immune system,” Phoenix did feel bad about how miserable her husband was. She’d had the flu just a few weeks earlier, and she knew firsthand how much it could kick your butt. That was why, on her way home from work, she swung by the diner that she and Jake liked to go to on Saturday mornings and picked up a container of homemade chicken noodle soup for him.

It was growing late by the time she finally made it back home, and she was surprised to see that she had no missed calls or texts from Jake wondering where she was or checking to see if she was okay. She was hoping to take that as a good sign. He’d been having such a hard time sleeping these past few days, so maybe he’d finally managed to knock out.

“Bagman, I’m home,” Phoenix called out as she stepped through the front door, dropping her things in the living room before heading to the kitchen to put down the soup.

When there was no response, she frowned slightly and immediately made her way to their bedroom. Pushing open the door, it took her a moment to realize that the giant lump in the middle of the bed was, in fact, the man she had married. Stepping closer, she put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

Jake must have gotten cold while trying to take a nap because he was not only wrapped in their comforter, but also in the throw blanket they kept at the foot of the bed, as well as a spare blanket they kept in a chest in the corner or the room. He had bundled himself up tightly, hardly any part of him visible at all except for his forehead and nose.

Phoenix’s heart melted as she gazed at him. It was so rare that she got to see him like this, looking so innocent and vulnerable and almost fragile. It made her stop and take stock of just how much she loved him.

Kicking off the sneakers that she’d forgotten to leave on the shoe rack near the front door, she slowly climbed onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her swaddled husband, brushing his hair away from his forehead and pressing her wrist to his skin to gauge his temperature.

“Mmm,” Jake moaned softly, shifting slightly so that his cocoon loosened a fraction. Blinking his eyes open, he smiled tiredly at her. “I fall asleep alone and wake up with a gorgeous woman in my bed. Lucky me. Don’t tell me you’re a hallucination.”

Laughing, Phoenix kissed the top of his head and held him closer. “Nope. I’m the real deal,” she teased, loosening his blankets a little more to keep him from overheating. “How are you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” he murmured in a low voice, freeing his arms from the mound of blankets and wrapping them around her waist. “Stay here with me.”

“But I got you some soup,” she grinned, running her fingers through his sweaty hair. “Don’t you want me to go get it for you?”

Jake shook his head stubbornly, clinging to her even tighter. “Just stay.”

“So much for that rock solid immune system, huh?” Phoenix laughed, her amusement growing as her husband groaned against her side.

“I’m never going to live that one down, am I, Minx?” he asked with a sigh.

She grinned, her dark eyes twinkling as she looked down at him. “Not as long as I’m around.”

cozy and content prompts

#hannix drabble #hannix #hangman x phoenix #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #top gun: maverick

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goosewithtwoos · 2 years

Note

Rooster x female reader

I’m not sure if you take requests if not please feel free t ignore this

You were mavericks little girl and best friends with rooster sense what seemed like forever not knowing he had secret feelings for you but didn’t say anything because you were His dads best friends daughter,but he couldn’t help when everyone was at the bar and hangman was teasing you at pool and for the first time you let anger slip and used the pool stick to being hangman to his knees and held his chin up with the stick.

“You think your mother would be very proud of the man she raised talking like that”

Frothing at the mouth, let’s go :0 also i have no idea if you wanted some seccy moment but i wrote seccy anyways. dip out at any point bby

PUNK TACTICS

Cheers erupted from the crowd as Penny rang the ‘Free Round’ bell.

Some idiotic soul had insulted Phoenix who was out of uniform, saying that he could probably score better on the ASVAB.

You were standing with the other Top Gun graduates, hanging around the pool table, beer bottles scattered nearby. You probably didn’t need another round, but hell, if someone else was paying, you’d take a free drink.

Rooster stood, watching more than actually playing. He leaned his chin on the pool cue, aviators falling down to the bridge of his nose. His eyes flit between the action on the table and you.

Phoenix made her way back over, rolling her eyes at the wolf whistles but carried drinks in hand. She handed one to Bob who, bless him, was still nursing his first beer.

She passed another to Coyote and made an attempt to give one to Rooster, but he politely declined.

Phoenix raised a brow at him. It wasn’t often that Rooster declined a drink.

“I’m D.D tonight.” He explained. “Someone has to make sure she gets home safe.” He motioned towards you.

You would alternate between being designated drivers for each other for as long as you could remember. Whoever was driver would take the other home and make sure to set up a nice little array of advil and water so the following morning hangover would be lessened.

You and Rooster used to sleep over at each other’s houses - solely for the purpose of ‘if anything went wrong’ - but the amount of sleepovers seemed to have diminished as of late.

Phoenix just shrugged at Rooster, took a sip from her own bottle, and then handed you the one meant for Bradley.

He smiled, lop sided, as you took a sip. Your eyes were laser focused on the table, watching how Hangman was playing and trying to figure out the best way to screw him over.

Hangman hit two shots in a row, basking in the glory from Fanboy who was seemingly always hyping him up.

“Your turn, Mini-Mav.” He said to you, eyes glinting with the excitement of the game.

You had a call sign but no one from Top Gun used it. Ever since it was discovered that you were the daughter of Maverick, you became ‘Mini-Mav’.

It bothered you at first. You were your own person, damn it, not just your fathers daughter, but it eventually grew on you.

Your eyes found Rooster, who gave you a slight nod as encouragement, and lined up your shot. Your heart inexplicably began to quicken its pace but you attributed it to the game.

Your cue tapped the table lightly and Hangman whistled, low and slow. “My move.”

You groaned, righting yourself and smacking the end of your cue on the floor. “Come on,” you groan. “Are you serious?”

Hangman just shrugged and went to line up his shot.

“Rules are rules.” He said cooly. He hit another perfect shot and you wanted to tap out right then and there but knew you couldn’t. You had put money on this stupid game and were determined not to lose.

Hangman stood back up, moving around the table to get another shot. Rooster’s and Hangman’s eyes met, the two men trying to burn each other.

Neither was blind. You were undeniably attractive and both men were fighting for you. Rooster said he had claim, he’d known you forever, but Hangman swore he’d get you in the end. This game was going to determine winner.

As Hangman prepared for a shot, he made sure to get right in front of Rooster, successfully hitting him in the abdomen when he shot another round.

Rooster pressed his lips firmly together, trying not to show any sort of discomfort.

“Oh, sorry bud. Didn’t see you there.” Hangman said, turning and grinning. Your eyes darkened. No one was allowed to insult Bradley except for you. Making fun of him was your job.

Hangman looked towards you and noticed the way your expression had changed. “All right there, Mini?”

“Dandy, Bagman.” You grit out.

Maybe it was the alcohol talking but seeing Hangman hit Rooster was really rubbing you the wrong way. You had to make this game count.

You focused on each shot, hitting four in a row. No one spoke as you sunk the last ball, seemingly all holding their breath.

Hangman looked both angry and impressed but Rooster was smitten.

The look of determination across your face, they way your arms flexed in your black tee, all mixed with the fact that he was taking you home tonight left him with a dull ache.

He had to stop himself from staring by turning to Bob and joining the conversation with Phoenix.

You went to make another move but Hangman’s voice stopped you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this good, Mini.” He said, making a crude gesture with his pool cue, the double implication not lost to you.

You whipped your head around, ready to hit him. “Would you shut up for once in your goddamn life?”

Phoenix, Rooster and Bob all stopped and turned. Fanboy was stepping behind Hangman, ready to back him up in anything.

“Struck a nerve there, didn’t I? Never took you for a prude. Kinda thought you were like your daddy.” Hangman’s eyes danced between you and Penny who was smiling behind the bar, none the wiser of what had just been said.

That was it.

You struck Hangman in the chest with the end of your cue, sending him back and hunched over. A look of shock crossed his face but before he could stand back up, your cue was under his chin, forcing him to look at you.

“You think your mother would be proud of the man she raised talking like that?” You growled.

Fanboy grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back up. Both men were looking at you, shock in their eyes. You’d never lost your temper like this before.

Rooster was behind you in an instant, pressing a hand against your back. Phoenix was on your left, ready for a fight.

Penny had looked over but knew it was best to leave the group alone until it really turned physical.

“Jeez, doll, didn’t think you’d react like that.” He rubbed over the spot in his chest, holding back the whine in his throat.

“How’d you think I’d take it? You expect me to be okay with you making fun of my family?”

Something flashed across Hangman’s face. He wasn’t going to let you have the last word.

“I expected you to go crying to Goose - ah whoops, I mean Rooster.”

You lunged at Hangman, ready to swing a beautiful right hook but Phoenix had grabbed you, holding you back. Rooster was much too surprised to do anything and contemplated if he should tell Phoenix to let you go.

“I bet your taking the right piss there, aren’t you?” You yelled at him. Hangman was taking steps back, Fanboy going to stand between you two. “Or is it left, huh? I bet even in the tightest boxers, it’s so small you can’t even see which way it curves!”

You slipped from Phoenix’s grip but got caught by Rooster.

“Come on,” he said, picking you up from under the arms and dragging you across the bar. Penny’s eyes were on you, concerned. She shook her head slowly and watched as you got pulled through the crowd. “We’re going home.”

Once in the parking lot, Rooster set you down. You tried to run back in but he stood in front of you, body blocking.

“Just one swing!” You cried, trying to get past him.

He grabbed you again, holding you by the arms. His eyes bore down to yours, trying to get you to calm down.

“Take a deep breath.” He said.

You tried to do as told but remembering what Hangman had said - calling Rooster by his dad’s call sign - chocked you up again.

“Just forget about him. He’s stupid. You’re the biggest prude I know.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

You dropped your head. You didn’t want him to see the tears welling in your eyes. It was a nasty habit of yours to cry whenever you got mad and you hated when Rooster saw your tears.

“It’s not what he said about me.” You admitted, feeling a tear slip down. “It’s what he said to you.”

Roosters grip on you lessened. His breath hitched as he took in what you said. He knew you both cared for each other but watching you try to fight for his honor left his heart aching.

“Look at me.” He muttered. It wasn’t a command and more of a question.

Your head turned up, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. Your eyes were a bit red but thankfully you weren’t crying anymore.

His thumb wiped under your eye, picking up a trace tear that hadn’t fallen just yet.

“You don’t have to fight for me.” He said, heart beat racing. “I’m a big enough boy to fight my own battles.”

You finally met his eyes and you wanted to cry again. Something inside you switched when you looked at him.

You had known for a while that you loved him but you couldn’t tell what kind. Sure, you had grown up with him but that didn’t stop you from thinking of him in a few different ways. He was obviously handsome but he also was your best friend. He knew more about you than anyone else and when you had your heart broken for the first time, he was the first person you ran to.

Bradley held a special place in your heart that couldn’t be filled by anyone else.

“I know you are,” You whimpered out. “but he’s not allowed to say that to you.” You felt a bit childish but continued. “I’m the only one who’s allowed to make fun of you. You’re mine.”

The words were out before you could think hard enough to stop them.

They could be innocent but the two of you knew they weren’t. You were each other’s person. No one else could compete with the way you completed each other.

Your face flushed and it wasn’t from the beer. Roosters eyes searched your face, trying to figure out if he had understood you properly.

Your lip trembled again, embarrassment setting in.

Was he going to leave you here, alone on the porch of the Hard Deck? Assuredly not, since he was the one driving you home and your dad would have Roosters balls as a coin purse if he found out you were left alone at night. But now that meant you were going to have to sit in silence on the way home and then pretend everything was okay next time you ran drills together.

Rooster swallowed deeply and nodded. “I’m yours.”

He dipped down, pressing your lips together. You had no hesitation when you kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

It felt like everything fell into place. Finally, you had the boy of your dreams right where you wanted him and it felt so good to have him want you back.

His mustache tickled your upper lip. You smiled at the feeling, excitement bubbling in your chest.

He pulled back for a moment, hanging his aviators onto his shirt so they wouldn’t fall. You looked up at him, goofy smile forming across your face.

“You still driving me home?” You asked, tilting your head.

Rooster smiled down at you, hands making their way to your waist. “You bet I am.”

From the window, Bob and Phoenix were cheering. You groaned and pressed your face to his chest, waving at them blindly. Rooster laughed and gave them a thumbs up.

Once they had left, you pulled yourself from him and took a step back. You gripped his hand and gently pulled, leading him to the car.

“Am I allowed to say, ‘Take me to bed or lose me forever’?”

Rooster groaned, excitement flaring through him. “Show me the way home, honey.”

The two of you ran to the car, jumping in and pulling out of the parking lot before you even had your seatbelts on.

Rooster sped to your house in record time. You grabbed his hand, leading him through the door and towards your room.

Once inside, you kissed him again, removing his aviators and placing them gently onto your dresser.

You walked him backwards towards the bed and when his knees hit the edge, you pushed him down, enjoying the way he made a little “oomf” sound.

You sat atop of him, grinding your hips down. He moaned into your mouth, pawing at the hem of your shirt.

You took the initiative to take off his, throwing the fabric across your room. He got the hint and pulled at yours, allowing your shirt to join his on the floor.

He broke away, taking his time, committing your chest and every little freckle to memory.

You raked your fingers across his abs, watching how they flexed under your touch. His hips bucked when you got close to his v-line.

His hands came up to your fly, toying at. “Can I?” He asked, looking at you like a hopeful puppy.

You nodded, unsure if you could trust your voice.

Before he got your shorts down, he stopped. His eyes flitted up to yours, hesitation slowly crossing his features.

“You’re not drunk, right?”

God, you fell even more in love with him everyday.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’m not drunk. I want this.”

“Thank God.” and with that, he caught your lips again, pulling your shorts down. You had to get off him to pull them down fully and he whined at the loss of contact.

He scooted back on the bed, pulling at his own jeans as he did. He laid in his boxers, watching as you undressed.

You tried to remind yourself that this was Rooster. Not ever Rooster - this was Bradley.

Still, you left your bra and underwear on, slightly embarrassed that they weren’t a matching set. You made a mental note to go shopping soon.

He propped himself onto his elbow, enjoying the show as you crawled over and on top of him.

His eyes were so inviting and his scent was captivating. Your heart swelled as you looked down on him.

Rooster, Bradley, the boy you’ve loved, was beneath you and smiling. He placed his hands on your bare hips, drawing circles with his thumbs.

“Hi.” You said foolishly, unsure of anything better to say.

His smile only grew. “Hi.” He replied, eyes dancing around your facial features. “You’re really pretty.”

You dipped your head down into the crook of his neck and laughed. “Shut up.”

“I’m just making up for lost time.” He said. He cradled the back of you head and locked his legs around your waist. In a swift motion, you were beneath him, staring up into his dark brown eyes.

He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, removing his hand from behind your head. He trailed down, leaving soft kisses against your collar bone.

His lips found your hipbones, kissing each one gently before finding their way between your thighs.

You looked down, watching his hand come up and slowly massage your inner thigh. He pressed his nose against your core and another wave of arousal shot through you.

You let out a soft whine as he began to press his nose deeper, leaving soft kitten licks every once and a while.

Your hand found his hair and he hummed in appreciation.

He soon became relentless, lapping at you through your panties and gripping harshly at your thigh. His hips ground against the bed, seeking his own friction.

You felt yourself clench around nothing and cried out as his nose hit your clit perfectly.

“Please, Bradley, I need you.” It was so pitiful you surprised even yourself.

He pulled himself up and back to his original position, hovering slightly over you.

“I’m going to have to prep you first, baby girl. You are the biggest prude I know, after all.”

You went to say something snarky back but lost all words when he pressed a finger against your core, slowly teasing your entrance.

He slipped it in and began rocking back and forth, watching your reactions to see what made you scrunch your nose in discomfort and what made you moan.

He slowly added a second finger, checking your reaction. You moaned out as he pressed against your g-spot and felt your orgasm slowly start to build.

“Roos,” you moaned out, gripping at his bicep. Lord, when had he gotten this buff? “Please, more.”

Bradley chucked, leaning down to capture your lips. He pressed his thumb against your clit as he added a third finger.

Never going too fast, Rooster kept a steady pace, opening you up on his fingers.

When he pulled his fingers out, you whined at the loss. He smirked against your lips, pulling down his boxers.

He sat up quickly, fully removing them and tossing them aside. He found his discarded jeans and pulled out a condom from the pocket, quickly putting it on.

“Presumptuous, huh?” You joked, glad for the lighthearted moment.

He smirked, adjusting the condom so there would be no accidents. “I always have one when I go out. Don’t think too much about it.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. He chuckled and grabbed your thigh again. When you looked back, his eyes found yours and then glanced down, questioningly, at your panties.

You swallowed your fear and nodded. He took his time, pulling down the fabric, drinking in the sight of you.

“Let me know if you need me to slow down.” He told you, grabbing you under the knee and coming back to hover over you.

He slowly sunk into you, moaning out at the sensation.

You tensed, hissing at the feeling. It had been a long time since you’d done this and it was a completely different sensation.

Perhaps you just hadn’t liked the other ones as much as you thought you had because the way Bradley was leaning over you made you feel like heaven on earth.

He moved slowly, allowing you time to adjust to his size.

“God, you feel so good around me.” He moaned.

You whimpered in response, brain clouding over in pleasure.

Slowly, you felt the pain melt into intense pleasure. Your building orgasm started rapidly approaching.

“I’m not gonna last long.” You tell him as he began rocking his hips fast.

“Me neither.” He said, bringing his fingers down to work your clit.

You cried out, throwing your head back further into the pillows. You grip back onto his bicep, feeling how he tensed beneath your touch.

He worked your clit as you felt the coil in your abdomen tighten. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, not wanting to miss a second of having him above you.

His curls bounced with each thrust and his biceps tensed. A sheen layer of sweat was covering his forehead and his eyes changed between watching you and watching where he was entering you.

“Brad-Bradley!” You cried out, trying to hold yourself back from cumming embarrassingly early.

He kissed the inside of your neck, making you clench around him. He nipped the sensitive section of skin, thrusting his hips faster.

“Let go, darling, I got you.” And with that, you were cumming around him, eyes finally shutting as your orgasm flowed through you.

Bradley pulled out, jerking off until he came into the condom.

He rolled off you, catching his breath. You turned towards him, watching the way his chest heaved.

“Shit…” He muttered. “If I had known you felt that good, I would have admitted my feelings a long time ago.”

You laughed, swatting at his arm.

He smiled back before getting to his elbows, trying to stand. He groaned as he got up, unsteady legs taking him to the bathroom. He came back quickly, damp wash cloth in hand and gently cleaned you.

When he was done, he went to your dresser where you had kept a small section for his clothes. He pulled out a pair of his gray sweatpants and tossed them to you. For himself, he chose black sweats.

He went to the bathroom, leaving the washcloth in the sink.

Back in your room, you had put his gray sweatpants on and was making yourself comfortable underneath the covers.

Rooster came back, smiling at your sleepy figure.

He got into the bed, turning you onto your side and pulling you close. His head resting onto your shoulder, arms wrapped protectively around your waist.

“Hangman’s never going to talk to you like that again.” You muttered, half asleep already.

Bradley chuckled, snuggling deeper into you.

You slept better that night than you had in a long time. You had put Hangman in his place, and the boy you loved in your bed.

#rooster smut #rooster x reader #rooster x reader smut #bradley bradshaw #bradly bradshaw #bradley bradshaw smut #bradly bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradly bradshaw x reader #top gun smut

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

Text

Top Gun Scenario Game - Valentines Day Addition

(Link to Scenario Games Masterlist)

Rules/What you do: Just match the month/day/letter to yourself and you got yourself a cute little scenario to imagine lol. I know these come off as a data farming thing, but I don't want your data lol. So don't even bother reblogging with your own info if you don't want to, but reblogs are still appreciated, so others can play along as well.

A/N: I also take these scenarios as writing requests as well (only when requests are open obviously- and it depends on the character). Also, there are only like 4 female characters in these movies, so I just put them in randomly lol.

*words in (parentheses) are alternate options/additions.

Your Birth Month:

January: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

February: Your Choice

March: Nick 'Goose' Bradshaw /or/ Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace

April: Ron 'Slider' Kerner

May: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

June: Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia /or/ Penny Benjamin

July: Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky

August: Javy 'Coyote' Machado /or/ Callie 'Halo' Bassett

September: Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell

October: Robert 'Bob' Floyd

November: Beau 'Cyclone' Simpson /or/ Charlie Blackwood

December: Reuben 'Payback' Fitch

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Your Date of Birth:

1: Takes you on a picnic. 2: Buys you your favorite flowers. 3: Surprises you after being gone. 4: Takes you to a fair. 5: Makes you dinner. 6: Buys you a giant stuffed animal. 7: Gets you your favorite chocolates/candy. 8: Gives you hand-picked flowers. 9: Takes you to mini golf (or bowling) 10: Writes you a love letter. 11: Takes you to a fancy restaurant. 12: Takes you stargazing. 13: Sets up a pillow fort for a movie night. 14: Gives you random gifts throughout the day. 15: Dances with you around the house /or/ takes you out dancing 16: Takes you to a museum. 17: Gives you a handmade gift. 18: Takes you to the beach (or takes you sailing) 19: Takes you to the (drive-in) movies. 20: Gives you a promise ring. 21: Takes you on a trip. 22: Gives you homemade chocolates/cookies/etc. 23: Writes you an anonymous love letter. 24: Takes you to an arcade. 25: Gives you a necklace/ring/bracelet/earrings. 26: Cooks dinner with you. 27: Takes you to an aquarium. 28: Surprises you with breakfast. 29: Takes you to an observatory. 30: Leaves you cute notes randomly throughout the day. 31: Surprises you with a weekend away.

------

First Letter of Your Username (Or Name):

Bonus: 'And...''

A-G: It is your first Valentines Day as a couple.

H-M: They ask you to be their s/o

O-U: It is also your anniversary.

V-Z: They propose to you

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I apologize if your combo/matchup does not make sense, it is hard to make sure that every single combination does.

I know these come off as a data farming thing, but I don't want your data lol. So don't even bother reblogging with your own info if you don't want to, but reblogs are still appreciated, so other can play along.

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

Top Gun Taglist: @malindacath, @hotch-meeeeeuppppp, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @stargirl-05, @persephonesportal, @springflwer07, @pockyandme, @iceman-kazansky, @soultrysworld, @averyhotchner, @linkxneptune, @creativitybeware, @callsignmaverick5, @phoenix1389, @writerfulltime,

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sebsxphia · 1 year

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i have no impulse control so gonna do this for the entire squad now hehe

phoenix talks to your pussy when she's eating you out and fingering you. less pussy drunk than rooster, but loves giving praise

"you're so wet for me, look so good clenched around my fingers. want me to kiss you, babygirl? you want my lips on yours?"

payback talks to your pussy and tits, sometimes your ass too. he's in love with your body and it's a way for him to be a little goofy with you. he'll smack your ass when you walk in front of him and say, "mmm, look at you bounce, sweet thing"

bob and fanboy are king pussyeaters and pussytalkers. they're more gone than rooster tho. just mumbling their unfiltered, nearly incoherent thoughts into your pussy while they're eating you out. in between licks and kisses you'll hear, "s' pretty, you s' pretty baby", "taste so good, wan' stay here all day", "so soft an' sweet." fanboy will even be so gone he'll alternate between english and spanish without noticing

javy, like his bestie, is a titty talker. he especially loves to do it when you're wearing lingerie. he'll cup your breasts and say, "ooh pretty ladies, did you two get all dressed up for little ol' me?" when you're on your period and they're sore, he'll massage them and say, "s'alright, daddy's gonna take good care of you two"

YA GONNA GIVE ME THIS FOR THE ENTIRE DAGGER SQUAD???? FOR FREE MY DEAR ANON?????????

how would you like to receive the biggest smooch from me because i simply have no impulse control either <33

firstly, phoenix. is she talking about your pussy lips or your mouth lips?? either or, i want both, please and thank you. secondly, payback is so real!! oh my god!! he will smack your ass and tell you how much he loves it bouncing all. the. time. in public or at home, nothing will stop him.

bob and fanboy???? nothing but the truth was spoken here!! they would get so messy too, their salvia and your cum dripping over your cunt, thighs and bedsheets. i’m reeling at fanboy switching between english and spanish without noticing omg!!

and javy??? with the sore tits when you’re on your period?? oh my god!! he would love nothing more than to take care of his girls.

thank you, thank you, thank you for this my dear anon!! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado #rueben payback fitch #mickey fanboy garcia

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simpledyiing · 2 years

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The Bet - Pt II Maverick Ending

Top Gun: Maverick

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell X Reader, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader (One-sided)

This is the second part of this fic just my alternative ending with my baby boy, Mav

The Rooster ending is linked here

Y/CS/N - Your Call Sign

Part I

After ten minutes of going back and forth with Hangman on the terms and conditions if you won, yall finally settled on rooster doing a week's worth of cleaning, as well as rooster not only reclaiming his title of Y/N’s Bitch but also Hangman’s, the cherry on top Bradley Bradshaw would have to confess his “love” to Hangman and serenade him with “You’ve lost that lovin feeling”… Hangman wasn’t thrilled over that clause of the agreement, but he already knew he wasn’t going to change Y/N’s mind about it. Phoenix was the first one to speak after Y/N laid out her winning prize “Why the hell does bagman get to have birdbrain as his bitch for a week but not me?” Y/N’s eyes light up “Because phoenix we all know if Bradshaw was your bitch for a week, he would come back a changed man…. And not in a good way. The most Seresin will do is try an knock Bradshaw’s ego down a bit. Plus Hang is letting me count this as an early birthday gift!” With a roll of her eyes, phoenix cast her gaze to Rooster “Bradshaw, what about you?” Rooster wasn’t really paying attention to the conversation but still let out a curt “what?” Coyote cleared his throat having enough of the back and forth, even if it was entertaining he just wanted the game to start “What do you want if you win against Y/N…” Rooster looked between coyote and Y/N, his expression blank even with fanboy and coyote throwing out suggestions “maid outfit + Y/N????”, “Y/N buys the next round of drinks” Y/N already knew what was going to slip past his plush lips as they curlling up into a smirk “Simple, Y/N goes on a date with me” Laughter filled the room “are you serious! You could have anything?? Are you serious right now?” coming from Fanboy…Until it fell into silence He was being serious, it was plain and simple what Lt. Bradley Bradshaw wanted, and with that Y/N slowly put her hand out for him to shake to agree on the terms.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw lost but he reclaimed the highest title a man could hold.. At least in his eyes “Y/N’s BITCH” and unfortunately Hangman’s bitch was attached to this title.

Y/N had a feeling something was off after her victory, Bradshaw wasn’t even the least bit upset about the loss, which is a polar opposite to his last week's failure. Y/N didn’t really have time to contemplate it more than that when Hangman picks her up overly excited and planted a kiss on both cheeks “Sweetheart this might be the Best Birthday Gift I have ever received!” as Y/N was set back down to her original height, she turned to look up at Hangman’s smiling face as it morphed into a sinister smirk.

Hangman’s torturing of Rooster started right away, not wanting to waste a single second of his birthday gift. Y/N almost felt sympathetical towards Rooster.. Keyword: Almost.

Y/N took one last look at Rooster twerking via Hangman’s request and took that as her cue to resume her previous activity however, favored the seat next to Maverick instead of the seat next to Fanboy bickering with Bob and Coyote. Maverick pushed a drink towards Y/N with a warm smile “I wouldn’t be surprised if Bradshaw tries an kill Seresin.” looking back at the mentioned pilots Y/N merely shrugs her shoulder “two birds one stone, type of scenario” Maverick simply shakes his head at the younger pilot but doesn’t shift his gaze back to see Rooster trying to choke Hangman, instead he kept looking at Y/N.

Y/N started to feel antsy under Maverick’s gaze, before her brain caught up with her body a whiny “whhaat?” slipped out. The captain simply raised a brow at her, waiting patiently for her to continue “why are you looking at me like that?” seconds after those words filtered out Maverick’s brow dropped, and a wide suggestive smirk spread across the aging pilot’s face. “Oh Nothing Y/CS/N, Just curious if you want your original prize?” it took Y/N a moment to actually process his words before her lips curled into a devilish smile to match Mav’s “Yes, Sir….” Y/N and Maverick didn’t realize but her ESCs were eavesdropping on them, Phoenix was just happy you were finally getting head from Maverick, while Bob just sat their mouth gapped, shocked at what he overheard.

Until Phoneix snapped her fingers in front of him, for him to come back to reality as Bob blurted “ I guess Rooster didn’t lie to her, she can have anything her heart desires”

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itwasalladreamsblog · 2 years

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Fight or Flight? (chapter 6)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick’s Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Warnings: this chapter is a bit of a different one. We delve into a somewhat stigmatized but very relevant topic here, being that of periods/menstruation. I understand this can be a confronting or uncomfortable subject for some, or maybe even a triggering one. Please only read ahead if you feel comfortable doing so, and it is more than okay if you don't!! There will be mentions and descriptions of blood, nausea, pain, etc.

I had a bit of a debate as to whether or not to include this chapter in this story, but I feel as though it is a sensitive and important topic that we are continuing to work on to normalise in today's society.

Another note: soft Hangman! Don't worry, he isn't here to stay... for now...

Another another note: sincere apologies for this essay-length chapter!

The nausea and pain consume you quickly. Your control over your plane lessens rapidly as you use every ounce of self-restraint to not hurl up your entire insides in the box. In the air with Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy as your wingmen, and your dad on the attack, Rooster calls out to you over the coms ‘Duke, you good?’.

‘Permission to land’ you breathe out shakily, silently begging your dad to let you down. ‘Permission granted. Duke you okay?’ your dad replies. You don’t respond, making an immediate beeline for the tarmac, so quickly that your dad has to remind you to pull up as you try to land too steeply.

You barely make it out of the box before you hastily cast off your helmet and sink to the ground, throwing up all over the tarmac. Once you catch your breath, you force yourself up, staggering your way inside to the locker room. You make it into a compartment just in time before another wave of sickness slams you. ‘Can someone grounded go and check on her?’ your dad calls out to the team over the coms.

When you’re finally certain there’s nothing further your body can possibly heave, you carefully sit up, silently reprimanding yourself for not having seen this coming.

Assessing the damage, the blood has travelled everywhere. Your flight suit is visibly stained. Crying was usually an unprecedented emotion for you, but at this moment, it was the only reaction appropriate to exhibit. You feel absolutely terrible, but even worse so, you had embarrassed yourself in front of your entire squadron, displayed for all to see on the tarmac.

‘Duke, you in here?’ Hangman’s voice radiates through the locker room. You sigh quietly to yourself, thinking about how many short straws you’d drawn today, Hangman coming to your aid out of all possible alternatives.

Hoping he will accept your response and leave, you struggle to control your voice as you whisper out a strained 'Yep'. To your dismay, you hear Hangman follow the faint trail of your voice. He stops by the door that you currently hide behind. A gentle knock sounds at the door. ‘What’s going on?’ Hangman asks, ‘You okay?’ he continues.

Your vulnerability soon gives in as it becomes clear that he will not be fooled by your response. ‘I.. um…’ your voice officially breaking, ‘I um.. I got.. I got blood on my uniform’ you say, choking the words out. ‘Oh’ Hangman speaks as he puts two and two together. ‘You don’t need to be ashamed, or embarrassed’ he continues. ‘I can help you, if you’d like’ Hangman says after a few moments, an odd sense of tenderness detectable in his voice. Although surprised by his sentiment, you say nothing as you just open the compartment door, throwing both pride and caution to the wind in your acceptance of the aid, knowing your level of desperation.

Your face is tear-stained, and your braided hairline sweaty, flight suit hanging around your waist. He takes you in. The blood on your hands, and largely visible on your suit. Hangman stands there, looking at you for a few moments, silently.

You half expect him to laugh, or to affirm that his offer was out of jest, but he doesn’t. ’Do you have spare clothes?’ Hangman asks softly, his eyes wide with a concern you’d never seen before. You shake your head, biting your lip, unable to speak. He walks away for a few minutes and then returns with something black in his hands. He holds out some black sweat shorts to you. You don’t have it in you to reach out and take them, you just look at him.

‘Can I help you?’ he asks gently when you make no effort to take them. Although still slightly skeptical of his motives, you nod your head in a final acceptance of defeat, understanding you truly do need his help. With tears still rolling down your cheeks, you stand up and he steps forward, slowly closing the space between you. He reaches out towards you, but he stops before he makes contact, giving you one final look questioningly, silently begging you for permission once more. You nod again as you try to control the nauseous feelings gnawing at your insides.

Hangman’s hand finds the zipper of your flight suit at your waist. He crouches down in front of you, zipping it the rest of the way down. He then signals for you to place each of your feet on his lap and he unties your boots, removing them one by one and placing them down gently next to him. You put your hands on his shoulders as he guides the suit the rest of the way down past each of your legs. You stand there exposed in your black tank top and stained underwear, blood marking your thighs.

‘Do you have what you need?’ Hangman asks, making no effort to stare anywhere except your eyes in your bare state. You nod and point in the general direction of your locker. He leaves you briefly and returns with your bag and some damp paper towels. Hangman holds one of the towels gently to your forehead and then offers you the rest. You begin to wipe gently at the blood on your inner legs.

Hangman then helps you into his shorts. You manage a sniffly laugh as you take in your appearance in Hangman’s too-big shorts for your small frame. He chuckles too as he helps you fold them over a few times so that they manage to hold up on your waist. Afterward, he gives you a moment of privacy to do what you need.

When you walk back out into the locker room he speaks, ‘I think everyone is still in the air but um, let’s get you home, hey?’ he says lightly. You muster a nod, nausea, and pain not yet at bay. He grabs his keys and helps you out of the base building, one hand on your waist, supporting you, and the other holding onto your flight bag for you.

Hangman helps you into his car and then sends a text to Coyote, letting him know that he’s taking you home as you’re unwell and asking him to pass this on to Maverick and the rest of your friends, surely worried about your wellbeing. You close your eyes, trying to control the pain and nausea as Hangman begins to drive. He takes his hand and places it into yours briefly, squeezing it slightly, comforting you.

The gesture takes you by surprise, but at the moment you welcome the comfort. ‘Where do you live?’ Hangman asks quietly as you reach the base gates. You whisper your address to him. A few minutes into the drive, a realisation falls upon you. You gently turn your head to Hangman ‘I didn’t bring my key’ you say, sighing. ‘Oh’ Hangman responds ‘That’s okay, I’ll just take you to my place for now, if that's okay with you?' he asks. You nod, currently desperate to flee to anywhere with access to pain medication.

You must have dozed off in the drive because when the car comes to a sudden halt, you cannot recall the rest of the journey to your destination. Hangman unbuckles you and helps you out. He leads you through to his apartment. He points out the relevant rooms to you as you pass them, a supportive hand around your waist again. Once inside, he helps you down onto his couch.

Hangman works quickly, sourcing you pain relief and anti-nausea medication, as well as water and a heating pack. ‘Hey’ he says gently after providing you with everything you could possibly imagine, ‘I’m just going to duck back to base quickly, let everyone know you’re okay, fix up our planes, get your key’. You nod understandingly, silently thanking him. ‘You do whatever you want, eat, shower, sleep. Wash your clothes. Order anything you want, watch anything you want. Whatever you need okay?’. You nod once again, trying to process the uncommon kindness he had shown you today. As he leaves quietly, he shoots you a small smile, lacking the usual smirk you had become accustomed to.

You take the medications and shower, letting the warm water soothe you. Afterward, you put on a shirt that you find he had left out for you and place your soiled clothes in the wash. You lie down on the couch, anticipating for the medications to take their effect.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@chaoticgay13

@bobafett-tea

@adaydreamaway08

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #hangman #jake seresin #top gun #top gun maverick #hangman x reader

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