#tg fic

[icezansky]

a fic by Icezansky

chapter 1/?

rating: Explicit

summary: Nonsensically, as the Admiral steps up to the podium, the first thing that Maverick notices is that he’s wearing his wedding ring. The second thing he notices is that Tom’s looking at him, too. And, of course, he recognizes him. There’s a brief flash of panic in his gaze before he’s turning a wide, disarming smile on the group at large - his reaction to Maverick disappearing under a veneer of civility and professionalism in an instant.

A Sugar Daddy Iceman AU.

relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Sarah Kazansky & Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

tags: Sugar Daddy, Marriage of Convenience, Hook-Up, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Making Out, Power Imbalance, Age Difference, Pete Mitchell fucks that old man, no bets we die like goose, Other Additional Tags to be Added

words: 9,286

#icezansky fic #top gun fic #tg fic #icemav #icemav fic #sugar daddy fic #shut off the lights

[tngrace]

Prologue

And here we go finally! Part 1 of Maverick Chronicles. Will update on Fridays. Enjoy!

Tumbler: Masterlist: Main, Mav Chronicles ; A03

Even at five, Pete knew his world was changing. The men on the porch caught his mom when she went down, but he’s not sure he’ll ever forget her cries. She’d always been a little distant when his dad was away, but when his dad never came back, he lost his mom as well. She stayed in her room, only emerging to get another drink and restart the song. He hated that song. He’s not surprised when he comes home from school one day a year and half later to find officers at his house and his mom is gone. He doesn’t cry; he lost his mom a long time ago. 

None of his relatives wanted him; he was a young child who had already been through too much. He was already acting out at school, getting into trouble, but no one took the time to see that he just needed a little attention, a little love. When none of his aunts would take him, he was placed in the system; a system that wasn’t very kind to him. A system that reinforced his beliefs that no one would want him, that he was inherently bad, that he deserved all the pain and heartache he received. But what he didn’t know was that someone was fighting for him; someone, two someones, wanted him very much. 

When he was eight and a half, Mike and Carrie started to come visit. He vaguely remembers Mike working with his dad, but it takes a couple of visits before he warms up to them. The social worker is surprised with how well-behaved and nice Pete is when he is with Mike and Carrie. But they talk to him, they listen, they give him attention and they’re nice to him. He likes them, and he really likes when Mike tells him stories about his dad. He trusts them, and he’s always so sad when they leave. He doesn’t show it, showing his tears are a weakness in his current foster father’s eyes, but he always cries for a solid hour when Mike and Carrie leave. He’s always so surprised when they come back too. 

On their fifth visit they bring their daughters Catherine and Jamie with them. Cat’s three years older than him, but she plays with him on each visit, and she seems nice. Jamie is almost one, and she loves using Pete to pull up on. She grins at him every time she does it, and Pete can’t help but smile at her. After their tenth visit, his social worker asks if he’d like to go live with them. He doesn’t believe it, doesn’t believe they could want him full time, but he’s honest and says yes. A week later they’re in front of a judge, and he has to answer a bunch of questions honestly. When it’s over, Carrie pulls him into a hug that’s so tight, he’s sure he’s going to snap in half. “Want to go get your stuff kiddo?” Mike asks. 

“I’ve got it,” he says nodding to the backpack that’s beside him. 

He sees Mike and Carrie share a look, and he’s afraid he’s already messed up. 

“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping; or maybe when we’re back home.” 

“I’m fine,” Pete promises. He has all his important mementos and pictures in his backpack with two pairs of jeans and shirts. 

Mike gently squeezes his shoulder, but he agrees with Carrie. “Let’s get back to the room, get some food, and book the tickets home.” 

It’s a whirlwind after that, and before Pete knows it, he has his own room in a house on the beach in California. His room is between the girls, and they let him decorate it anyway he wants. It takes several months of being there, probably closer to a year if he’s being honest, before he relaxes into the fact that his room isn’t going anywhere. He starts putting his pictures out on the dresser. There’s the one of him and his dad with his dad’s plane in the background. Then there’s the one picture of the three of them where they were happy. When he comes home from school one day, he finds them in a frame next to his bed and he tries not to cry. He finds Carrie in the kitchen cooking; “Thank you,” he tells her quietly from the doorway. 

“For what sweetheart?” 

“Putting my pictures in a frame. I… I was always afraid they’d get ruined and I’d lose them.” 

Carrie kneels down for a hug, but she always waits for him to come to her. Pete runs into her arms, clinging tight. 

“You’ll never have to worry about losing them again Pete. We can even make some copies just in case, if you want.” 

Pete nods against her shoulder, as he buries his face in her neck. “Thank you mama,” he whispers. 

It’s the first time he has called her that, even though both she and Mike have told him they would be more than happy with whatever he called them, but that it was ok to think of them as mom and dad now. She hugs him tighter trying not to cry, and that is how Mike finds them after getting Cat started on her homework and getting some hugs from his two year old. 

“Everything ok?” he asks quietly, so as not to startle Pete. 

“Yea…. Yea. Everything is perfect,” Carrie gets out. Thankfully, Pete doesn’t notice the tears in her voice, but Mike does. He cocks his eyebrow at her, and she gives him a watery smile. 

Even though he’s almost ten now, Carrie picks him up and holds him. Mike walks closer and wraps his arms around them both. Pete lets out a shuddering breath as he clings to Carrie tighter. He feels safe; he feels loved, and he has for the last year. 

After a few minutes, Pete wiggles down, giving them a blinding smile before he’s off to do his own homework with Cat while Jamie runs around their feet. 

“What happened?” Mike asks once Pete is gone and Carrie falls into his arms letting the tears fall. 

“He thanked me for the picture frame and called me mama.” 

Mike’s arms tighten around her and he smiles. It took a little longer than they expected, but Pete was finally settled; he was home. 

It takes another year before he calls Mike “dad.” Pete had been sick, and Carrie couldn’t get out of work for the day. Even though it was generally frowned upon, Mike had brought him to base to rest in his office while he had class. He didn’t have any hops that day, so he figured it would be fine. When Mike comes back from class, Pete is curled on the couch in Mike’s sweatshirt, looking awful. 

“Alright kiddo, ready to go home?” Mike asks, brushing the hair off his forehead. 

Pete is burning up, so Mike gets him some more meds and then helps him up. It’s a struggle to get Pete to take them, but he finally manages to get them down, and he rests his head against Mike’s abdomen where he’s standing in front of Pete. His fingers are brushing through Pete’s hair in the way that always calms him, and Pete lets out a shuddering breath. “Don’t feel good, Dad,” he whines. 

Mike has to force himself not to react and freak Pete out, but he feels the lump in his throat all the same. “I know bud. Let’s get you home and into bed. How’s that sound?”

“Will you stay?” Pete whispers. 

“As long as you want,” Mike promises. He helps Pete up, and gives him his aviators to hide behind even though they’re way too big on the kid, and then leads him out of the office. Once home, Pete curls into his side in bed and promptly falls asleep. That’s how Carrie finds them once she gets home. 

At sixteen, Pete starts asking Mike questions about the Academy and joining the Navy. He wanted to be a pilot just like both his dads. Mike was more than pleased to answer any and all of Pete’s questions, and he snuck him on base over summer break more than he probably should’ve. But Pete had him wrapped around his little finger since the day he was born. Mike worked for those two years to get the mission he’d flown with Duke declassified so the truth could be revealed, but it was to no avail. He knew the rumors that swirled around the Navy, and he knew Pete was going to have a hard go at it, but he was still surprised when the rejection letter came. To say Pete was heartbroken was an understatement, and when he asked Mike why he thought he didn’t get in, Mike told him the truth as much as it killed him. Mike watched his carefree teenager transform before his eyes. It was the same stubbornness and determination he’d seen in his long deceased wingman that shown in his kids eyes now, and he knew nothing would stop Pete from finding a way. 

What did surprise him was Pete wanting to cut off all contact with them. Pete thought he was protecting Mike and explained it as such. Carrie was able to convince Pete that he was still able to write to her or the girls so they didn’t lose full contact with him, and Mike was relieved. He wasn’t ready to let his kid go just yet. Pete fast tracked through college, and before Mike knew it, his kid was in flight school. It was there that he met Nick and Carole, who took him into their little family like it was nothing. Mike was glad to see him gaining friends and support outside of them, and he hoped it would be a good thing for Pete. Nick and Pete seemed to click so well, and Mike wasn’t all that surprised when he’d heard they were a pilot/RIO pair. He even understood when Pete changed his emergency contacts to Nick and Carole, even if it broke Carrie’s heart just a bit.

Out of flight school, they had a brief station at Pensacola, and it was there that Pete met Tom Kazansky. He’d mostly kept his sexuality to himself as a teenager, but his older sister knew he tended to favor males. He had a suspicion that Mike and Carrie knew as well, but they’d never said anything, so he didn’t either. While it could get him a dishonorable discharge if anyone in the Navy found out, Pete made sure to always be discrete. Hence why Nick didn’t even know. But one look at Tom Kazansky, and Pete knew he had to have him. It took a couple of weeks and several, several, nights at a bar and nightclub, but Pete finally succeeded and got his man. It was one of the hottest and greatest nights of his life if he’s being honest, but the next day, he and Nick were restationed, leaving Tom behind. 

In between deployments, he would sometimes sneak home for a short visit; Carrie insisting on seeing him alive with her own eyes. It always felt great coming home, but he was always worried his connection to them would be discovered and he’d ruin Mike’s career. It was the last thing he wanted, knowing how hard his dad had worked for that top position at Top Gun, so he spent a lot of his leaves on his own or with Nick and Carole. They’d done three years of random length deployments, Mav making a name for himself in the Navy and trying to out fly Duke’s ghost, before they were sent to Top Gun. It felt odd knowing he’d actually been the second choice, and if it hadn’t been for Cougar turning in his wings, he’d still be waiting for his chance. But Mav was beyond ecstatic to be going home, and to finally be able to fly with his dad.

#my writing #Maverick Chronicles #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #mike viper metcalf #carrie metcalf #icemav #icemav fic #top gun #tg #top gun fic #tg fic

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Compromise

** Part Two of “Where I’m From” **

Top Gun: Maverick - Hangman x f!reader [no use of y/n]

2k || Jake never thought he would fall in love with the woman who cried on the first date he ever took her on, but here he was months later standing in her kitchen even more in love than ever.

===

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

CW: swearing, kissing, relationship insecurity, mentions of past relationships (neglect)

Author’s Note: I just love this version of soft jake so much. And yes, this completely self-indulgent I am not sorry || cross-posted on ao3

Part One

===

===

“I hate Valentine’s Day.”

Jake’s posture didn’t change as his statement filled your kitchen alongside the sizzle of uncooked batter hitting the pan. You wished you could say the same for yours. Smile slipping and shoulders slumping as you realized you had been getting your hopes up for someone like Jake, as chivalrous and kind as he had been these few months, to be as much of a hopeless romantic as you were. As if to accent your thoughts he added a damning, “It’s a consumer holiday.”

You swallowed a disappointed ‘oh.’ Then stepped around the breakfast counter into the kitchen to start setting the table. Jake gave the barest of a glance over his shoulder, but you made sure to turn your face away from him. Ever since the mess of a first date - or, rather, second date - where you broke down in tears at dinner, Jake had been the model of a perfect boyfriend. Sure he had an ego and would flirt with you at inappropriate times, but there was no denying that Jake was a gentleman at heart. He would bring flowers home just because. Every time the two of you went out he paid. Unless you put your foot down, then he would let you take the check. It opened the door to make that same joke about confidence being a good look on you.

A point you had begun to agree with. Having Jake Seresin in your life helped you grasp at the most basic staples in the concept of self-worth, particularly when it came down to relationships. Compromise did not mean turning a blind eye to your own wishes. Honest and open conversations were possible. Even more so, they were expected with Jake.

“I find it hard to believe,” Jake had said to you one night after a long day at work where the only time the two of you really had to talk was his impromptu sleepover. “That a woman like you spent so much time in a relationship and didn’t once stand her ground.” It wasn’t supposed to come off as rude as it had. That was just Jake. Blunt, coarse, and completely well-intentioned. That latter point was what you’d chosen to focus on.

“I don’t know what it is,” you had responded, tucking yourself in between his arms as far as you possibly could. “When I get into a relationship, I forget that I can be my own person. I try too hard to be the perfect partner. Like I’m only allowed to be an extension of whoever I’m dating.”

Jake had merely brought a hand up to trace your face with his fingertips and said, “I love you, but I would rather break up with you than ever let you feel as though you were nothing more than an extension of me.”

And that’s how Jake Seresin first told you that he loved you. In the late hours of a night where, just a few hours before he’d shown up, you had been crying over not knowing why someone would date you in the first place. Feelings of doubt and inferiority clawing at your skin, desperately trying to find a way to burrow in deep. How could someone who had been proven to be unloveable time and time again suddenly get so lucky? Of course, you didn’t miss the way Jake had used the words ‘break up,’ but the fact was that you hadn’t gone into a spiraling mess of negative thoughts. Instead, you let yourself cling to the knowledge that you were loved by someone you felt truly inclined to believe for the first time in your life.

A love that could last you through a lifetime of pancake breakfasts, you thought as you reached up in the cabinets to start pulling down plates, but your mind still lingered in the after hours of that first ‘I love you.’ The only thing that brought you back to reality was Jake sliding up behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other reaching out to grab the plates you were fumbling with.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” He asked.

A dismissive hum escaped you. Force of habit. Hey, do you mind if I skip this intensive dinner you made to hang out with the guys? Hum. We can’t go out because work is so weird about us dating and without that paperwork from HR it’ll be hell to deal with. Hum. Thanks for giving me head, but I’m actually pretty tired now. I think I’ll just go to bed. Hum. Easier to avoid the conversation to confrontation pipeline. You had never been on the winning end of one in a relationship anyway. Jake had attempted to convince you otherwise but biting loneliness in comparison to a tenuous companionship felt like too much of a step in the wrong direction.

Jake said your name softly. Your eyes fluttered closed at the gentleness in his voice. “Hey,” he said, and you heard the clinking of plates being set on the counter next to you. “Talk to me.”

Arms opened; Jake used that to his advantage to swing you around to face him. You cracked an eye open. The hardest part about dating Jake was the talking. “Doll, if I did something, I want to know.”

Maybe because he always said shit like that. You felt the pressure of his thumb draw circles on your hip. This man had seen you naked. He had sat on the toilet while you took a bath just to talk. He’d mopped sweat from your brow and cleaned up puke when you had a stomach bug a few weeks ago. Yet nothing ever prepared you for the nervousness that kept creeping up during domestic moments like this where you were in his arms, and he stared down at you with the look of a lovesick puppy.

No one had ever looked at you like you were their entire world. You could feel the entire weight of it on your shoulders.

“Valentine’s Day.”

He quirked his head. “What about it?”

“I’ve never celebrated it before.”

Before you could turn your face away, Jake repositioned so that his forehead was pressed against yours and his fingers were massaging the skin on your waist. “Doll, look at me.” He waited for you to meet his eye then prompted, “And?”

“It’s stupid, never mind.”

“It’s never stupid if it means something to you, darlin’,” he said with that accent that made you weak in your knees. It was a good thing Jake was holding you up or you’d be nothing more than a puddle on the floor.

You bit down on your bottom lip. Embarrassment creeped up the back of your neck. “No one has ever done anything for me for Valentine’s Day.” You let out a sigh, but winced because it made you sound like more of a whiny high school girl. “I don’t know. I just thought - I’ve always wanted a cliche Valentine’s Day… gifts, chocolate, going out for dinner that’s way too expensive. With my other relationships there wasn’t much to celebrate… but with you, Jake, I want to.”

Jake smiled at you. That dazzling smile that made you nervous when you went out in public because it made you want to say something stupid.

“Okay,” he said then, at the confusion on your face, added, “We’ll go all out for Valentine’s Day this year.”

Guilt gnawed at your gut. He had sounded so adamant earlier in his dislike for the holiday. “But you said-”

He cut you off. “I say lots of stupid shit, doll. You really should know better than to listen to me by now.”

“I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to though, Jake.”

“I want to make you happy.” Jake leaned in to press a kiss to your lips. When he pulled away you asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Of course, I am. Where I’m from we go all out. Bigger the better in Texas.” You rolled your eyes at the cocky grin that settled onto his face. “It’s a compromise, darlin’. This year we go out and do every cliche imaginable. If it’s too much for me, I’ll say something. If it’s not what you imagined, you’ll say something. Then, next year, we can pick and choose whichever parts we liked and change what we don’t like. We’ll start a tradition that’s perfect for us. Sound good?”

You nod, matching his wide smile. “I would really appreciate that, Jake.”

“Plus, when would I pass up the opportunity to celebrate my girl?” He took a step back so your back pushed against the counter and he laid flush against you. “I like taking you. It gives me a chance to show everyone how much better I have it.”

You let out a laugh. “Jake!”

“I’m serious,” he said, kissing your cheek. Then trailed them across your jaw and down your neck. You weren’t paying attention too closely, too distracted by his tongue on your skin, but you could have sworn he ground gently into you. “I’ll celebrate you every day if you let, doll.”

You tilted your head to the side. Jake jumped at the chance to press more kisses to the exposed skin on your neck. “I love you,” you told him, your voice between a breathy mound and a dreamy sigh.

In shock Jake jerked away from you.

And that’s how you first told Jake Seresin you loved him. And the moment you realized the pancakes on the stove had burned to a crisp. Jake had too many stars in his eyes to pull the pan from the stove. Not that you minded. Cleaning up the mess was the least you could do after he went through all the trouble - no, not trouble. He cooked, you cleaned.

A compromise. The hallmark of a healthy relationship. Something you did for someone you loved, and you really loved Jake Seresin.

Bonus:

“What the hell are you doing?” You glanced over to the other end of the counter at Jake. It was taking longer than expected to scrape the burnt bits of batter from the pan, which should have given him plenty of time to make a new breakfast plan. Except for the fact that he looked elbow deep in a crime scene. “I’m making pancakes.” The batter in the glass bowl was a bright red. Alarmingly red, but Jake spoke as though you were supposed to know exactly what he was doing. “They’re going to be shaped like hearts.”

You shook your head at him, going back to scrubbing. “Try not to burn these ones then. That would be a bad omen.”

“Try not to distract me by being so damn beautiful.”

“Can’t promise anything.” You could feel his eyes on you.

“God,” he said, “You’re so fucking hot when you’re confident.”

You turned to look at him, catching his eye, and let a mimic of his smug smirk settle on your lips. “Focus on not burning my breakfast this time flyboy.”

He scoffed at the nickname but set his focus back on intensely stirring out the streaks of red dye in the batter. You didn’t even realize that you had food dye in your kitchen.

“Jake? You do realize Valentine’s Day is next week, right?”

“It’s not every day the love of your life tells you that they love you too. And if Valentine’s Day is celebrating your relationship, then every day is Valentine’s Day for me.”

“God, you’re so fucking hot when you use those cheesy lines like that on me.”

His eyes were on you again. Hotter this time. “Should we forget breakfast,” he asked. You slid your gaze back over to him. The pan splashed into the sink, splashing water up onto your his shirt.

“I have to go change this shirt,” you said in response.

Jake dropped the spoon. Globs of red batter splattered in all directions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were too busy racing him to the bedroom laughing in pure joy the entire way there.

===

taglist: @potato-girl99981 @milani-marie @gizmodear​ 

#Jake 'Hangman" Seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #Jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #hangman top gun #top gun x reader #top gun hangman #top gun imagine #jake seresin fluff #fluff #soft!jake seresin #top gun maverick fic #tgm fic #tg fic #domestic fluff #where i'm from

[poetryinsilence]

Noughts and Crosses - Jake "Hangman" Seresin x childhood friend!reader (part I)

A/n: THIS SERIES CONTAINS SMUT AND PTSD/TRAUMA STUFF! No bullshit reader, like literally does not take Jake’s bullshit. Frenemies to lovers cuz why not🤷 So, so much cheese that’s pretty much a fondue. I've written this with the perspective of Jake rather than Hangman so expect a lot of raw emotion. Uh, strong language, character trauma/hurt but mostly, mostly fluff. No beta-read, I’m going in raw.

Synopsis: 4:45 pm. You saw him lay there, half alive and looking like a cartoon character that’s been rolling down a rugged slope and crashed at the bottom with a loud cymbal sound. With deep crimson cuts on his shabby face but still good-looking as a Greek god's statue. He was supported with a neck brace attached to his neck, arm plastered for his own stability and matching with a leg cast extended up his right limb. Chest heaves with each breath he takes from his life support and exhales with shivers of pain. Jake's eyelids strain open to peek at you hovering 3 feet away from him with a deep crease on your forehead. You grumble.

"What in the ever-loving fuck happened to you?"

Wc: 2,630

Part II part III part IV

Approximately an hour and a half ago, the rush of foot tapping was part of your daily segments at the animal shelter you ceaselessly worked for the past 4 years. Tending animals was your dream job. At least that's what you wanted to do from a very young age; running around with furry animals to your heart’s desire. And working at an animal shelter happens to be the closest thing to what you had in your mind, but with a greater purpose of finding them a forever home. It's much better than dealing with sporadic humans who barely understand English and the universal language of 'no'.

No, animals are much better than that. They're easy to teach and have mannerisms, and they will always be your friend. So, in what scenario could you be in to get yourself stuck in this sticky situation?

Several phone calls from an unknown number.

Though you should’ve known better not to answer phone numbers you are unfamiliar with. But no, you had to poke holes at your curiosity and answer some strange number displayed on the screen of your phone.

"Hello, is this y/n?"

"Yes, this is y/n speaking...who's this?"

"Hello ma'am, we're calling from the Naval Medical Centre about Jake Seresin. You were listed as his medical emergency contact. Unfortunately, ma'am, he's been—"

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you say Jake Seresin? And, emergency contact?!"

"Yes, ma'am. He got into an accident today in regards to his ejection from his aircraft. It is a protocol for us to contact his next of kin in case of emergencies."

"I'm sorry, did I catch that right? His next of kin? I'm sorry, but you must have got that wrong, I'm not related to him—"

"Ma'am I'm just following protocols, it states clearly here that you're the one to contact in case of emergencies. Could you please come down to the Naval Medical Centre—"

"No, I think you must have gotten something wrong. We haven't kept in contact for over 20 years. You should contact his family in Texas—"

"We'll see you soon ma'am" the line clicks.

"Wait!" you yell before retreating to a defeated sigh.

Out of the blue, a name you haven't heard of in years decided to pop back out from the depths of the Earth's crust, and one you are well familiar with. Jake Seresin. Your childhood 'friend'. More like terror. You were not given the option to become friends with him. It just so happens your mothers were lifelong friends long before you were born, yet somehow they thought 'wouldn't it be great to give birth at the same time and let our kids be friends like we were?' Sad to say, it was not great.

From the early stages of your life, you knew Jake was a prankster. The one that makes your life and the kids at school miserable. The things he does that made you wonder if he really was just Satan’s spawn reincarnated to Earth just to spite you.

So, why then, would you be getting into your shoddy, on the edge of breaking down Yugo 65 and ramming down traffic because of one shitty phone call?

The answer is: you don't know.

You got to the medical centre in just a little under 30 minutes, probably your personal best record in the first wave of the San Diego rush hour traffic and patted yourself on the back for that. Truth to be told, you were never really keen on hospitals; the antiseptic scent that stings your nose, the endless void of white glossed walls, and doctors rushing here and there with stoic faces. You could never decipher what is going on inside their mind.

The lady at the reception was nice to greet you with a sunny smile for your quickly-overturned shitty day. She had on her face one of those thick-rimmed glasses that pointed out into a cat-eye shape and paired with a brick red lipstick that complimented her sharp blue eyes. You quickly discern that she was not the same person that called you earlier, but still was well informed of your situation and directed you to your destined floor and room number.

Another reason why you did not like the hospital was that everything is treated like a maze, as though you were a hamster in one of those escape rooms, but they had a treat waiting for them at the end and yours…not so much. You ponder at the front door to the private room where your childhood friend may or may not lay in a squashed-up mush from his newly informed accident. The place card slot to the side of the frosted window had clean calligraphy written 'J. Seresin' in blue ink. You took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The machinery beeped to greet your entrance as you see Jake, resting in a half-induced dream state, probably from the side effects of the morphine. He looks peaceful; older but briefly the same as you remember and much more muscular from all those navy trainings. It's hard to imagine he was once a scrawny kid with a missing tooth, running around your backyard with his bare feet.

The door opening must have woke Jake up as his hooded lids lifted with a heavy weight and peered at you, just hovering three feet away from his bed. He gave you his best but could only produce a weak smile. However, you frown in return, with heat burning from your stomach and billions of questions flying through your mind that condensed into one:

"What in the ever-loving fuck happened to you?"

That earned a croaky chuckle from him but swatted into a coughing fit. You glance to the side where a wash basin and empty glasses are placed, turning the tap on to watch it shoot out chilled water and bubbles as it fills the cup. Hand extended to offer the glass to Jake, his flimsy hand attempted to reach but the drug must’ve suppressed the ability of his movement. You sigh and gently press the glass to the cut-open lip. The water slowly trickles down his throat, gulp after gulp until it reaches the bottom. 

He weakly flashes a toothy grin at you. “Well, it’s good to see you too.” He said, in a raspy voice.

You never imagined this is how you would meet again after decades, him in a hospital bed, picking up pieces of himself to put it back together. You shook your head in dismay.

“No, it’s not good. This is how I see you again after all these years? Broken and frail?”

“Shit happens. It’s also part of the job.” He responded calmly.

“Then tell me, why the hell am I your emergency contact? Where is your family? You need to tell them. Not me.”

His breath quivers to suppress the pain before opening his mouth again, “You are the only one I know that lives nearby, plus, there is no point for them to fly all the way from Texas. It’s just a waste of time—“

“I don’t think it’s a waste of time if it’s a life or death situation. I’ll call your mother and inform her—“

“Don’t." he contended. "I don’t wanna make this a bigger deal than it already is. They don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself.”

You opened your mouth to counter his response but held your tongue and swallow your words. The image of him in your mind was always etched as a tough kid who could handle anything on his own, and if he can’t, he’ll find a way. You grimaced and flopped into the chair next to him, his face is haggard with his dishevelled locks, the bags under his eyes drooping down towards the floor and blood drained from his pale face.

“So, what happened to you? The last I’ve heard, you were one of the best in your class since your mom won’t stop boasting about it. Tell me then, how did you end up like this?” Your brows raised unenthusiastically as you tried to minimise the sarcastic tone.

Jake’s face falters and recollects the moments that happened just mere hours ago. “Sometimes, even if you’re the best, you still can’t avoid accidents that are gonna happen.” He inhales, “bird strikes, those things are mostly unavoidable. But if you’re lucky, you could land the aircraft safely with one engine, and a couple of bruises but mostly unscathed,”

He blinks, “and in the off chance that your aircraft fails…you have to find the means to survive out of pure instinct." Something flashes in his eyes but you can't quite place what it was and before you know it, it’s gone.

Jake continues, "I blacked out mostly, only fragments of what happened. And to be honest, I still don't know what to feel. I remember...clutching myself as tightly as I could and pinching my nose before I hit the water. Then... everything went dark. Never thought the ocean could be so dark."

He shifted a little bit, groaning underneath the pain and squeezing his eyes shut to endure it. "You know, the only good thing that came out of that was the freezing cold numbing everything. I don't remember how I got to the surface, I don't remember being rescued, I just...have no recollection at all. The next time I woke up was here, surrounded by four white walls and listening to the doctor's run-down of my missing pieces."

"Then you showed up."

The corner of your lip faintly tugs, reassuring him of your presence in comfortable silence, the years of disconnection from him dissolved the indifferences between you both and gained a new sense of admiration. For a moment, you did not recognise him. His vastly changed difference is no longer the same imprinted in your memories. He grew up in a blink of an eye and lived up to his beliefs.

"Alright, is there anything I could do for you? I know you did not put me as your emergency contact just for a simple catch-up. And, how the fuck did you even get my number?" the slight crease to your brows painted on your puzzled features as you interrogated Jake for a solid answer. The last time you've ever spoken to his mother was before you moved to San Diego, from then on your only real connection to her was through your own mother.

Jake's smirk brings you slight displeasure about what you're about to discover. "Perks of being in the navy," you shudder, "and also a bit of bribery." There it is. "And, yeah you're right. You're my emergency go-to because you're the only person I know outside of base. And also I need you to get me some toiletries. And possibly some clothes too cuz I am not going to wear my aviation suit leaving this building." He drafted up a fake smile that made you roll your eyes.

You retracted any comments about him being admirable. Every single cell in your body at this moment is having a hard time suppressing the thought of you wrapping your hands around that sprained neck of his and choking him out of his misery as you listen to the sound of his heart flatline through the machine. Oh, how melodic that would be.

"You, Seresin, are an asshole."

"Aw, I've missed you too." He beams, this time with a little bit more honesty, "But for now, stay. We've got a lot of catching up to do."

*

Week by week, you grew accustomed to the newly fixated schedule that you reluctantly signed up for; waking up at 8 am, commuting the highway in your matchbox car, taking care of your loving companions that you often wish would rule over the world someday; your colleagues' sympathy and understanding shed some weight off your skin as they let you off work early. Another set of traffic that made you wanna blow your brains out, browsing the men's section at the thrift store since you're not going to spend $50+ on Jake just because he's injured (hold for sympathetic aw's), and then visiting said injured pet that doesn't need your help as he's surrounded by medical professions.

You arrived at the hospital today at 4:30 pm, right on the dot, pushing open the door in hopes to find Jake lying lazily on the bed, with a men's health magazine in one hand and trying to scratch his nose with his broken one.

Instead, you find him at the foot of the bed dressed in an oversized grey hoodie and navy blue sweatpants you picked out for him, upright and packing his things in your duffle bag that was long forgotten at the far back of your closet, collecting dust.

"Hey, buddy! Great news! They told me I'm free to go home, but I still need to come back for physiotherapy and check-ups in the upcoming weeks." Jake rejoices, upholding himself underneath the weight of his crutches.

"That's...great!" you smiled, but feeling perplexed by the sudden info dropped at your doorstep, "So, that means you can go back to base now, right? Great, I'll drop you off." As you're about to turn and exit, Jake stops you with an undistinguishable noise.

"Yeeeeah, about that. Um," he rubs the back of his neck nervously and sucks in a breath of air. "I don't have a clear permission to station at the base yet. What they essentially said was for me to get better first before coming back. And even if I did have permission, I would get bored very fast since," He gestured to his casts. "But the funny thing is, I don't have a place to stay outside of the base, so I guess we're going to have to be roommates for a while."

The white noise grew hot in your surroundings. The statics pinched and sizzled your brain into a sheet of white paper as you could only stare into his fiendish grin. What did he just say? Roommates, wait no. No place to stay? Jake blinks, maintaining eye contact with your blank stares. "Yeah, I'm going to need you to ans—"

"No."

"Yes."

"No!" the anger burst from its volcanic rupture, bubbling at the pit of your stomach for the passing weeks, now all released at the face of this moment.

Jake stood idly, taken aback by your explosive reaction and your unbreakable glare that's keeping him on the spot. He huffs and shakes his head. "Why not?"

"Why not?" You scoffed, "Because, Seresin...You are forcing your way, without a plan, into every bit of my life like you used to and thinking that I would accept you with open arms. But, in reality, I don't know you. Not anymore."

"Then isn't this the perfect timing," Jake threw his hands up and motioned his finger between you and him. "We will have plenty of time to get acquainted again."

"Have you been listening to what I've just said?"

"Oh, what? You want me to be stranded on the streets like a lost dog?"

"That sounds like a good idea, maybe we should try that!"

The door abruptly busts open with a loud slam that caught you both off guard. You jumped, with your beating heart in your mouth. A woman dressed in blue scrubs, hands glued to her hips with eyes seeing red as she glowers at the both of you.

"Lieutenant, if you’re finished with packing. I'd suggest you leave accordingly before I call security."

You both awkwardly shuffle, picking up the duffle bag and usher yourselves out of the room with your head down as you mouth 'sorry' on your way out.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #tg fic #tgm fic #⭐️.doc

[duchesschameleon]

day one (a kazansky for america fic)

summary: day one in the oval office for the Kazansky Administration rating: G for everyone warnings: none read this fic on ao3

a long awaited third installment in the kazansky for america series, my top gun west wing au. thank you as always to @qvid-pro-qvo for the beta. enjoy!

“Well, this is certainly the grandest office we’ve moved into,” Carole says, head on a swivel as she looks around the west wing.

“Probably going to be the last one we move into,” Ice adds on, leading the way through the hallways and towards the Oval Office. He tries to ignore the historical significance of this office, of this position, and treat it like any other move-in day, but it’s difficult. Everywhere he looks, there’s a piece of history staring back at him.

“Oh, Mr. President, I’d like to see the day you actually retire from work. You’ll keep doing something and needing an office, even after this,” Carole retorts as they wind through to the outer Oval. “You’ll be doing something and Maverick and I will be right by your side, helping out however we can.”

Ice rolls his eyes but stays quiet. He knows Carole is right. “You know it’ll be Mav’s idea, whatever comes next.” Carole nods her head, conceding the point.

“Hey, how about we focus on getting in here and doing at least four years of work before we plan on what’s next?” a voice says, right behind him. Ice stiffens at the sudden closeness of another body, only relaxing when he recognizes his partner.  

“Hmm, but before we can do any work here, I believe we have some balls to attend,” Ice says, leaning back slightly into Mav, wanting to be close to him. He spares a moment of relief and wonder that this is his life. He still can’t believe he gets this, gets to have this incredible man by his side, and in this office with him.

Mav makes a face, looks at Ice apologetically. “Yeah, there’s actually a little work to be done before we party, Mr. President.”

Ice’s spine straightens instinctually at that, something about Mav saying it that triggers the reaction. It’s his title now, officially. Forever. A title that now refers to him, not a warning that someone’s coming he needs to impress and be on his best behavior for.

No, now he has to be on his best behavior and do the best job of his life. All eyes are on him.

“That’s gonna take some getting used to,” he mutters before shaking his head and meeting his partner’s gaze. His partner’s, his chief of staff’s, proud gaze. “Alright, then let’s get to work.”

The afternoon becomes a blur, senior staff coming in and out of the Oval, each of them pausing for a moment to look around and be a little awed by the room. If he wasn’t still adjusting to this being his office now, he would have laughed at them. Especially Bradley.

“Kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he says to his pseudo-nephew and deputy chief of staff once they’ve wrapped up their conversation.

“Kinda?” Bradley snorts. “It’s completely crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally here.” He pauses and looks around before meeting Ice’s gaze again. “Dad would have loved to see this. Woulda been telling us he told us so, that you would be here, and then have some ideas about decorating the place.”

Ice laughs, picturing Goose circling the room completely at ease. He could just imagine the suggestions he’d have to bring some relaxed, California flair to the Oval Office.

“We’d have palm fronds in here within a week, probably less if he got your mom in on it.”

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “Within a day. She’d never be able to say no to him.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” 

They stand there, soaking in the room and thinking about the family who isn’t with them today.

“Mr. President, you’ve got -“ Mav pauses, seeing Bradley. “Hey, kiddo. Everything good?”

Bradley nods. “We’re good, I just had to see the Oval and go over something. I’m leaving now though.” He turns back to Ice, “Thank you, Mr. President.”

Ice just nods, a little overwhelmed hearing Bradley address him so formally. They’d tried to be as professional as possible throughout the campaign, but late nights and exhaustion from being on the road would creep in and no one stopped them from being more familiar with each other. Now, there was a constant reminder of his title all around them, a stark reminder of the position he now held.

It’ll take some getting used to the formality of the office, he thought again.

“Mr. President, you good?” Mav asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“I’m good, Pete,” he says, turning and smiling at his husband. “Just adjusting to the office. The title.”

Pete huffs out a laugh. “That’s what the transition period was for, ease you into the title and the office. Make sure we’re all prepared.”

“Yeah, well, talking about it and actually being here in the Oval and having everyone - including you and Bradley - addressing me so formally, it’s different.”

“This whole thing is different, Tom,” Pete says, dropping the title to make Tom really look at him and pay attention to his words. “This is the first day of the last job you are ever going to have. You’re the President of the United States, the biggest job you could have. You’re the first gay man in the Oval Office, that adds pressure and importance.”

Tom knows it’s true, had remarked on it himself when he stepped through the door earlier that day. But to hear Pete say it, to put it so plainly and point out just how important this job and his win back in November is, and that they somehow made it to today, to inauguration day, makes him pause.

He’s the President of the United States of America. The first gay president, and he’s married by common law to his Chief of Staff.

“Holy shit, I’m the president,” he whispers. “Pete, I’m the president. I got sworn in today. We’re here. We’re really here.”

Pete smirks and moves next to Tom, wraps an arm around him. “We’re really here, babe.”

They stand together like that for a moment, taking it all in. Pete rests his head on Tom’s shoulder, shifts his eyes to check his watch and notes the time. They can take this moment, this minute to revel in what they’ve accomplished.

“Okay, we gotta get back to it, Mr. President,” Pete says quietly, presses a kiss to Tom’s shoulder. “There’s a few more reports and memos to go through before we can call it a night and head back to the residence and change for the ball.”

Tom let out a sigh and nodded. “Before we get back to work, just give me one kiss?”

Pete smiles and obliges him, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his husband’s lips. “C’mon, back to work. It’s day one,” Pete says again, “there’ll be time for that over the next four years.”

“Okay, then. What’s next?”

#charlie rambles #my writing #fic stuff #tg fic #tom iceman kazansky x pete maverick mitchell #iceman/maverick #icemav #icemav fic #writing

[elmaxlys]

L, N, and P for the ask please? 💙

Oooh, interesting ones :3 thanks! :D

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves.

Akira is really cool and her character evolution feels quite fitting as the daughter of Kureo. I like the way she fights and the way she has such a strong grip on her feelings and how she learns to show these more a little at a time but still staying quite reserved.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

1- [Tenkuu Shinpan] I'd love to see more of literally anything that isn't Sniper. Yuri independantly of Nise, Nise independantly of Yuri, Kuon as a destructive force, RIKA AS A WHOLE, literally anyone else. It's not fair how everyone just looks at Sniper and ignores absolutely everything else about this series.

2- [Tokyo Ghoul] CLOWNS POSITIVITY. i'm including kanou in this. Still bitter they got excluded from the tgzine (if there are tg zines going on at twitter or whatever feel free to inform me any time btw)

3- arranged weddings and body swaps, not necessarily at once but they are things i love to see dealt with :3

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

Mmmm... Shirazu lives and gets more dads AU.. This got out of hands. Warning for long post bc I don't want to put it under a readmore

After Nutcracker and Hayashimura left all the rights to the quinque to him + after the haircut, Shirazu and Hayashimura become a bit closer, and like Mucchan training with Suzuya, Shiragin sometimes trains with Hayashimura. Hayashimura and Fura help him get over his thing with Nutcracker and so he trains better with the quinque and thanks to that (partially), he survives Noro (also like. Urie thinks to fucking feed him after he's injured. he thought to do that in literally the first arc. come on.).

And so after Rose, he ends up with the Noro quinque and he doesn't give Nut to Hayashimura but like. he lends it to him and stuff and idk he takes smoke breaks with Fura and Fura invite him to dinner with his family sometimes and Hayashimua also adopts him and Shirazu improves rapidly and becomes a great leader for the Quinx, even after Haise distances himself from them.

And Urie isn't, like, happy about all that but he accepts it somewhat because of how scared he got to lose Shirazu in the end. And Saiko begins to take things seriously. And Shirazu is the one to visit Hinami in prison and he starts advocating not to kill her because she's Sassan's little sister and he gets it, you know?

And Urie still got closer to Matsuri but in a, like, diminished measure since he isn't squad leader. Matsuri's still crushing on him and inviting him to dinner but he has to invite the rest of the Quinx with him because otherwise it's weird. And therefore the Quinx get closer to the Washuu Clan and Yoshitoki just loves Shiragin and he's glad his son's making some friends. Iyo and Saiko become friends too, Saiko teaches her to play Mario Kart or something.

And the Quinx begin to smell something weird about the Washuu thanks to their super senses, even if they're not really sure to identify it (think the way Hide hid from ghouls but the other way around?)

And Shirazu takes the Robed Giant case seriously and so they meet on Rushima after finding Mutsuki all messed up, and Saiko manages to get the rights to him because Shirazu's the leader and not traumatized Urie. And I guess Yoshitoki either dies (i don't want him to but. for plot) or manages to fake his death and flees with Marude.

Cue Koutarou in Cochlea when his dad finally got out :) Cue Saiko visiting Koutarou all the time, sometimes accompanied by Shirazu. And Shirazu just doesn't believe what he's told about Sasaki, and when Koutarou gets closer to Saiko (they were made to be besties fight me), he starts telling her stuff off the record and so she asks Hsiao, which never confirms or denies anything. So Saiko takes Shiragin and has Koutarou tell him all he told her.

And Shirazu who has felt icky about his job since Nutcracker becomes extremely wary of the CCG politics. But Matsuri, who was their sorta friend clearly needs support so they stay close to him and therefore he gets a bit better and poses a real problem in terms of succession. Iyo takes the destroying of the Washuu clan as an opportunity to ask for divorce. Matsuri takes the divorce as an opportunity to be a little honest with Urie (not about his crush but about him being gay and Urie's like #same.) and they get closer bc they both have unrequited feelings for some guy and dead daddy issues.

And then the Clowns Raid happens. And it's Shirazu with Urie when they get to Donato. And while Urie is crucified on the ceiling Shirazu manages to talk to him like wait aren't you Amon Koutarou's dad? A-Owl? Floppy? And idk how it leads to that but after a bit, the Quinx, like, desert the CCG and help Koutarou get out of Cochlea with Donato (shhhh this is pure self indulgence), and it doesn't go exactly well because the Clowns are awful and welp they can't really go with them, but Amon stays with the Quinx that he decided to adopt while Donato goes back to the background where people forget about him until the next strike like he does so well

AND Amon has connection to Hide so they go find him which means they also find Matsuri, who they thought died in the raid, and there they learn everything about the CCG and the Washuu and they get Haru treated after getting her out of the CCG hospitals bc they feared they'd let her die after the Quinx' defection.

This and that happen but in the end the Quinx end up becoming the bridge between ghouls and humans they were meant to be and therefore Souta's plan doesn't need to be implemented anymore and Shirazu goes to talk to Goat and stuff and Kaneki's being a bitch but Haise in his brain beats him up and ta-dah Goat returns to society and slowly ghouls become actually accepted and are furnished human flesh instead of disgusting fake meat and humans don't turn to ghouls out of nowhere and Tokyo isn't destroyed and Kaneki gets therapy and when he's all better and Touka got some classes on domestic violence, then and only then does she ask him to date her. And it doesn't work out anyway but they tried.

Kaneki and Hide talk a lot and start a friendship again. Kaneki apologizes to Shuu properly. And now that the death threats have subsided, Shuu realizes he can't forgive him after all, going back to his Rose arc mentality. Kaneki tries to make amends. Suzuya suggests that he stays with him with his squad or something and at first it doesn't work well but it ends up becoming a safe place where Kaneki can heal. Touka gets together with Nishikimi and it works out a lot better than it ever would have with Kaneki.

Eto is dead dead after Cochlea btw but all the remaining half-ghouls and quinx and half-humans stick together and become one big family and Amon's their dad and Takizawa is the weird uncle. And Kurona becomes besties with Urie because I said so. Mutsuki takes a while to heal. He has sparring matches with Takizawa and Suzuya and none of them feels pain so it gets very horrible very quickly but it works out for them. Urie gets over his crush on Mutsuki as he finds more and more people to care about and rely on. Mutsuki still obsess over Haise but in a more healthy way.

And Roma didn't die since Souta's plan didn't go through. She flees to find somewhere more fun. Shiko alternates with staying with Takizawa and staying with her. No one manages to follow him to find her. No one has heard about Souta or Donato but they're actually sticking pretty close to keep an eye on things (Souta on Rize, Donato on his son). They're good at staying stealthy and somehow never get found out even when they're not even really trying anymore. Souta dies at 30 of old age and only Donato, Roma and Nico are there for him in his last moments.

Yomo's taking care of Rize but after her last trip to V's labs she never quite heals. I want to talk about other characters but my head is drawing a blank so idk I think Tomoe would do something similar as what she does in 179, but through Takizawa she meets the Quinx and doesn't exactly forgive Amon but tolerates him. Saiko loves her to bits. Talking about Saiko, her brother left their mom too and lives with the Quinx as well. Yeah it's giving 2012 Avengers Tower vibes shush

And to end this, Matsuri and Urie get married and Shirazu gets also adopted by Marude and Iwaccho and now has *counting* well. a lot of dads.

I haven't reread this and made it up as i went so i hope it's at least slightly coherent.

------

Send me a letter

#thank you <3 #long post #tokyo ghoul #alternate universe #tg fic #sort of but so i can find it again

[asimmutableasgravity]

songbird snippet. hopefully u guys get it on tgms 1st anniv <3

#ao3 updates #sereshaw #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #hangster #tgm #top gun maverick #tg fic #tgm fic #hangster fic

[sonatine]

Rating: Explicit Fandoms: The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt Relationship: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky

It is an advantageous match. Theo and Kitsey marry to the delight and wonderment of the society papers (“An orphan and his childhood companion! A match arranged in heaven!”) and then return to their newly purchased apartment, a respectable walk-up in Kip’s Bay, before shedding wedding attire onto the bed and kissing goodbye. Kitsey hails a cab over to Tom Cable’s apartment on the west side; Theo walks three neighborhoods down to where Boris is staying in Alphabet City. Theo thinks briefly, as he fucks Boris into the mattress, that as wedding nights go, it’s not a bad one. 

#the goldfinch #boreo #theo decker/boris pavlikovsky #myfic #tg fic

[charterandbarter]

it's not done but hhhhhhhhhrgh. sometimes. you revisit your roots.

#tokyo ghoul #premed!kaneki au #in my defense i havent read tg in 5 years and i know too much about anatomy + genetics to let shit go #also in my defense ishida art SLAPS #sometimes you're a college student who snaps so hard he becomes a homosexual #and by homosexual i mean ace with a dash of academic burnout #tg fanfic #tg fic #ILL FINISH THIS I JUST NEED MOTIVATION IT'S BEEN A DAY

[polar-equinoxx]

be still my beating heart.

ao3 link

#MYAHAHHAAH #helloo a fic #feast on this icemav stans #ms tg #ms art #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #pete maverick mitchell #top gun #top gun 1986 #top gun fanart #top gun fanfic

[iceman-kazansky]

Did You Even Care?

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: none

Pairings: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x f!Reader

Warnings: Angst to fluff, explicit language (swearing), arguing, graphic kissing, reader is a naval aviator, my writing lmao

A/n: Wrote this on a kinda-whim. Also, first publicly published Rooster fic on Tumblr? what? No wayyyy. This is a product of my recent Rooster/Top Gun obsession as of late btw.

Taglist: @footprintsinthesxnd @inglourious-imagines

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

Your footsteps echoed down the hall as you walked alone, lost in your own thoughts. Further down the hallway, behind an almost closed door, you could hear muffled voices as you passed. Voices that raised into yelling. Unable to resume your own thinking, consumed by the argument that is rapidly escalating, you stop.

Truthfully, you hadn't planned on eavesdropping– but it just kind of happened.

Standing just out of sight, hidden behind the door frame, you listened to the two men arguing.

“Why did you stand in my way?” The one yells, and instantly you recognize the voice to be Bradley Bradshaw’s.

You listen intently as Bradley throws countless insults at the other person you've identified as Maverick, and with each one you think of how cruel and unfair Bradley is being.

The argument seems to be ending, but Bradleys quiet voice reminds you it's not yet over, “If you care about me then make it up to me by not choosing y/n for the mission. Choose me instead.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in anger and hurt at his sudden words. Confusion rapidly overwhelms you. What did you have to do with this? And what business did Bradley have removing you from the chance of being picked as a possible pilot?

The small thought occurred to you that maybe he'd wanted the position himself. And you threatened that. How, you weren't certain, but it was enough for him to try persuading the team's Captain.

Not needing to hear any more and sensing the argument was soon to be finished, you turned on your heel quickly and marched down the hallway in a pained rage.

Who did he think he was, getting you removed from the mission? You'd trained just as hard as everyone else so why did he go out of his way to guarantee you not getting picked as a pilot on the mission?

Hot tears sprung to your eyes as you borderline ran down the hall to escape Rooster and Maverick. You had truly thought Bradley cared about you. Had foolishly wondered if he'd ever give you the time and day and see you as more than a friend. But now, the looks that he'd sent your way, the tender softness and care he'd displayed seemed nothing more than a masquerade. Whatever his reasoning, you didn't care to hear.

You heard Bradley's unmistakable voice call your name, and next the quick tapping of his shoes as he ran down the hall to catch up with you.

He called your name again, a lot closer, but when once again you didn't answer, he grabbed your arm and turned you around to face him.

“Y/n–” He began, but you quickly cut him off.

“No, Bradshaw. I don't want to hear it!”

“Just listen– please! I can explain” He pleads.

You can feel your anger building inside of you, “explain what?” You shriek, not caring if anyone hears you, “How dare you! I've worked just as hard if not harder than most to get to where I am, to be called back for a mission, and you've selfishly gone and ruined it for me!”

He sighs in frustration, his voice also raising to meet yours, “Would you please just listen!?”

You don't follow his words, instead pressing further, “What reason could you possibly even have to fucking stop me from going? Because the way I see fit, you're nothing but a selfish asshole who wants to secure the position for yourself! Are you insecure I'm going to beat you to it and it'll be on my record, not yours? Then fine, Bradshaw, have it. I don’t fucking care!”

Bradley is fuming, his skin hot in anger, he was already fired up from his argument with Maverick and this was only fueling his rage. Why won't you listen? “I did it for you!” He all but yells at you, his voice loud in the empty hall, making you shrink away a little in shock, “Why don't you fucking understand that?”

Stunned, but not missing a beat, you reply sarcastically, “I'm sure removing me from the mission in order to get yourself the position is totally ‘for me,” your words are sharp like barbed wire with an unseen rage that simmers beneath your skin, pumping through your veins.

“I did it to protect you, goddamnit!” He bellows suddenly, catching you off guard.

For a long minute, there's nothing but silence, Bradley's angry face dark and dangerously close to yours, his hot breath fanning your face as he puffs loudly in anger. To protect me? You think, why? You don't say anything, instead staring at him with shock. His deep brown eyes ignited with flames of fury as they stared into yours, and you can physically and emotionally feel the anger ebbing away and confusion settling in to take its place.

“Why?” You croak quietly, breaking the silence.

“Because I love you,” he whispers back hesitantly, his hardened face softening.

“I don't need your protecting, Brad,” you say calmly, your voice hushed.

Perhaps it's the gentle, calming softness of your voice, or the heat from the previous confession and emotions left to linger, or maybe even the use of the short nickname from you, but whatever it is has him leaning forwards slightly to place his lips gently on yours in a passionate kiss.

You don't reciprocate immediately, instead pausing in a stupefied state and paralyzed with shock. However, the feeling quickly passes, and your body is overcome with a hunger– a desire– making you melt into him and supply as much passion as he does.

Together, your lips pressing together like two lost souls who've finally found their way back to each other in the most ardent way, you let the strong sense of love you'd held out. Through the years you'd known Bradley, you'd kept your feelings at bay, pushing them down with acceptance that he'd never see you like that, but now– with his admission of love, you'd been handed a key to unlock those pent up emotions in one passionate kiss.

You knew you were standing in the hall and any unsuspecting personnel could walk up at any moment, but you didn't care. The whole world pauses around you and the only thing you focus on is the solstice you find in each other.

Leaning away from Bradley, you breathe a sigh of happiness, “I love you.”

His brown eyes are filled with admiration and awe when he repeats, “I love you more.”

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster tgm #tg #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #tgm #tgm x reader

[icezansky]

Pontiac Blues

a fic by icezansky

Chapter 4/4

summary: When Tom’s car breaks down outside of a small town on Christmas Eve, Maverick and Goose Auto Repair is the only shop to pick up the phone.

A Hallmark Holiday Movie AU.

relationships: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Pete “Maverick” Mitchell, Carole Bradshaw/Nick “Goose” Bradshaw

tags: inspired by Hallmark Christmas Movies, Mechanic!Maverick, Mechanic!Goose, Rich!Iceman, Mentions of Cancer, Alcohol, Bradshaw Family, no betas we die like Goose, Tom drives a Pontiac Firebird, Frottage, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Financial Issues

words: 45.164

#icezansky fic #pontiac blues #top gun fic #tg fic #tg86 fic #icemav fic #IT'S FINALLY DONE WOOOOOO

[tngrace]

Chapter 3

Hope 31..... nough said 🤭 😭 This one hurts... but man did I have fun writing this chapter and the next. I also figured out how I'm going to write the last chapter this week so hopefully in the next two weeks I'll get it written. and then it'll be on to part two. Hope yall enjoy and Happy Easter weekend.

A03 ; Tumblr Masterlists: Main, Mav Chronicles

The weekend is fun and relaxing and just what they needed. Watching Pete with Bradley is a true treat and makes Tom wish for things he knows will probably never be. They head into Monday morning refreshed and ready to go, none of them realizing what’s to come.

The second hop of the day is intense, Mav and Ice going up against each other, essentially sealing the winner of the trophy. Though neither of them really care at this point, would be happy for the other, they’re both still very competitive and determined to win. They go back and forth for the kill, their voices getting more intense and annoyed the longer it goes, more argumentative and impatient. But neither expected the jet wash or the flat spin. 

“Mayday! Mayday! Mav’s in trouble. He’s in a flat spin. He’s heading out to sea!” His voice is calm and controlled but there’s a slight tremor there as he watches. 

He and Slider see the two parachutes, but they know something’s wrong. He circles over head, refusing to leave, even when Jester orders them back. 

“Ice,” Slider says after ten minutes of circling, watching Mav and Goose in the water. 

“I’m not leaving. We don’t know how long search and rescue will take to get here. They’ll need the coordinates as Mav floats.” 

Slider doesn’t push. They both had seen how Goose had hit the canopy, how his body floated listlessly down, how Mav had pulled him into his arms and Goose still didn’t move. Ice keeps circling, and ever so often it looks like Mav looks up at them, but they can’t be sure. 

“Ice, Slider, back to base. SAR is two minutes out.” Viper’s voice is firm over their radio, and finally Ice acknowledges and turns them towards base. He doesn’t say a word on the return flight, leaving Slider worried. 

Mike's heart is in his throat when he hears the mayday call come in. He dispatches search and rescue immediately and grips his hands in tight fists as he waits. He hears Jester order Ice and Slider back to base, but he still doesn't move. He wants to be a dad in this moment but he can't. He has to be a Commander and it's killing him. 

He sees Jester’s plane land, and he takes a deep breath, and then another one. He dials Carrie; "Metcalf's," she answers. 

"I'm going to be late." He doesn't know what else to say without breaking down, but he has to tell her. 

"Mike? What's wrong?" 

"There…." He cuts off, choking back a sob. He breathes deep before he continues. "There was an accident during training. I'll be at the base hospital most of the night." 

"Is everyone ok?"

"I don't know yet. I just…. Waiting on SAR right now. I…"

"Mike?"

"It was Pete," he breathes. He hears her breath catch and he'd love nothing more than to hug her. "I…. I can't go there as…. And you can't…"

"Mike. You call me the minute you lay eyes on him! You hear me? I have to know…" He can hear the hysteria in her voice and he’d love to let her come check on Pete for herself, but he knows they can’t. 

"I will… I will… I just… I have to be detached and I just…"

"I know. Just breathe. You can do this. But you let me know our boy's ok."

He takes another ten deep breaths after hanging up. When he sees that Ice and Slider still haven’t landed, he orders them back to base as well. He’s not sure what is going on with Tom and Pete, but he knows it’s something. Once he sees their plane heading for the landing strip, he pulls himself together and heads to the hangar where he knows the class will have gathered. “You’re dismissed for the day. SAR will take them straight to the base hospital and we’ll let you know when there’s an update.” 

“Can we wait there?” Wolf asks.

“Of course. But you might be waiting a while.” He takes in all their faces and knows he’ll be seeing them all at the hospital. “Dismissed.” 

They scatter, and Mike rakes his hand through his hair. He’d kill for one of Rick’s cigarettes at that moment, but he knows the hospital won’t allow him to have it inside anyways. He makes the trek over, bracing for the worst while hoping for the best. He’s not sure what he’ll do if something happened to his own kid under his watch. 

A nurse greets him as soon as he enters; “Sir.” He gives her a nod to continue because he’s not sure if he can speak right now. “Lieutenant Mitchell is going to be fine. He has some severe bruising, mild concussion and is currently in shock, but overall he will make a full recovery.” 

Mike blows out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “And Bradshaw?” 

The nurse stops their trek down the hall and Mike tenses once more. “I’m sorry Sir. Lieutenant Bradshaw didn’t make it. His neck was broken and likely died upon impact, we assume he hit the canopy. Lieutenant Mitchell hasn’t offered up any details on what happened as of yet, so the doctor is just making assumptions.” 

“Has Bradshaw’s wife been informed?” 

“Not yet, no. We were waiting to see who you wanted to designate to do that.” 

“I’ll handle it,” Mike decides. “Can I see Mitchell?” 

“Of course. Right this way.” She shows him to Pete’s room, and Mike pauses, gathering the strength to push the door open. When he does, he feels the breath knocked out of him once more. Pete looks so small in the bed, eyes closed, but Mike knows he’s not asleep. 

The nurse leaves him with it, and Mike quietly closes the door behind him. Pete’s eyes snap open at the sound of the door closing, and when they meet Mike’s, he quickly turns his head the other way. 

He pulls up a chair beside the bed, and tentatively reaches out for Pete’s hand that has an IV in it. He can see where Pete has picked at the tape around it, and it brings a small smile to his face as he smooths it back out. Some things with his kid will never change, he thinks. “Pete?” 

Pete turns his head back towards him, tears shining in his eyes, but he keeps them from falling. 

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re ok because I know you’re not.” He pauses as he watches Pete just staring at him. “I told mom. She’d be here if she could, you know.” 

“I know,” he croaks in a whisper. 

Mike squeezes his hand tighter once more. “You’re not ok right now, but you will be…. You will be.” 

Pete turns away again and Mike sighs. “We have to be even more careful now, so this is the only time I can offer you any form of comfort kiddo. There’s going to be an inquiry; they’ll let me know the date tomorrow.” Pete still won’t meet his eyes and Mike feels like they’re back at day one when they brought home a scared nine year old that didn’t trust them. “Pete? You know I love you son. But I need you to know that right now and for the next however long it takes to get the brass off our backs, I can’t be ‘dad’. No matter how bad I want to be.” 

Pete gives him a tentative nod, and Mike can’t resist any longer. He leans over and pulls Pete into his arms, into his chest. He resists at first, but the first hint of Mike’s cologne and Pete breaks. The sobs break Mike’s heart even more, and he just holds him. He murmurs soft innate words of comfort as his son breaks in his arms. It takes several, several long minutes before Pete starts settling, his sobs turning to quiet sniffles, before he eventually just goes silent. 

Mike softly strokes his back as he keeps holding him. “I’ll try to sneak mom in after hours ok?” 

He knows Carrie isn’t going to rest with just his reassurance that Pete is ok, and he knows Pete really needs her at this moment. Pete gives a small nod before his whispered words destroy what is left of his broken heart. “Just don’t get in trouble for me.” 

Mike pulls Pete’s head off his chest and stares into Pete’s eyes. “We’d do anything for you and you know it kiddo. If it comes down to a choice between you and the Navy…” Pete tries to interrupt him, but Mike just keeps talking. “If it does, I’m choosing you every time kiddo. Every. Single. Time.” 

“Mike…” 

“I mean it Pete. You are my son, my kid, and if the Navy doesn’t like it, they can go fuck themselves. You matter Pete. I love you son.” 

“Love you too dad,” he whispers as he falls back into Mike’s chest. 

Mike lets out a deep breath at that. Pete isn’t ok, but he’ll make sure he is, no matter what he has to do. 

After several minutes of letting Pete resettle he has the horrible task of making Pete recount what happened. It’s the most detached he’s ever heard his kid, and it strengthens his resolve to sneak Carrie in to see him later. Once he’s sure he has everything Pete can recall, he squeezes his hand once more. “Try to get some rest. I can keep the others out if you want?” 

“Na. It’s fine. I’m sure they need to see with their eyes I’m fine. Especially Ice and Slider.” 

“Alright. I’ll let them know.” He leans close in case anyone can hear; “I’ll get mom in here later. That’s a promise.” 

Pete gives him a weak nod. They both know what a risk it is, but he’d do it over and over for Pete. He gives him a nod and then heads for the door, with one glance back at his son. 

Mike’s not surprised to find the six aviators waiting in the waiting room. They all jump up as soon as they see him, and Mike pulls himself together. “Mitchell is going to be fine. Some bruises that will heal in time and a mild concussion. He’ll be discharged tomorrow.” 

He sees a small relief flow through the group, and he knows what he says next will cause it to vanish. 

“Bradshaw on the other hand, is… dead. Broke his neck on the canopy as soon as he hit. I’m going to inform his wife now.” 

The six aviators before him are deathly quiet, grief written across all their faces. 

“Can we see Mav?” Wolfe finally breaks the silence. 

Mike gives them a nod. “He’s pretty detached, still in shock. He’s resting, but he said it would be fine for all of you to visit. Probably do him some good to not be alone right now. Classes are dismissed for the rest of the week. When arrangements have been made, you’ll be the first to know.” He gives them a nod of dismissal and takes his leave. 

The six aviators scurry down the hall to Mav’s room. Wolf and Wood are through the door first, just barely squeezing in before Chipper and Sunny. Ice stands at the door for a long moment just breathing, trying to prepare, and Slider waits with him squeezing his shoulder. Tom wants nothing more than to race in and scoop Pete into his arms, but he knows he can’t. Once he lays eyes on his boyfriend, who’s barely engaging with the other four, he leans in the corner just watching. He can see Pete’s eyes trail over to him ever so often, and he finally sees when Slider realizes they need to go. Tom gives him a nod of thanks, and promises to get back to their base housing later, before Ron turns and ushers everyone out. 

Once he’s sure they’re gone, he walks over and settles on the side of Pete’s bed. His hand ghosts over Pete’s forehead, brushing the hair back. “Hey,” he whispers. 

Pete can’t speak, too choked up holding back tears. 

“Come here,” Tom whispers, easing down and helping Pete sit up some and lean into his arms. He holds him as tight as he dares, knowing under the gown Pete will be covered in bruises too painful to be held too tight. “I’m so sorry,” Tom whispers over and over as Pete sobs in his arms. He finally exhausts himself even more, and Tom can feel him drift off. He eases Pete back to the bed and covers him up. He sits and watches him sleep, knowing the coming days, weeks, and months are going to be hell, and wonders if Pete will blame him, wonders if this will be the end of them. Once Pete is deep asleep, Tom takes his leave, knowing he can’t stay any longer without them being found out. 

After talking with Carole, he finally makes it home; it’s late enough he knows he’ll just be leaving as soon as he’s through the door though. Carrie is waiting on him at the door just as he suspected, and he pulls her into his arms. “He’s going to be ok. Just some bruising and a mild concussion. He was still in shock earlier. I…” He feels her squeeze him tighter and he lets out a soft sigh. “I promised to sneak you in. He needs you.” 

“Do we tell the girls?” 

“Not yet. Sneaking you in is going to be hard enough. I don’t need Catherine leaving Cynthia and banging down the hospital door or Jamie freaking out.” 

Carrie gives him a soft huff of a laugh. “Alright. Let me get my purse and we can go.” 

Once at the hospital, Mike nods to the night nurses, but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t see any of the class in the waiting room, and assuming they’re not still with Pete, they should be at home. He stops right outside Pete’s room and tries to listen for any voices, but doesn’t hear any. He pushes the door open just a hair, and sees it empty, Pete just lying in the bed staring off into space. 

He turns back and gives Carrie a nod, before pushing the door open further for her to slip past him. He closes the door behind them, but stays near it, so he can run interference if anyone comes to it. As soon as she’s by his side, she sits on the side of the bed and pulls Pete into her arms. 

“Mom,” he cries as he clings to her, and it breaks Mike’s heart even more. Carrie just hugs him tight, her hand running up and down his back and into his hair. 

When Pete has finally exhausted himself of tears, he whispers “I killed him,” effectively tearing both his parents’ hearts out. 

Mike moves across the room at that statement, joining Carrie on the side of the bed. He eases Pete back from her hold and cradles his face. “Look at me son.” 

Pete slowly meets his eyes, unable to ignore the firm demand in Mike’s voice. “You did not kill Nick. You did not kill him. You hear me?” 

“I did though. He was my RIO, my responsibility.” 

“Pete…” 

Carrie cuts him off though, knowing that Pete isn’t going to believe a word of any argument at the moment. She cradles Pete’s cheek and kisses his forehead. “You need to get some sleep sweetheart.” 

“Don’t think I can,” he sighs. He knows he’d fallen asleep on Tom, but it doesn’t feel like he slept long at all before a nightmare gripped him. When he’d woken and been alone, he laid there staring off into space, knowing sleep would be hard to come by. 

“Try. We’ll stay til you’re asleep,” she promises. 

She gets him to ease back against the bed, and softly runs her fingers through his hair. It’s the fastest way to settle Pete; they'd learned the first time the kid hadn’t gotten sick after coming to live with them. She keeps it up until his eyes drift, and even after until he’s deep asleep. 

“He’s going to be ok,” Mike reassures her as they watch him sleep for a few more minutes. They don’t linger long though, despite Carrie wanting to stay.

The next morning, the inquiry information is waiting on Mike the minute he steps on base. He goes through Mav’s file one more time to make sure nothing of their connection is hidden in there, even though he knows the file like the back of his hand. When he’s sure everything is good, he makes the trek over to the base hospital to deliver the news about the inquiry. From here on he knows everything has to be above board until the brass is done sniffing around. 

When he walks into Pete’s room, he’s surprised to see him not there. He has a moment of panic before one of the nurses points him towards the bathroom down the hall. He gives her a nod and heads in. Mav is leaning heavily on the sink, but he somehow managed to shave. Mike catalogs the bruising along his chest and shoulders from his harness that he wasn’t able to see yesterday because of the gown. He knows there’s probably some along his thighs as well, he just can’t see them. He wants so badly to pull his kid into his arms and never let go, but they also have more eyes on them now more than ever. He just has to be careful, not show emotion or favoritism, he keeps reminding himself, and they’ll get through this. He calls on all his years in the service to keep it together as he meets his kids' eyes. He doesn’t like what he sees; Pete’s eyes have always been alive and full of mischief. They always shine and sparkle so bright. But right now, they are dead, lifeless, emotionless, same as yesterday.”How you doing?” he manages to ask.

“I’m alright.” It’s rough and so much quieter than Pete normally talks it throws Mike for a minute. He spins and meets Pete’s eyes in the mirror trying to portray that he has to be a Commander at the moment. 

“Goose is dead.” Internally he winces at how straightforward and harsh he has to be, and he knows the minute Carrie finds out, she is going to be livid. But they all knew when Pete joined up, that a time like this might come, and Pete told him then, as a bright eyed eighteen year old, that he’d never hold it against him. 

“I know.” His eyes drop back to the sink, hand splashing more water onto his face, and Mike can see he’s barely holding it together. He wants to tell him to come home with him, let Carrie mother him to death, but he bites it all back. Seeing her last night is going to have to be enough for now. Pete runs another hand over his face, and takes some deep breaths. Mike recalls words one of his former COs told him after Duke died. At the time he hated it, and he knows Pete is going to hate being told the same thing, but he needs to say it. “You fly jets long enough, something like this happens.” 

“He was my RIO, my responsibility!” It’s an echo of his statement last night and Mike knows the guilt is eating him alive. He knows he’s going to have to work hard to get Pete to let it go, if that will even be possible. He knows Goose was like a brother to him; that Carole and Goose both welcomed Pete into their family. But he can’t see his kid drown in grief, not if he can help it. 

“In my squadron in Vietnam, we lost eight of eighteen aircraft. Ten men. First one dies, you die too. But there will be others. You can count on it. You gotta let him go.” His hand touches his side, draws across his back, offering as much comforting touch as he can in that moment. “You gotta let him go.”  He knows it's harsh, hates the words coming out of his own mouth, but as a Commander, it’s what you’re supposed to say. 

Pete’s eyes are hard as they stare at him despite being red rimmed, but Mike does his best to let it roll off his back. “Your inquiry hearing is scheduled for two days from now at 0800. Jester and I will be there. I don’t see any reasons why you won’t be cleared and can return to finish the program before graduation.” 

Pete doesn’t say anything and won’t meet his eyes again. He walks away even though it kills him too. He passes Tom in the parking lot and he knows he was right about something going on between the two. He gives the Lieutenant a nod, wants to pull him to the side and threaten him if he so much as dares to break Pete in any way. But he knows he can’t, so he keeps walking and just hopes Tom will be able to get through to his kid. 

Tom finds Pete back in his room, trying to dress. “Can I help?” he asks from the doorway. 

Pete gives him a nod and Tom comes over, helping him pull his shirt down. The bruising looks worse today, and his body is stiff and achy. He’s refused anymore pain pills though and just wants to leave. “I saw Viper leaving.” 

“Mmm yea. Stopped by to give me the information for the inquiry hearing.” 

“It wasn’t your fault Pete.” 

“Let’s not. I don’t… I just want to get out of here.” 

Tom bites back all his retorts that Pete needs to talk about this and just gives him a nod. “Carole and Bradley are at the base housing. I can take you there.” 

Pete gives him another nod, and follows Tom out the door. Once in the car, the silence is almost unbearable. “Pete…” Tom starts when they’re in front of the housing, but stops when Pete cuts his eyes at him.  

“Might be best if we just had some space right now. You don’t need messed up in this hearing too.” 

“I have to be there because I was in the air with you.” 

“Better to be safe than sorry.” 

Tom wants to argue, wants to push that Pete doesn’t need to do this or push everyone away, but his own guilt is eating him alive. Thus, he’d do anything Pete asks. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” 

Pete won’t meet his eyes so Tom knows he’s lying. “I just want him back,” Pete says softly before he gets out. He closes the door and doesn’t look back. 

Tom watches him go, his heart breaking, but knowing he will give Pete anything. He watches until Pete is inside the door before driving off. 

#my writing #maverick chronicles #icemav #icemav fic #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #nick goose bradshaw #mike viper metcalf #vipapa #top gun #tg #top gun fic #tg fic #MCD

[kayatoastkkat]

hey I'm back at the fanfic fanart again

I am still in deep denial that How to be a Proper Gentleman ended :( This is my coping mechanism now. This is also your reminder to read @quilna's fics and that you will not regret it. (Though I do recommend having some tissues, a mop and a bucket at standby. There is sure to be an ocean of tears.)

anyways are you on team Hyde's shitty drawing or team Lanyon's shitty drawing let me know in the notes lmao I wanna see

#the glass scientists #my art #no seriously this was one of my favourite scenes in the fic #i said it before in DMs that 'this is too funny to simply leave as words on a screen' and I'm right #tgs fanart #tgs jekyll #tgs lanyon #tgs hyde #AND IM DONE WITH THIS FINALLY WOOOO #how to be a proper gentleman

[poetryinsilence]

Noughts and Crosses - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x childhood friend!reader (part II)

A/n: Two idiots under one roof "Oh no, they're sleeping on the same bed" It's nothing but comic relief and trying to bond. And domestic fluff cuz this boy needs it. No beta read, going in raw

Summary: Jake is your new roommate whether you like it or not. Now what? He's been nothing but a pain in the ass for you, but the recovery of his injuries depends on it. You just have to...power through it. Possibly maybe...or maybe not...

Wc: 2,099

part I part III part IV

The car turns the final corner to a sparse suburban street as you pull into the driveway of a small, two-story house. Tan coloured with cracks crawl up its dry walls and connected with a white front porch, enough room to fit two chairs and a small coffee table.

You tug on the flimsy hand brake with a grunt and the car jolts for a split second. Take in a breath to calm your raging emotions and humming internally. You stare at Jake who's looking a bit confused at your house but meets your gaze with a chill down his spine.

"If we're gonna live as harmoniously as possible, we’ll have to lay down some ground rules. One; you're only staying until you are healed. Any minor injuries you sustain from this moment on, I will not be taking care of it. Two; I will drive you to your appointments and you will not be missing any of them. Do we have an agreement?”

Jake tilts his head and rubs his chin with that cartoonish thinking motion. Your eye twitches, holding back a fist threatening to collide with his chiselled face. “Yeah, I have a rule I’d like to add.”

“No, you don’t get to make a decision here. You’re not at the academy.” You snapped.

“I remember clearly you said ‘we’. And I believe that includes me, so strictly speaking I get to make a rule here.” He declares.

A vein popped in your head as you begrudgingly admit that he’s right and curse your mouth for running words too soon. “Fine. What are you suggesting?”

Jake flashes his million-watt smile and you regret it instantly. “Given my injured status, I think it’s best that I sleep on the bed for a faster than light recovery.”

“No, the bed is mine. You can sleep on the couch. It’s big enough to fit you and your injured ass on it.”

“Hey, I don’t sleep well on couches. They give me terrible back pains. You don’t want me to delay the process of my recovery, right?”

“Bed is mine and that’s final.”

“Okay, how about this,” He bites his lip and thinks for a second. “I get half of the bed— possibly less than half, and we could share for a short period. C’mon, it’s my only rule. What do you say?” Jake wiggles his brow in an attempt at temptation.

If it wasn’t for his disgustingly good looks, you would’ve seriously left him in the streets on the drive back. But also you won’t hear the end of it from your mother’s words of rage. You always knew she loved Jake more than you and how she always speaks of wanting a son whenever Jake is over. But funnily enough, Jake’s mother treats you like you were her own daughter all the time. Which made you think that some doctor accidentally swapped you both at birth by mistake, and you firmly believed that was the case.

You sigh, knowing that an argument with Jake Seresin always ends up badly and mostly you come out being wounded from the process. “Fine, you can get a third of the bed.” Even saying that left a bad taste in your mouth.

He beams, clapping his hands together for his tiny victory. “Looking forward to it, roomie!”

Reaching for the car door, the hinges groaned as the serene sunset breeze drifted in. Jake makes the car door sound in his attempt to peel himself off from the car seat but struggles to coordinate his movement and the crutches.

"Hold on, I'll come get you." You transferred yourself over to the other side of the car and wrapped his arm around your neck to hoist him to his feet. This awkward four-legged collaboration of going up just a mere three steps up your front porch ended up with the both of you heaving at the entrance hallway. Hopefully, nobody else saw that.

Jake hops around the perimeter of your cute and humble abode, snickering to himself as he peers around the cream-coloured kitchen. "Glad to see the collection of horrifying Beanie Babies are gone. You finally picked up on some grown-up hobbies with the postcards." He points at the facade of your fridge, decorated with magnets and postcards from different vacation spots.

The duffle bag slinks off your shoulder and falls to the hardwood floor with a thud. You rolled your eyes hard enough that's almost audible, dragging your feet towards the interior of your house. "For your information, Beanie Babies are one of the most valuable inventions of our generations. Just because it doesn't suit your college frat boy taste doesn't mean other people don't enjoy it."

He takes a beat, watches the wenge staircase intently then flickers back to your face with a stoic expression. "What's upstairs?" He points, left eyebrow arched with curiosity, or mockery.

What is this interrogation? You have not committed any crime, and yet, the dynamic of this conversation made you uneasy and under the spotlight. Correction: you haven't committed any crime, yet. Not with where this conversation is going.

"Nothing in particular...just my office. And storage room."

"Ah, there it is." Yep, there it is. And so is that obnoxious smile appearing again that's leaning ever so slightly towards hate than love. Love as in they are tolerable. Love as in 'I can be in the same room as him without committing a crime'. Honestly, crime doesn't sound so bad right now.

Your nose wrinkled, arms crossed as you scowl at Jake with a choleric gaze, repressing all the murderous thoughts back in its pandora's box. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He pouts and shrugs in response.

"Nothing...just, nothing..." He starts shuffling away. "Bedroom's that way, right?"

*

Nightfall swept you up in a whirlwind from what you experienced just one day, the inexplicable fatigue that was caused by one person alone could drain your battery out in a flash. And said person, now sat on the nearside of the bed, scrolling nonchalantly on his phone, still in his 4-day-old attire.

"You’ve been wearing that for the past few days. You’re not sleeping on my bed with them.” You demanded.

He peels his eyes away from the phone screen to look down at his sweatpants combo and then at you. "Great, I'll sleep butt naked then." He frisbees the device and begins to slip his fingers through the thick waistband.

"Stopstopstop!" you screeched, slamming down the brakes to stop Jake from whatever he's about to do. You rummage through your closet, in search of the clothes you got from Goodwill but never made their way to the hospital, and not because you forgot about them. You grabbed a fistful of clothes and smack dead upon Jake's face.

"Please, change into these. You know your way to the bathroom and I am sure you don't need any of my help. Goodnight, Lieutenant." The silky sheets flipped open to your side of the bed as you plop down to the cool, comforting feeling and sleep overtakes you in an instant, leaving Jake dumbfounded with the article of clothing in his hand.

*

You woke up to the sound of Jake's light snoring, as opposed to your usual morning bird song. The odd feeling of waking up next to someone hasn't occurred to you since your senior years of college. Even then, those feelings can't reciprocate as a sense of security.

With the notion of familiar unfamiliarity as you observe Jake, happily in stasis; body twists to mildly lay on his stomach, but not fully with his white-casted arm in restriction, leg crossed over gingerly to your side to relieve any uncomfortable pain. You booped his nose and smiled playfully to yourself as you watched him scrunch his nose in his sleep. He almost looks cute. Almost. When he's not running that mouth of his.

Uneagerly, you pushed your sleepy weight off the mattress to prepare head-on with whatever lies in front of you for the day. You tie your hair up with your signature ponytail, decorated yourself with a dose of light makeup, and left some instructions for Jake.

'Made coffee so help yourself.

Breakfast and lunch in fridge

Remember to microwave them

Do NOT leave the house

Be back at 5'

The post-it note clings to its dear life at the denim blue cabinet door where Jake would notice it coming out to the kitchen. You snatched your keys off the counter and made your way towards the front door but you halted for a brief moment and picked up the pen and post-it note again.

‘REMEMBER TO TAKE YOUR MEDS’

Satisfied with your arrangement, you set off for your shift at work.

The immense pleasure that the cats and dogs brought to you at the animal shelter made you enjoy work the most. That and your colleagues’ apprehension made you believe there is still a slither of good left in this world, as they let you leave 30 minutes early from your shift. Though it’s another quiet day at the shelter, you still feel bad for leaving all the paperwork to them.

Pre-rush hour is probably what you love the most. Driving down the highway and blasting your favourite tunes, singing on top of your lungs without any judgement of bad singing, or somebody honking at you to move in an unmovable queue and flipping you off from the view of your rearview mirror.

You pull up to the front of your driveway with a tightening sound to your brakes and the engine stops. The comfort of your couch is just mere steps away and you could feel that tingling sense building up and waiting to be released. Keys rattled and clicks the lock free to your comfort zone as you kicked off your shoes, but you were greeted with the sight of Jake sprawled out on the couch with his plastered leg rested on top of the coffee table, the only free hand on its way to stuff his face with powdered donuts. Eyes fixated on whatever is on tv.

Hm, donuts?

“I don’t remember getting donuts.” Your eyes squint at him but he’s still unfazed by the tv. “Did you leave the house?”

“Nah, Coyote came by and dropped it off for me.” He spoke nonchalantly.

“…A coyote got you donuts…?” Sure, Jake could be unpredictable at times and surprises you in many different ways. Befriending a coyote you could believe, but imagining a coyote going into a 7-11 to purchase donuts…if you told people this story they would just write you off as delusional and you can say goodbye to your freedom. You can’t believe that there are wild coyotes in the heart of San Diego. Maybe you should prepare for the worst case scenario if you’ve ever encountered one…

Jake unpeels his face from the tv to give you his full attention that speaks an ‘Are you serious' expression.

“No, Coyote is one of my buddies from work. He came to check up on me and debrief what I’ve missed.”

“You told somebody I’ve never met my address?!” Eyes wide in horror and jaw hanging down to the floor in awe, now you believe you need to protect yourself from not just coyotes but an actual Coyote.

“Relax, he’s not going to break in and steal your Beanie Babies. He’s got a better retirement plan than you do and could probably live the rest of his life in Hawaii, sipping on piña coladas.” His cocky grin can’t provide any reassurance, but screaming at his face won’t help anything.

You sigh and trudge your way to your eclectic yellow coach. Jake offers you a donut as a console and you begrudgingly accept without a second thought. You tuned out to whatever movie Jake is playing with your Netflix account, sitting comfortably as you watched the actors on screen embodying their characters. 

Both of you acknowledge the presence of one another but choose to keep silent. You wondered back to the cartoons you both watched every Saturday. Laying on the plush carpets of your living room, eyes glued to the technicolour animations, from actions to comedy. You wonder if it’s then Jake started to know what he wanted to become when he's older, you wonder if he's thinking about your shared childhood too. Do the memories of you creep into his mind every now and then? You could break the silence and ask him about the past 20 years. But you know better to leave yourself guessing than hear an answer that will disappoint you.

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[duchesschameleon]

our pilot trio as well please :) whatever you wish

mhhmmm pilot trio

the sun is just peaking over the horizon when the boys find her, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, mug in hand. the porch creaks as they walk towards her, alerting her to their presence before they settle on the swinging bench, one on either side.

“so this is where you disappear to when rooster hogs the blankets,” jake says as he cuddles into nat’s side. she hums in lieu of an actual answer as bradley squawks out his protest, earning his call sign as the sun continues to rise in the sky.

“shhh,” she says over their noise, “just take it in, first sunrise on the ranch this year.”

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