#tgm angst

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Ticking time bomb - Jake Seresin Imagine x bestie reader

A/N: okay so you guys loved protective Jake in the first blurb, so here’s some more of him. This can be a stand alone or read as part 2 to Her protector

Warnings: cursing, verbal abuse, mentions of physical abuse, and Jake being protective again

The next week following the family day cookout were beyond tense in your household. You lived with your current boyfriend Nathan, and the fighting the two of you were doing just kept getting worse and worse. You were sleeping on the couch almost every night, you were crying yourself to sleep, and you were in a hole of despair. You had barely seen Jake since he stood up for you at the cookout, Nathan making sure he stayed far away from you. It absolutely broke your heart, but you felt trapped with absolutely no other choice.

It was a typical Saturday night, Nathan was out with his squad and you were at home watching a movie by yourself. You were curled up on the couch watching the notebook when he stumbled through the front door drunk as can be. “Hey, baby..” he started, trying to lean against the wall. “I saw your piece of shit ex best friend tonight. You’ll be happy to know he seems totally fine without you.” The words stung as you sat up, tears rolling down your cheeks. They couldn’t be true, could they? There’s no way Jake would just not care about you like that.

“You’re lying.” The words were a whisper that barely registered, your mind questioning if you even asked the words out loud. “I’m not. He is completely fine without you.” He had a shit eating grin on his face that absolutely broke you. You let out a shaky breath and unlocked your phone, a picture of you on Jake’s back instantly coming up. You two were in high school in this picture. Jake had just got done playing in a championship game and they had won and his mom had wanted a picture of the two of you to celebrate. You had missed school for two whole days to watch him play and the two of you had the biggest grins on your faces. He couldn’t be right. There’s no way.

You typed up a text to Jake asking how he could care so little about you and the response was clearly him being flabbergasted. What on earth are you talking about?

That sealed your fate with Nathan. Him, lying to your face about your friendship with Jake. “Fuck you.” That was all you said as you walked out to your car, tears rolling down your cheeks. It has been bad this week, but this was the lowest point. You felt so isolated and alone. Your phone rang repeatedly with calls from Jake, all of them going unanswered as you sat in your car numb and disconnected. What even was going on anymore?

You just sat in your car in the driveway , watching the rain pour down your windshield. It was like Mother Nature was in tune with your emotions and she was playing with the weather. You felt your phone vibrate again and you checked it, seeing Jake’s name pop up from a text message. Fuck it, I’m coming over.

And with that, you knew you had no choice in the matter. You sat for what felt like seconds, but you knew it was longer than that. You saw Jake’s headlights come into view and you numbly opened your door, seeing the boy immediately come into view. “Oh, Peach..” his voice was quiet, a tone only you got to see. He looked you over quietly, making sure there wasn’t a single scratch on you. His nostrils were flaring with anger as he took you by the hand and carefully helped you out of your car and into his truck.

No words were shared as you laid your head against the window, your eyes watching as the lights of the town blurred by. You closed your eyes and managed to try and keep your breath steady and normal.

Jake kept his eyes going from the road to you, his chest aching in a massive way. This was his fault. He introduced you to Nathan. It had ruined his entire plan for that night at the party. He had his friends in on it and he was going to have them pick you two for seven minutes in heaven and he was going to confess his feelings to you in the closet, but of course, Nathan took you over that night. He let out an audible sigh that got your attention, eyes shifting over to his as he stopped at a stop light. “He said you didn’t care about me anymore.” Your voice was quiet, barely a whisper that broke the quiet tension between the two of you. The blonde boy scoffed, looking at you incredulously, “Please. You are one of the only people in the world I care about besides my mom and sisters.” You felt a blush rise up in your cheeks as you looked down at your lap. You knew it was true.

“I know,” The words were a bit stronger than your last ones, a small smile gracing your lips as the two of you pulled into the driveway of the house that Jake shared with Bradley, the bronco parked in the other slot in the driveway. “Can we watch the losers?” It was your favorite movie and it would cheer you up instantly. He agreed and the two of you made your way into the house. You curled up on the couch under a blanket next to Jake.

You were watching the movie one second and then the next Jake felt a weight on his arm and you were knocked out. He chuckled quietly and attempted to keep watching the movie until he eventually passed out on the couch next to you.

The two of you slept like that for a few hours until you heard raised voices and you stirred from your sleep slowly. “She’s not here, just leave.” That was Bradley’s voice. “Seriously, man. Get the fuck out.” That was Jake’s voice. “I know she’s here, I saw your truck in my driveway Fiona hit.” And there was Nathan. You let out a shaky breath as you finally came too and stood up from the couch, it squeaking quietly under you.

“Baby, I know you’re in there.” You could hear Nathan and he sounded like the man you fell in love with, your heart shattered. “Please come home. I’ve been up worried sick about you all night.” You could feel your throat constricting and you could feel Bradley and Jake both looking at you. You looked down at the floor, thinking.

You could see Jake wanted to approach you. He wanted to tell you to stay, but he didn’t. It wasn’t his place. “Please baby girl, I’ll stop drinking for you, I promise.” And those were the words that did it, you took a few steps forward and moved between the two aviators and into Nathan’s waiting embrace. He kissed your forehead, apologizing profusely. You could visibly see Jake’s heart break as the two of you walked away, Nathan promising to never hurt you again.

However, little did you and Jake know, that you would show up at his house just days later black and blue and needing him more than ever.

#jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin imagines #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagines #hangman imagines #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman imagine #tgm one shot #tgm imagines #tgm imagine #tgm fanfiction #tgm angst #jake seresin one shot #jake seresin blurb #tgm blurb #jake seresin fluff #hangman x you

[callsigncherub]

K.

Summary: Think I like you best when you're just with me and no one else.

Your friendship with Bradley was questionable after you both decided to become friends with benefits. What happens when you realize you've fallen in love with him?

Warnings: Angst, fluff, a teeny amount of smut.

Word count: 2409 words

K.

The dynamic between yours and Rooster’s friendship was confusing to most people, including yourself. You were his best friend, and he was yours.

Initially, that’s all it was, and you were happy with that. But, somewhere over the last two years you’ve both spent together back at TOPGUN, the line between friends and lovers became blurred after a particularly heavy night of drinking whilst celebrating a successful mission with the squad at the Hard Deck. At the time, you and Rooster had both agreed that it was a one-time thing that wouldn’t change your friendship, because it didn’t mean anything.

And how wrong you both were.

Because suddenly, its 3am and you’re pulling Rooster into your apartment in a heated kiss, the buzz from the alcohol you’ve both consumed burning through your veins as you’re undressing each other in a mixture of lust and urgency, inevitably falling into bed with one another.

And you love it. The praises he’s mumbling against your neck in between placing wet, hot kisses over your pulse point as you come undone on his fingers, gripping his hair as if your life depended on it. Or the way he cradles your face in his hands and whispers about ‘how fucking perfect you are, his girl taking his cock so well’. But soon after you’ve both collapsed, fucked out from the night’s activities, you find yourselves sharing meaningless pillow talk about a future that doesn’t exist, looking at each other through eyes so intimate and familiar. Eyes that felt like home.

But somewhere along the line you fell, hard and fast at the thought of what you could be and all the things you wanted to last with him. In the moments, you were fast for him, and in all of the nights you spent together, tangled in the sheets, covered in sweat, and panting heavily, you gave him everything. It felt like every inch of your body was his, every breath of your soul belonged to him, and every beat of your heart was made for him. Making love soon became falling in love.

The hardest part of suffering the consequences of this viscous cycle of fucking and immediately pretending nothing had ever happened was that whilst you wanted all of him, all he wanted was your body. Nothing more, nothing less. But no amount of warning in the world could have prepared you for that familiar nauseous feeling in your stomach that you’d get waking up in the morning alone.

You often find yourself thinking about the way you feel when his eyes look directly into yours as he calls you baby, especial to his somatic pleasure only, and you desperately try to hold him close, to savour the way his body feels against your own. But it makes you wonder if you’re enough for him, or if your sole purpose is to make him cum. He’s not yours to keep and that makes you feel the guilt of breaking your rule. No feelings. This doesn’t change anything, We’re still friends. Best friends. But somewhere along the way, boundaries washed down the drain and the memories you shared began to slip away and fade into nothing.

And that’s how you’ve ended up sat in your car, in the parking lot of the Hard Deck gripping the steering wheel so tightly you have borderline cramp in your hands, trying your hardest to catch your breath whilst hot tears carve a ruthless stinging sensation down your cheeks.

“You’re jealous.” Phoenix said, patting you on the back and handing you a beer. She followed your eyes to where you were burning holes through the back of Rooster’s head whilst he was chatting to one of the girls who worked behind the bar.

“What are you talking about? I am not.” You defended yourself, but not once did your eyes move, still trained into a scowl, forehead aching from the frown that’s been etched into your features for the last 20 minutes.

“Look, I’m not judging you, Aries, but I really think you should tell him how you feel because its obvious there’s something going on between you two.” She huffed, wishing one of you would just bite the bullet and admit your feelings for each other. She knew there was something going on with You and Rooster, everyone did, they could see the mutual pining, the tiptoeing around one another. Everyone felt like they were watching a continuous game of catch and release – maybe, one day, you could both find the courage to tell each other how you really feel about each other.

“I don’t think I’m in the mood to have my feelings hurt anymore tonight, Nix.” You mumbled, downing your beer, and turning to face her. “He’s my best friend, and if that’s all he’ll ever be then I’m happy with that. In don’t want to lose him over feelings I’ll eventually get over.” About to turn back to the bar, ready to order another drink and continue to drown your sorrows pathetically for the rest of the night, the bile that rose up in your throat and the tears prickling the corners of your eyes at the sight of Rooster with his arm around said girl was enough of a sign to tell you it was time to go home.

“Actually, I think I’m going to head home for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You announced quickly before grabbing your things and rushing out the door, heading straight for your car.

“Wait! Don’t leave, this isn’t worth it. Trust me you just need to talk to him.” She called after you, but you never looked back.

It was in that moment that Phoenix immediately saw red, she’d had enough, and, in all honesty, the squad had placed a $50 bet on who was going to make the move first. And not only did she want her money, but she also wanted to spite Hangman who had been droning on for months about how “Roosters to pussy to admit how he feels.” So, before her brain could catch up to her actions, her legs carried her over to where Rooster was now stood on his own at the bar after his date for the night had head home.

“Hey Nix, where did Aries go? –“

“Shut up Bradshaw, whatever is going on between you and Aries, you need to talk about it. You need to tell her how you feel.”

“I really don’t feel like getting rejected tonight, Phoenix.”

“Funny, she said a similar thing to me, right before she left because you were too focused on blondie to notice she was even here.”

In that moment, Bradley new he’d fucked up, bad.

You couldn’t be mad; Rooster was never yours to begin with and he deserved to have fun – she was a pretty girl, and she wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was all innocent enough. But you couldn’t help but wish you were her with his arm around you laughing and having a good time. And you felt more shame than anything that you’d even put yourself in this position in the first place, that you’d ever let yourself get this hurt over something you could have controlled in the first place.

The thing is, Rooster often spent his nights wondering what it would be like to have a future with you in it as more than just his best friend. He wanted you and only you, but he’d never found the right time or the right words to say. So, after a night well spent with you, he’d often find that as much as he wanted it, sleep never came. And as you lie there, bathed in the dim glow of the moon, eyes closed peacefully, and chest rising and falling at a steady pace, he would take the time to admire just how beautiful you looked. And in doing so, couldn’t help the ache in his chest when he realised just how badly he wanted to call you his. You’re completely unaware of your surrounding and he laughs to himself as he watches your body curl into him, and your hand placed on his chest twitch every so often. Soon after, one-night blends into another day and he’s sure to smooth your hair over and place a kiss to your forehead, before gathering his things and leaving quietly, making sure to lock your door on the way out.

He didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way, but now that you’ve left the bar and he knows you’re upset with him, he feels all the more disappointed in himself for not telling you how he’s felt since he laid eyes on you on your first day back at TOPGUN. Instead, he thought that if sleeping with you was the only way he could be as close to you intimately enough to feel like you were his and he was yours, then maybe it would make him feel better.

You eventually wiped your eyes, and the drive home was a silent one filled with the frequent sounds of your sniffling. Parking your car and heading into your apartment, you slumped down on your bed and continued to cry until you physically couldn’t cry any longer. Then you looked in the mirror at your now ruined makeup. “Your pathetic, stop crying, this is your own fault.”

Meanwhile, Rooster was already in the Bronco, driving as fast as he could to your apartment in a desperate attempt to make sure you were okay and hopefully tell you how he felt. Because in that moment, where Phoenix handed his ass to him earlier on in the night, he knew that nothing, even potential rejection, could upset him more than knowing he was the one to hurt you tonight.

“Fuck Aries, pick up the phone, please.”

You were about to grab a glass of water before heading to bed when a loud bang on the door startled you and you nearly dropped the glass in your hand. Placing it down on the counter, you huffed and opened your door to reveal a very sympathetic looking pilot staring right back at you. Stuck in two minds about slamming the door in his face or moving to let him in, you chose the latter option and locked your door behind you.

“Can we talk?” Rooster mumbled, leaning against your kitchen counter, heart breaking at the sight of puffy eyes and a tear-stained face looking up at him.

“Sure.” You said, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

You gestured to your sofa and sat down at other ends. An awkward silence filled the room, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole as you realised you were sat there in one of his old UVA shirts that you’d stolen from him a while back. Even though he’d seen every inch of your naked body, you felt too exposed and the chill coming in from your open window sent a sheen of goosebumps over the exposed skin of your legs.

“Phoenix told me you left, and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Rooster mumbled.

“You could’ve called me for that, you didn’t have to come all the way here.” You bit back, shocked at your sudden outburst.

“I did Aries, you didn’t answer.” He said, taking a in a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face.

You moved to grab your phone from you purse that you’d thrown onto your coffee table in a fit of frustration once you’d arrived home and saw that you did, in fact, have about 20 missed calls from him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking at my phone. Is there anything else you wanted to say because I’m really tired and just want to go to bed.” You sighed; already done with the conversation you’d hoped would turn out differently.

You weren’t really sure what happened next, but all you could feel was Roosters lips on yours. He pulled you into his lap, stroking your sides as you relaxed into the kiss – your body was on fire, melting against his own as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in further. But before anything could progress, he was gripping at your sides and pulling you off of him.

“Aries” he panted, “This isn’t what I’ve come here for. And that’s when the tears immediately sprang back to your eyes.

“What have you come here for then Bradley? Because every week you’re here and not just to talk. I don’t know what the hell you want from me anymore and I can’t do this!” And that’s when the floodgates well and truly opened. “One moment you want me and the next you’re with someone else. All of this has been a mistake. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.” You whimpered.

“No, no Aries, I’ve come here because I love you! I fucking adore you and I hurt you. I hurt you by not telling you how I felt, and I let you leave tonight because I was too busy trying to find yet another distraction because there’s no way I was going to ruin our friendship if you don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you, and I’m sorry that it took Phoenix twisting my balls about it before I said anything. If you think I’d ever want anyone else when I have you then I’ve failed in showing you how much you mean to me.” He sighed frustratedly, reaching out to take your hands in his own.

“I love you too. I didn’t think you felt the same way, I didn’t want to tell you and ruin our friendship” You whispered as he pulled you back into his lap and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head. “Wait, Phoenix spoke to you?”

“Yeah.” He laughed “She didn’t really talk to me, more like yelled at me in the middle of the bar.”

“Oh my god” You burst into a fit of giggles, silently thanking Phoenix.

“So…How about I take you out tomorrow night hm?” Bradley said tilting your chin up to look at him, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I’d like that.” You hummed, grinding your clothed core over the growing tent in his jeans.

“K sweetheart. I love you.” He moaned, picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@aistash

@minichrismd

@ishipdabands

@ishipit1420

@roosterscockpit

@roosterforme

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #tgm #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fluff #rooster imagine #tgm smut #rooster smut #top gun smut #bradley bradshaw smut #smut #tgm fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster angst #tgm angst #top gun angst #bradley bradshaw angst #angst #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic writing #fic writing #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradsaw x reader

[seresinsbabe]

Hi Ash!! Congrats on the 1K!!! For the celebration, could I get a blurb with Jake with the angst prompt “Am I the reason you cry every night?” and the fluff prompt "i've loved you since the moment i first laid my eyes on you." (Jake says both of these), pretty please? Thanks!!!

Thank you thank you!!!! you've been one of my biggest supporters and I am truly so thankful for you!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni! nothing bad, just angst, tears and fluff

Ash's 1K Follower Celebration

This was the last thing he wanted. In fact he had never wanted this. Seeing tears well up in your eyes until they fell in fat drops down your cheeks had his heart in a vice grip.

He knew those tears were his fault. However he'd never thought that he'd hurt you this bad.

"I'm the reason you cry every night?"

Hearing the words repeated to you made you feel even worse. It was so stupid to be this upset over him. Jake had made you feel like you were on top of the world. Like you were the only girl that mattered and then he would shatter the façade. Just when you thought he'd finally give in to what you thought he'd been feeling. Or at least the feelings he'd been leading you on to believe he had it would all come crashing down. Jake would have some pretty girl, the opposite of everything you were, on his arm. And your heart would break a little bit more.

That wasn't what Jake thought he was doing.

In his mind you were too good for him. That you would never slum it with a cocky asshole like him. Even if he was pretty he didn't feel he deserved you.

All those girls were his way of trying to get over you. It never worked - because they weren't you.

Never had he thought that he was hurting you. You swallowed hard and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the tears and will up the courage to finally speak.

"I shouldn't I know I just-" you took a deep breath to keep yourself calm. "Jake you make me so happy. Make me feel so good like we could be something and then you go and pull the rug out from under me when you walk in with those women. Women that I could never compete with." You felt like you sounded so pathetic. Pouring your heart out to this man who thought of you as nothing more than a friend.

Jake's came out to cup your cheek, pushing ever so slightly to get you to look at him. "Beautiful, I never wanted those women. They were my attempt at getting over you." It sounded like he meant it, but your brain couldn't wrap around the idea that Jake wanted you in that way.

Confusion warped your features.

"What?"

He chuckled softly. "I've loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you."

Disbelief combined with the confusion. Jake Seresin loved you? Jake Seresin has always loved you. "Then why..."

He shrugged. "I didn't think I deserved you. You're too good for me."

You frowned. How could you be too good for him? It should be the other way around.

"But it's true and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never shed another tear." His other hand cupped your face, his eyes searching yours.

Softly your head nodded and Jake's mouth formed a saccharine smile before they melded with yours. He pulled away as soon as he felt something wet hit his cheek.

"No, no more tears." The pad of his callused thumb swept along your cheek, wiping away the liquid.

You gave him another peck and pulled away, wiping your own tears this time. "It's okay, they're happy tears."

#ash hits 1k #seresinsbabe 1k celebration #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman angst #hangman fluff #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin angst #jake hangman seresin fluff #tgm fic #tgm angst #tgm fluff

[the-sun-and-the-sky]

“Kiss me” “What-”

Summary: What feelings surface when you get jealous? 

Pairing: Phoenix x f!reader (no use of y/n) 

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Jealousy, suggestive comments/thoughts, minor physical descriptions, no use of y/n, military inaccuracies, and zero, absolutely zero, beta reading 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a hot day. Much hotter than it had been in anyone’s recent memory. But if they had thought the heat would abide when the sun went down, they were in for a rude awakening.

You leaned against the railing of the Hard Deck, staring off into the distance at the crashing waves further down the beach. You sighed, imagining how nice the cool water would feel against your near-feverish skin. There was no breeze to speak of and you half-heartedly fanned yourself with your hand. A quickly warming glass of Jack and Coke sat near your elbow. 

Behind you, the usual sounds of the bar filled the air. Laughter, yells, and even cheering as some poor person unknowingly subjected themselves to buying a round for the entire crowd. You felt your lips twitch as you glanced over your shoulder to see who it was, but your gaze fell on someone else entirely.

You had only stepped out for a moment but in that time, the naval aviators you had become friends with over the past several weeks had shown up. A quick wave from the short brunette made you push away from the railing and step back into the stifling bar.

As you pushed past several nameless servicemen, your heart did a little flip-flop. Natasha Trace, more casually known as “Phoenix” among her fellow pilots, had caught your attention from the first moment you’d met her. Not only was she incredibly beautiful, but she possessed a lightning-quick wit and packed more comebacks than anyone you knew. How could you have avoided falling for her?

And it didn’t help that from the beginning, the two of you had fallen into a routine of effortless flirting that stayed surface level, never leading to anything more than covert glances and a few accidental brushes. But it was enough to quicken your heartbeat and send pleasant tingles all over your body.

“Hey,” Phoenix said, patting the empty seat next to her as you approached. “Saved you the best seat in the house.”

Quickly you sat down, your knees oddly shaky. You only hoped the blush you felt creeping up your neck wasn’t noticeable in the dimming light.

“You look pretty tonight.” Phoenix had to lean closer to be heard over the music and drunken cheering. 

You could feel her breath kiss the column of your neck and it was all you could do to sit still. To give your hands something to do, you smoothed the fabric of your sundress. Small yellow flowers stared up at you.

“How come this is the first time I’m seeing you in a dress?” Phoenix asked, her eyes tracing over the thin fabric that fell around your thighs.

You shrugged, trying to act casual but your slightly breathless voice gave you away. “Never had any reason to, I guess. Or anyone to dress up for.”

That, and the Southern California heat was murder.

Phoenix tilted her head slightly, her perfectly styled hair shining in the overhead lights. Her eyes continued to trace over your body and you willed your heart to not beat out of your chest despite its valiant effort to do just that.

Eventually, she spoke and her voice was almost a whisper. “If I had it my way, you would wear dresses all the time. That is when you’re not busy wearing nothing at all.”

A light gasp escaped your lips. Phoenix’s eyes sparkled and she grinned, clearly pleased by your reaction. Her eyes raked down your body again and you could feel the blush returning. The pilot had never said anything so blunt. It caught you off guard. 

Thankfully, a quick word from Hangman had Phoenix distracted long enough for your skin to cool and your mind to start working again. At first, you were grateful for the distraction but that quickly turned to annoyance when Hangman enlisted Phoenix’s help in a game of pool against two men you didn’t recognize. By their tan uniforms, you had to assume they were also Navy but you were sure you hadn’t seen them around before.

You let out an impatient sigh and contented yourself by glaring at the back of Hangman’s head. That man had the worst timing.

Your eyes slid to Phoenix who causally leaned against the pool table, her head thrown back, laughing at something one of the strangers had said. A tight knot bunched in your stomach. Tension tightened your limbs as you watched the other girl talk with the strangers. 

The game started and jabs were thrown but you couldn’t hear them over the den. Phoenix stood off to the side to let Hangman shoot. One of the strangers sidled up to her and struck up a conversation. The knot tightened. The slow seep of resentment crept into your bones, making you irritated. 

Just as Phoenix laughed at something the man said, something inside you snapped. Sure, nothing ever happened between the two of you, but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want something to happen. And if Hangman hadn’t interrupted earlier, it might have. Now this strange man was getting all of Phoenix’s attention.

It should have been you.

Annoyed at yourself for feeling this way and letting it get to you in the first place, you stood and quickly walked back outside. 

The sun had fully set, the last hints of color fading from the sky. A slight breeze had picked up, relieving an otherwise unbearable evening. In the distance, the sound of waves crashing against the sand reached your ears.

You took a deep breath of the salty air and closed your eyes. You tried to calm your mind and sort out your feelings with no luck.

It was undeniable. You had fallen for Phoenix at some point but you just couldn’t pinpoint when. Sometime between the stolen glances, the back-and-forth chatter, and the laughter. The pilot had wormed her way into your heart and was now breaking it, all without her knowing. 

You risked a glance over your shoulder to see if Phoenix was still with the stranger, but you couldn’t find either of them. They must have left. You probably should too, because you felt weirdly hollow inside.

You had just turned to walk back to your car when someone spoke.

“There you are.”

Phoenix materialized at your side and it was all you could do not to jump. As it was, you did take a couple of steps back. 

The easy grin on her face faltered and she reached out to wipe a tear from your cheek. You hadn’t noticed it had fallen.

“Is everything ok?” She asked, worry knitting her eyebrows together.

You nodded, not quite trusting your voice.

“Did something happen?” Concern was evident in her voice.

“No,” you whispered, barely finding your voice. “I’m just tired. I think I should head home.” 

“If this is about that guy,” Phoenix said, thrusting her thumb back at the pool tables. “He’s just a friend from basic I hadn’t seen in a while. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“It’s not that.”

Phoenix took a step forward. You barely registered that she was now in your space. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” she said, trying to meet your eyes but you were gazing off into the gathering darkness beyond the railing.

You heard Phoenix blow out a long breath. Her fingers drummed faintly against the material of her pants.

“Truth is, I like you a lot. And I’ve wanted to tell you for some time now, but I didn’t know how to. Plus, I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same way about me.”

In disbelief, you met Phoenix’s eyes. A shy smile graced her lips.

It wasn’t one-sided after all?

“Was that too much?” She asked, her smile slipping slightly. “I just thought-”

“Kiss me.”

“What-”

“Kiss me,” you repeated, your eyes never leaving hers.

Slowly, Phoenix brought her hands up to cradle your face. You nearly sighed feeling the light touch of her fingers. With one final step, she brought herself into your orbit completely. Her lips brushed yours ever so slightly and you could taste a hint of beer on them.

You settled your shaking hands on her waist and deepened the kiss. Glossed lips met chapped in a cautious dance of discovery. Somehow it was everything you’d imagined and more. Phoenix kissed like she flew, confident with a hint of recklessness.

Her hands threaded into your hair, pulling you closer. The skin where her fingers brushed, burned and you couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have her hands on other parts of your body. You shivered at the thought.

Eventually, the two of you pulled away to catch a breath. It was all you could do not to whine at the loss of her lips. You rested your foreheads against one another, panting slightly.

“That was-”

“Yeah,” Phoenix laughed breathlessly.

“Do it again.” 

She eagerly complied and it was a long time before either of you went back into the bar to join your friends. 

#tgm #tg #top gun phoenix #tg phoenix #natasha trace #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #natasha phoenix trace #phoenix x reader #phoenix x you #tgm fanfiction #phoenix imagine #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace x y/n #phoenix x y/n #tgm fic #tgm angst #natasha phoenix trace x reader

[lavenderbradshaw]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High

You think Ice loves you, until you don't. Tom "Iceman" Kazansky x Reader Alexa, play Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift...

Warnings: mentions of sex, affairs. She loves him more than he loves her.

“Make sure nobody sees you leave.”

You knew this routine already, he didn’t need to remind you. You scoffed as you pulled your hood up, hiding your hair under it. You knew this routine. Come over late at night after everyone is asleep, fuck, and then sneak back with your tail between your legs. You always wondered why he couldn’t do this, why you had to be the one to sneak back like an idiot. Never out loud, of course. You’d just pull up your hood, wink at him, and then slip out of the door. 

If anyone asks, you tell them you just went for a run. It’s early in the morning, so early that it would make sense. A quick jog before you have to get to work, flying all day. You’ll be too tired, too hot and sweaty to try and jog after. They buy it every single time. They have to, because the alternative explanation would be so unbelievable no one would dare utter it. 

There’s no way you’re fucking the instructor. 

But, here you are, sneaking out of his house on base to scurry back to your own. You don’t live that far, the base is too small to spread out housing too much. You do indeed jog home, sneakers hitting the ground, trying to ignore the feeling of him leaking out of you. You jump into a cold shower the second you get home, often finding yourself turning it to warm halfway through. Nothing can get your racing heart to calm down, nothing can stop the playback of technicolor explosions that stain your eyelids. You can’t forget him no matter what you do. 

There’s a perfume hidden on a shelf in your closet that you use on nights like this, when you’re going to meet him. Even if you’re wearing workout gear for your hidden run home, you wear it. Even if you’re going to sweat it off. Even if the smell of sex is going to overwhelm the scent of lavender. You’re not sure if it's this perfume or the promise of sex that makes you high, but you’re already buzzing when you sneak through his back door. He’s standing there, arms open, hugging you. You talk for a moment, just as the high is wearing off. 

“I need to tell you something,” he whispers, his lips pressing against your forehead. “Baby, I really need to tell you something.”

The sentence alone nearly sends you to your knees. There’s something about his tone, something about the way he can’t even look at you, let alone look you in the eyes, that clues you into what this is about. He’s going to end it, right here in the middle of his kitchen. Right after he opened his back door for you, right after he hugged you and tucked hair behind your ear and kissed you. Oh, God. It’s all over. 

You’re standing up before he can even breathe to continue, shaking your head. You aren’t sure if you’re going to throw up or pass out. There’s a heat spreading through your chest, up your neck, to your ears, but it’s not the usual rush of blood flow that comes with an orgasm. You’re scared, it’s complete and utter fear. There’s a pang in your chest, one that you think could stop your heart completely. 

Oh. Oh. 

“No,” you choke out, your voice breaking. “No, Tom, Jesus Christ…”

“We have to stop this, kid…”

“No!” you shout, pushing away from him. He reaches out for you again but you recoil, almost like he’s burning you. He stands, frozen, his arm extended. “No, Tom.”

“Kid…”

“Don’t call me that!” you scream, shaking your head. Later, you’ll think this was a dramatic move, but you’re on your knees before you can even blink. The tile digs into your bones, wearing away at the skin, leaving marks anyone will be able to see tomorrow. “Don’t call me kid!” 

You’re folding up, head down, hair falling around you. Sobbing, you realize. You’re sobbing on his kitchen floor. Look at this godforsaken mess that you made me. 

“I’m so sorry, k-baby. If I could… if I thought we could continue this I would, but…”

Everything seems dull now, the colors he’s shown you over the last several months fading as fast as his words come out. You feel cold now, the heat slipping from your body. Cold, you’re forever going to be cold. Ice made you cold. You’re scrambling off the kitchen floor before he can finish saying anything else, running all the way home. The hood is down, your hair is flying around you like crazy. You really were out for a run this time. 

Now you know why he wouldn’t have left his house for yours; why he wouldn’t purchase a whole new cologne for you. It makes sense why you were the one to pull your hood up, and why you were the one to go for early morning runs after vigorous nights. 

It makes even more sense when his promotion is announced a week later. You weren’t worth the risk. You weren’t anything more than sex. You were a distraction, a toy, a secret, to someone you had kept like an oath. 

What a godforsaken mess he made you.

#top gun fanfiction #top gun #iceman fic #iceman x reader #iceman x y/n #iceman x you #tom kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #top gun iceman #top gun blurb #iceman kazansky #iceman blurb #tgm #tgm angst #iceman angst

[bradshawsweetheart]

bradshawsweetheart’s masterlist

Welcome to my Top Gun: Maverick brainrot. I currently write for Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, and Robert “Bob” Floyd!

Requests are closed while I work on my current WIPs

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[az-cain]

I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry. I’m Sorry.

Jake Seresin ≈ 800 words

This is based entirely on my experiences with PTSD, which is from CSA not war or grief. My apologies if it’s inaccurate to your experiences, but please do not invalidate my own.

TW FOR: First person descriptions of PTSD, descriptions of dead bodies, delusion related to PTSD, self-hatred, alcoholism as a coping mechanism, denial of PTSD/mental illness

@tgm-all4one

Fire. The world’s engulfed in fire. Stench. The world smells like your burning flesh, scorching metal and glass. The oil of the F-14 burns on top of the water, the blue water turning black. The fuselage is floating, bodies glaring in the afternoon light. Your brown eyes stare at the sky, Captain Mitchell’s eyes obscured by bloody water.

Tears. I feel hot tears streak down my face as I hover in the rescue heli. They’re striking my visor. I can’t see. Stop crying. Stop crying. Men don’t cry. Stop crying. It’s part of the job. Stop crying.

Echoes. The echoes of Bradshaw’s words fill my ears. The only place you're going to lead anyone is an early grave; the only place you're going to lead anyone is an early grave; the only place—

The bed’s so cold. I should be used to waking up like this, but I’m not. The sheets are wet with my sweat, so I’ll dry my eyes and rise stiffly from the bed, stripping the sheets and walking to the laundry room.

—

It’s consuming me. Maybe Bradshaw’s killed himself. Maybe I wasn’t able to save him. Not in any way that mattered.

No. He’s alive.

But what if he isn’t?

He’s fine.

No he isn’t.

He’s dead.

Fuck, he’s dead.

Fuck, tears are running down my face. I’m sorry, Bradshaw. I wanted to save you.

I know you’re hurting too. I know you wish you’d died back then. You’d be with your family. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.

Fuck, my phone is in my hand. His number is pulled up and ringing.

Fuck, he picked up.

“Hey.”

Oh. He’s alive. Don’t say anything. Maybe he’ll think it was a butt dial. God, I wanna say something.

“Hangman?”

“Don’t call me that.” Shit. I don’t wanna be Hangman. I’m Jake, let me be Jake. Let me be Jake.

“Oh. Okay. Seresin. What’s up?”

I was convinced you’d killed yourself. I don’t know if I made the right choice saving you. It got me disciplined. No, that’s not why. Fuck. It was worth it, but do you think so? Do you want to live?

“I’m just checking in on you. Difficult day today, anniversary and all, you know?”

“Yeah.” You swallow so loudly. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stress you out. “It’s definitely been that. And you? Was it hard for you?”

God yes. It was so hard. I haven’t stopped crying all day. My throat hurts. My eyes hurt. My heart hurts.

“Not too bad. I wasn’t the one who almost died, I was mostly just concerned for you.”

“Oh. Well yeah, but you took someone else’s life that day. I’d get it if you were a little stressed.”

Yeah. I did. My second person I’ve murdered. That pilot had a family. Neither of you did. Maybe they should have lived. You two could have died and not been missed so dearly. But I would have missed you. God, I’m so selfish. I’m sorry.

“I’m alright. Just making sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, Seresin. I’ll make it.”

“Good. Have a good night, Bradshaw.”

“You, too.”

—

This stupid fucking bottle is empty. I didn’t drink it all. I took a glass last night. I know this is a problem. My throat hurts. All the lights are on in the house. I’m scared of the dark again. I can see everything so clearly. My eyes hurt. Fuck. I can't see anything.

I need to vomit. I can't walk. The bathroom is so far away. Oh. I have a trash can. It’s closer. I stumble towards it, falling onto my knees with a groan. Dammit. I’m so useless. Why am I still sobbing? I’m good for nothing, a sissy. They all made it out, you fucking moron. Everyone’s fine but you. Come on. Come on. Come on.

I hurl into the trash can. It tastes really bad. Like stomach acid and whiskey, because that’s pretty much all that’s in it. I think I should lay down. So I will. I’ll lay down right here and sleep.

—

The sun hurts my eyes. The kitchen window is letting too much light in. I wonder what time it is. Usually the light doesn’t come through this window until about noon. I’m trying to cover my eyes, but they still hurt as I look at the clock. 1300. It’s late. I had a date this morning.

Too bad, I guess. Good for nothing.

I should call her. Apologize. Or maybe the military therapist. Apologize. Nah. I’ll be fine. I’ll deal with it on my own.

At least there were no nightmares tonight.

#tgm-all4one #tgmall4one #hurt no comfort #hurt/no comfort #angst #ptsd #tgm #top gun maverick #hangman #Jake hangman seresin #Jake seresin #hangman angst #Jake hangman seresin angst #jake seresin angst #tgm angst #top gun maverick angst #top gun maverick fanfiction

[green-ville]

The Story of Icarus (5)

          Synopsis: All cards on the table. Maverick now knows why she has to fly this mission, but will allowing her to go jeopardize it? Will he have just signed her death warrant?

______

Chapter 5: The Missions

             She hadn’t made the cut.

           The words repeated in her head again and again and again.  

           Phoenix and Bob.

           Fanboy and Payback.

           Rooster.

           Maverick.

           Phoenix and Bob.

           Fanboy and Payback.

           Rooster.

           Maverick.

           Everyone else was gearing up. Kara stayed behind. Captain Mitchell walked over to her, sensing her distress. Seeing it easily, because she hadn’t moved a muscle since her name wasn’t called.

           “I’m sorry, Maro. But I can’t be the reason one of you dies.”

           “I. . .”

           “Maybe if we had that extra week, you would have been able to work through whatever you need to work through, but the timeline was pushed up. I can’t, in good conscience, send you off.”

           No. She had been flying better. She beat the course, so what if she was off by a few seconds? In real life she can do it better! She’d be better! She needed to fly this mission!

           Maverick shook his head, genuinely apologetic. He turned to leave, and the shock wore off enough for her to get a sentence out.

           “Who did you lose, sir? If you don’t mind me asking.”

           He stopped, paused, and faced her again. He swallowed and nodded. “My WSO. A great man named Goose.”

           “Rooster’s dad?”

           The two words together provoked a soft wince, old wounds that never fully healed. He answered her honestly anyway. “Yes.”

           Kara smiled, humorless, broken. “I’m going to lose my mom if I don’t fly this mission.”

           Maverick’s gaze locked on her. The brown was focused, twice as serious now.

           “She’s over there, an agent in the field, and needs extraction but they can’t get her out. She’s how we got all the information on the uranium site. Once it’s blown up, security will triple and it’ll be too hard to try and get her out. They won’t send anyone to try and remove her. It’s either pull her out on this mission,” her lower lip shook, words choking on their way out. Her final sentence was barely audible. “Or not at all.”

           “And what about your teammates, Icarus? This mission will be hard enough getting in and getting out, but getting in, making a pit stop, and getting out?”

           “I will make sure they’re in the clear before I break away sir.”

           “Which puts you in even more danger.”

           “I know the risks, sir. I’ve been thinking things through since day one.”

           And he had been saying it too, a mission they might not all come back from. For Icarus, she knew the risks, and she still had to try. Even if it was sabotaged from the start, she couldn’t not try.

           Maverick sighed, internally torn apart, struggling to conceal the turmoil. He hung his head, shaking it. “You’ve put me in a spot, Lieutenant Commander.”

           “I will come back, sir.”

           “You can never be certain.”

           “Every mission I’ve ever gone on, I have come back.” An obvious fact. “And that was without someone to come back to. That was going out, not truly caring about myself, but needing to go out anyway because there was someone that needed help. And I took a lot of hits, selfishly hoping that one of them would be the one to finish it, but it never did. I have someone to come back to now, so I promise you, sir. I promise, that even if my plane gets blown up, I will come back. Even if I get shot, I will come back. Nothing will stop me from coming back. . .Or ensuring the survival of my teammates.”

           His smile was small, sad, but true. “You certainly know how to give a speech, Lieutenant Commander.”

           “I know. . .I know I’m asking a lot of you. To trust me when my behavior has been so erratic – “

           Rooster cut her off. “I trust you, Icarus.”

           Phoenix nodded beside him. “I know you’ll do what’s right Maro. If you can make Bagman a better person, I already classify you as a miracle worker.”

           Bob shrugged. “I trust Nat’s judgment.”

           Fanboy and Payback remained quiet, studying her for another minute before they shared a look. Then a nod. “I can’t say that I like this plan, but I trust Maverick. And I trust Rooster and Phoenix,” Payback said. “If they fly behind you, so will I.”

           “Just maybe drink a bottle of water first, because I don’t want to carry you to a medic a second time,” Fanboy joked.

           Kara smiled. “I’ll drink some water. And thank you for that, I appreciated it.”

           “I’d say anytime, but that seems ill-phrased.”

           She nodded, clapping her hands together, exhaling. “Alright then aviators. You know what to do. You know that, no matter what happens, you keep flying.”

           They grew uncomfortable again, the same way they were when she first told them the plan. Rooster nodded first, and then they all followed suit.

           “Are we ready, then?”

           A chorus of “yes ma’am’s,” and they all parted ways, heading to their respective jets. Kara successively managed to turn around before she was stopped. Despite the worry on his face, she saw him and smiled, worry stripping away.

           “I’ll come back,” she promised, going straight for a hug. He didn’t hesitate to hold her back, squeezing her closer, kissing the top of her head.

           “You better,” he warned. “My grandparents will already be upset with me for being married, but being married and widowed and having never met you, they might not let me back on the farm.”

           She pulled back, smiling up at him. “I won’t let you get widowed. You’re stuck with me now.”

           He bent down, pecking her softly on the lips.

           “Come back,” he said, and she smiled, cupping his cheek.

           “I’ll see you soon, Seresin.”

           He rolled his eyes, watching her slip away. “You better, Seresin.”

           From not too far away, Natasha Trace gagged loudly, then pretended to hurl over the edge of her jet.

           Jake rolled his eyes. “Shut up Trace, I know you and Rooster have that weird thing going on.”

           Bob made a face. “You and Rooster – !”

           “NO!”

 _

           “Dagger 1, up and ready on catapult 1.”

           Her heart rate slowed down, her senses tuning themselves to the situation.

           Her teammates readied themselves, smoke swirling around her jet as she waited. She only half listened in, plan sweeping through her head one final time.

           Everyone was going to make it back. She had made amends with Jake. She was going to get back.

           “Dagger Spare, standby.” Jake on standby.

           “Dagger 4, up and ready.” Payback and Fanboy, ready for takeoff.

           Phoenix voiced next, calm and steady. “Dagger 3, up and ready.”  

            “Dagger 2, up and ready.” Rooster, who would take over for her once she left.

           They knew the plan. They knew what would happen. There wouldn’t be any surprises.

           6 were leaving for this mission, 7 would return.

           “Standby for launch decision,” a monotonous woman from the control tower spoke.

           Her hand rested on the yoke, the throttle.

           6 were leaving. Right now she flew with an empty back seat. When she returned, that seat would be filled.

           “Launch them,” Cyclone’s voice sounded, and at his command, she led the charge.

           Testing all her flaps one last time, setting her propulsion damn near to the max, Icarus signaled to the ground, and then she was launched. She shot forward, searing across the short landing strip, and when she breached the edge, there was a quick dip down, gravity taking hold and dropping her stomach with it. She breathed through it and began to ascend.

           High above the clouds, she waited for her teammates to get in position. Seeing them on her radar, she spoke into her mask.

           “Dagger 1 for standby check in.”

            “Picture clean, recommend dagger continue.”

           “Copy, daggers descending below radar,” Icarus responded, pushing down on the yoke and leading the descent. The clouds blurred their field of vision momentarily, but she couldn’t allow the obstruction to raise her anxiety. She was at the therapeutic level of having a sharper focus, high energy levels, and an eerie sense of calm.

           “Daggers now below radar.”

           The ocean ghosted below them, the horizon showing their future. The snow topped landscape. The mountain that stood so far away, but with the speed they were going, it would be less than three minutes for them to meet.

           “Here we go,” Icarus said. “Enemy territory up ahead. Picture clean?”

           The monotonous woman confirmed. “Picture clean. Decision is yours.”

           There was never an option for turning back. Not in her books.

           “Dagger attack.”

           “Tomahawks airborne.”

           “No turning back now.”

           No turning back indeed, as the tomahawks were already flying overhead. Less than a hundred feet above them, and heading straight for enemy territory.

           Icarus nodded. “Daggers, attack formation.”

           She glanced behind once, to confirm they were all set. Dagger 3 to her immediate back. Dagger 2 behind. Dagger 4 carrying up the rear.

           “Daggers set. Proceeding to target. 2 minutes and 30 seconds in 3.” A breath. She could see trees. “2.” Her muscles relaxed. “1 mark.” She was over ground, and her timer started down.

           “2 mark.”

           “3 mark.”

           “4 mark.”

           They were in the danger zone now.

           It was different than how they practiced. Physically, similar. Each turn was like her skeleton was being compressed. The air struggled to come in. The sweat drenched her. Her eyes had to scan everything at once but now there were objects actually on the hills for them to locate.

           Different in the sense of they could get shot at any time.

           “SAM 1, high up, 3 o’clock.”

           “SAM 2, left side, 11 o’clock.”

           And she worried. Her arms chilled even though she was sweating right now. Fear ran through her because these people trusted her. Trusted her like Jake had on their first mission. And they knew the plan, she had told them she’d be leaving, but that didn’t calm her raising heart rate, or unknot her twisted stomach.

           This mission felt wrong now, but it was too late.

           Controls alerted them of 2 bogeys in the distance. She spotted them, flying high, standard patrol. They weren’t seen yet.  

           “They haven’t seen us yet. Proceed as planned.”

           Even still, she pushed that throttle down more. Speeding forward, weaving through the hills, spotting all the SAMS that would be on their asses in less than three minutes. A party for later. A bridge popped up, and she flipped again, blowing through it and letting out a shaky laugh as she passed.

           “Phoenix, mind your head.”

           “Minding it,” she copied back, following the maneuver to pass through the tall, narrow arches of a bridge.

           “Rooster,” Payback said, “we’re behind schedule. Pick it up man.”

           Damn. Behind? She had been so worried about her own situation that she didn’t once think about Rooster! Damn damn damn! She had to get him back in real life, out of his head.

           “Dagger 2, how we doing?” Icarus asked.

           Rooster didn’t respond.

           “Dagger 1, the runway is gone. Bogeys are veering away.”

           They were in the final stretch. Six more seconds and they’d be climbing the mountain. And Rooster was behind.

           “Rooster come on man, I can’t do this without you,” she said, the mountain right in front of her. Large, dominating, terrifying.

           Blow up the site. Get them back to water. Get her mom. Return home and never fly another mission. She just had to get back home and that was it.

           Rooster didn’t respond.

           “C’mon dad, talk to me.” A quiet, almost nonexistent whisper. Not meant for anyone else, but they had an active line, so of course she heard it.

           And Icarus had never met his dad before, didn’t know a thing about him other than he was Maverick’s WSO, and he died. Rooster thought he never made him proud.

           “Make him proud Rooster,” Icarus said. “Make your dad proud.”

           That was all she could say.

And she began the ascent.

           Her muscles bulged. She kept breathing, forceful exhales and tingling inhales. Black spots threatened to blind her. She blew her eyes open, fighting against passing out. Snow blew behind her, likely blinding Phoenix the rest of the way.

           “Woah Rooster! Not that quick buddy!” Payback exclaimed, and as she inverted, blood rushing to her head, there was a grin on her face.

           He was doing it.

           “Bob, eyes on target, eyes on target!”

           “Dagger 3, standby Icarus, standby . . .Got it!”

           The alarm rang in her ears. She had a locked target. “Target acquired, bombs away,” she addressed, and let them fly.

           Then she pulled back, breaking the sharp descent for a mind melting ascent. She kept her head forward, forcing her eyes open, forcing breaths inside her because if she held her breath now, she’d pass out for sure and she was coming home. There’d be no one stopping her from coming home.

           “We have impact! We have a direct hit!” Bob exclaimed. He sounded insultingly surprised.

           “Dagger 2, status!” She shouted this, fighting the wave of fatigue.

           “Almost there Icarus, almost there!

           “Fanboy, where’s my laser?!”

           “Rooster there’s something wrong with the laser, shit! Dead eye dead eye dead eye!”

           “C’mon guys, we’re running out of time.”

           “I’m trying I’m trying I’m trying!”

           “No good, I’m firing blind.”

           “Rooster wait!”

           “Bombs away bombs away!”

           She broke through the mountain’s protection. The SAMS locked on her. A second later, the SAMS spotted Dagger 3.

           “Smoke in the air!”

           “Bullseye bullseye bullseye!”

           Icarus looked back, and saw the cloud of smoke washing up from the ground. They had done it! Rooster fucking got it!

           And now they were targets.

           “Phoenix, on your 6!”

           “Dagger 3 deploying flares – “

           Bob cut in, “4 o clock Icarus, 4 o clock!”

           Icarus broke away, “dagger 1 defending!”

Daggers 2 and 4 joined the fight, bursting from the mountains cover. They shot into the cloudy sky, her eyes tracking them for a split second just to count that there were two planes, and she was back on surveillance.

           Six voices talking all at once and every voice being heard. Flashes of red and balls of fire lighting up the sky.

           “Deploying counter measures! Negative contact.”

           “Payback, SAM on your nose.”

           “Dagger 4 defending.”

           “HERE COMES ANOTHER ONE!”

           “Dagger 3 defending!”

           Unanimously, as a team, they were all heading away from the mountain top. She didn’t have to say it, and they had never practiced together before, but they were all doing it. They all knew what to do. Not only did they have each other’s backs, but they were making progress to safety too.

           More SAMS shot at them, none of them diving low enough to evade their reach. Icarus lead the charge forward, shouting whenever she saw anything.

           “Smoke in the air, smoke in the air!”

           “Break right Dagger 4!”

           “Dagger 4 defending!”

           “Phoenix, two more on your 6!”

           “Talk to me Bob!”

           “Break right, break right!”

           “Dagger 2 smoke in the air!”

           “Dagger 2 defending!”

           Icarus glanced back, steering straight, seeing the missiles in the air.

           A second later, her heart dropped.

           “Shit, I’m out of flares!”

           She lied. She lied to Maverick. She promised she’d get them home and Rooster was a target right now.

           “ROOSTER EVADE EVADE!”

           “I can’t shake em! They’re on me!”

           She lied to Maverick. She lied to Jake. Her commanding officers were right in giving her the name Icarus. She had agreed to a mission she wouldn’t return home from.

           “I’m sorry Jake,” Icarus whispered, tone steel. Unwavering. Depleted. Her right hand shoved the gear forward. She left it, double handling the yoke, and she yanked with all her might back.

           The tip of her jet faced the sun, blinding her.

           Flying too close to the sun.

           “I’m so sorry,” she finished, accepting her fate, and slammed her fist against the flares, blinking back stars.

           Rooster passed beneath.

           Her flares deployed, catching one of the missiles.

           Another caught her.

           “ICARUS NO!”

           “Dagger 1 is hit! I repeat, Dagger 1 is hit! Icarus is down!”

           “Does anyone see her? Does anyone see a chute?!”

           “Dagger 1 come in!”

           “I didn’t see a parachute!”

           “We have to circle back!”

           “Comanche bandits inbound. Single group hot. Recommend dagger flow south. One minute to intercept.”

           “Dagger team return to carrier.”

           “What about Icarus?!”

           “She knew the risks.”

           “Dagger spare requesting permission to launch aircraft!”

           “Negative spare.”

           “Dagger, you are not to engage. Repeat, you are not to engage. Acknowledge. Repeat, acknowledge.”

           “Rooster, you can’t go back. Bandits are closing in.”

           “She’s gone, Rooster. She’s gone.”

                       Her body seized up, muscles taught, and then the pain flared through her entire body. Her heart raced, pounding, trying to burst free, and then she was moving without processing.

           Kara dangled fifteen feet off the ground, parachute caught in a tree. Her leg ached up a storm, her head was warm, but she was alive. Alive, and unbuckling herself, and then she was dropping onto the ground. She choked on air, chortling, spiraling –

           Poof!

           Snow softened the blow, but not by much, and then she realized how badly her leg was fucked up.

           Red blotted down into the perfect white, and she propped herself on her elbows, body hot as she looked down to her leg.

           “Not good,” Kara whispered, cheeks red, forehead red. “Not good.”

           Field first aid was based off of ‘use what you have’. Specifically with her line of work, Kara had much experience with this. Her leg was broken, an idiot could figure that out. On top of that, there was something sticking in her leg. She couldn’t really identify it because the only time she looked at it, a wave of nausea fell over her and she almost passed out. She couldn’t be doing that right now.

           Her muscle twitched and pain shot all the way up her back. There was no way she could put pressure on it, let alone an ounce of her weight. Kara had a retractable metal staff that would help her walk, so there was that. And she had a medical kit.

           First things first; stop the bleeding. Above the area where she was impaled, she used her belt as a tourniquet, restricting the blood flow to her leg. She wouldn’t be able to keep that on forever, but for now, she needed to slow the blood down. Tightening it in place, she bit into a strap of leather to stop her scream from alerting everyone of her location.

           Her eyes burned with tears. Next, Kara attempted to stabilize her leg with a bunch of wrap around bandages and nearby twigs.  It was perhaps the shittiest brace in the existence of braces, but she was alive, so she wasn’t complaining.

           Her next goal was to stand, but she never got to attempt that. The sound of a chopper nearby brought back her fight or flight response.        

           She heard it first, spotted it second. Off in the distance, camouflaged into the white and grey world, a chopper. A chopper coming straight for her.

           Kara jammed the extended staff into the ground and shouted her pain, standing up. Using the staff as her leg, she hobbled/ran for cover, fighting off passing out as every jagged movement burned in her leg. It felt wet, was she still bleeding? She didn’t have time to think about it because she was being shot at!

           The spray of dust brushed her, and Kara shouted again, throwing herself behind a fallen tree, hitting the ground hard, and rolling for full cover.

           The world was black for a second. She grabbed snow, pressed it to her neck, tried to force herself to fight off falling to sleep.

           She had to stay awake.

           Had to keep going.

           The helicopter swept around, and she rolled onto her stomach, staring it dead on. Mouth parted, chest caving, she heard the familiar whirling of the bullets starting up –

           And she watched a missile crash into the side of the helicopter, blowing it up. The warmth reached her face, and she spotted the fighter jet a second later. Saw it curve in the air, flying too high, a SAM locked onto it and deploy, deploy!

           The pilot didn’t deploy.

           He was out.

           That stupid idiot was out!

           Rooster took a hit, jet blowing into irreparable pieces, but she saw his chute in the air.

           Alive, at least, she hoped.

#tgm #jake seresin #tgm angst #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #natasha trace #bradley bradshaw #phoenix #rooster #fanboy #payback #pete mitchell #maverick

[averagewriter-inthedark]

24 hours after reading bigger than the whole sky 😃 and i was just playing shit and listening to music when god decided to put bttws by tswift on and i just felt my heart shatter a bit 🙂💔

Oh goodness 🥹 my heart goes out to you. I was actually listening to it this morning and was like “why do I do this to myself 😫” cause it made me think of another angsty/no happy ending idea for TGM (I did actually think of making an alternate version of Cloud surviving and waking up to discover Atlas and the baby died but I damn well know I wouldn’t handle it)

#top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm #TGM angst

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Can u please do smut or fluff of this with rooster or hangman:

Y/n: hey can you zip me up?

R or H: Sure!

...

Y/n: I said zip me up not down

Ooh thank you for this sweet request, I had so much fun with this one!!

The Zipper Incident

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

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

CW: Fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut. You stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it's probably worth it.

I’d like to think that this little drabble could be a prelude to this fic but it’s absolutely not a necessity to read it first. I just had this particular dynamic in mind while writing this.

You rush out of the locker room in a panic, whipping your head around to see if anyone is still around. Your date is imminent – t-minus twenty minutes and counting – and you’ve spent the last forty-five on your hair and makeup only to suffer a devastating wardrobe malfunction at zero hour.

You’re sure that everyone is long gone but you nonetheless shuffle over to the guys’ locker room on the off chance that perhaps somebody might still be in the building.

Just as you’re coming up on the door, Bradley walks out and you nearly collide with him in your haste.

“Woah!” he yells, holding his arms out in case you wouldn’t be able to stop in time.

“Oh my god, Rooster! Thank god!” you shriek.

Now that he’s had a moment to process the situation, Bradley is blinking at you oddly, his eyes slipping briefly to glance at your dress before reverting to your face.

While you’re flattered that your outfit has rendered him speechless – the guy’s never seen you in anything but a uniform – you hardly have time for this kind of delay. “Rooster, can you do me a favor, please? Can you zip me up?” You turn your back to him promptly and twist your arm behind you to point to the zipper that’s gotten stuck halfway up.

“Uh.” Bradley stalls and you look over your shoulder to see his gaze trailing down your bare back as he tentatively lifts his hands.

“Bradshaw, today!” you urge, bouncing slightly on the spot while you hold up the front of your strapless dress.

You feel his fingers graze your back as he pulls gently on the zipper. “It’s jammed,” he says a little hoarsely.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “No shit,” you reply. “Look, I’ve got a date in” – you close your eyes and whimper desperately – “fifteen minutes. Could you maybe put those big, strong muscles to good use?” You throw him a deriding look before glancing pointedly at the arm that's taking up approximately half of your field of view. His bicep is even more pronounced than usual in the tight, black t-shirt he’s wearing.

Rooster exhales slowly, tugging more deliberately on the zipper. “I don’t want to break it,” he says.

This statement gives you pause and you spin around sharply, nearly taking Bradley’s hands with you. “You can’t break it!” you exclaim. “I have nothing else to wear!”

Bradley watches you steadily. “Well,” he says with a small smirk. “Don’t rush me, then.”

You eye him warily before turning back around. “Okay,” you say. “But you don’t have all day,” you mutter when he starts to fiddle with the zipper once more.

His hands stop moving and he clears his throat. “We had a deal.”

You sigh, starting to tap your foot, when your feel his hands close around your shoulders.

“You’re wiggling,” he says.

“I’m anxious,” you retort sourly.

Bradley steps closer until his chest is brushing lightly against your back, and leads you out into the center of the corridor. “I need more light,” he says.

You close your eyes. “It’s a fucking zipper, Bradshaw. You operate a fifteen tonne, seventy-million-dollar government vehicle fifty thousand feet off the ground but this is somehow a struggle?”

Bradley’s hands stop moving. “That fifteen tonne vehicle came with an instruction manual and five years of training.”

“Oh, hang on,” you say. “Let me just pull out my zipper manual. I don’t go anywhere without that thing.”

Bradley snorts. “You’re distracting me,” he says, yanking slightly on the zipper and, in the process, pulling you closer.

You hang your head defeatedly, trying to stay still while he works to fix your dress.

After several moments of silence, Bradley speaks again. “You have a date, huh?”

You stare at the space where the floor meets the wall, taken aback by his question. You and Bradley have but a smidge of history; you met a few months ago when you were brought in for a mission together, and have since been assigned to the same squadron. You’ve flirted here and there, exchanged a few meaningful glances, but nothing more than the occasional tease has ever come to pass. You’re both professionals and, as such, are amply aware that any sort of romantic entanglement would quickly dissolve into a logistical nightmare fraught with more paperwork than either of you would care to complete. And yet, the insinuation in his tone, paired with the intermittent brush of his hands along your back sends a quiet thrill through your body, resulting in a soft blush that heats your cheeks and creeps down your neck. You nervously pat down your hair, making sure it obscures your reddening face before you respond with a casual, “Mm-hm.”

“Anyone I know?” he asks, his thumb sweeping over your shoulder blade as he takes a break from wrestling with the zipper.

Suddenly you’re extremely aware of how short your dress is and how very loosely it hangs around your sides as you clutch it to your chest. “I doubt it,” you say quickly, wondering how you hadn’t noticed the obvious draft coming from the vent overhead until right now while firmly pressing the material of your dress against your rapidly hardening nipples.

“Well, you look nice,” he says, his voice a little rough as he resumes his efforts with the zipper.

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to suppress the shiver triggered by his words. “Would be nicer if I were fully dressed,” you respond flatly.

“Debatable,” Rooster counters.

You swallow uneasily as Bradley continues jerking at your dress. He’s flirting with you now? Ten minutes till go time? After weeks of avoiding every instance of physical contact, including that time you sprained your ankle and he called Phoenix over to help you get to medical instead of taking you himself?

Suddenly, you feel the waist of your dress release as the zipper gives. You gasp, pressing the fabric against your body as it starts to glide.

“Bradshaw!” you yelp. “I said ‘zip me up!’”

“Sorry!” Bradley fumbles with the dress. “It slipped.”

“Sure,” you say with a note of cynicism in your tone.

Bradley chuckles, sliding the zipper back up. “I promise, it was unintentional.” He pauses for a moment, his fingers still holding the clasp even after having completed the task you’ve given him. He runs his palms along your shoulders before they come to rest on your upper arms. “You’ve got a nice back,” he says quietly.

You freeze, trying to come up with an adequate response to the most unexpected of compliments, but you can’t bring yourself to face him because you’re blushing anew. You take a second to gather your thoughts, close your eyes to savour the moment. You’ve completely forgotten about the time and how much of it you might have left because all your concentration is devoted entirely to the gentle sweep of Bradley’s fingers as they slide down your arms.

“First date?” he asks.

You’re furious. You’re livid. Where was all this attention four weeks ago when all that glorious flirting amounted to absolutely nothing. “Second,” you respond curtly.

“Getting serious,” he says wryly, his hands trailing all the way down to your fingertips before they finally fall to his sides.

You chuckle and, although it’s becoming increasingly difficult to restrain yourself from turning to face him, you mutter a quick, “Thanks, Rooster,” while smoothing out the wrinkles on the front of your dress.

Bradley walks around to take a look at you from the front and now you have no choice but to meet his gaze. You give him a tight smile and do a little curtsy and he laughs, shaking his head.

“That’s a hell of a dress,” he says.

You give him a serious look. “It’s not the dress, Bradshaw. It’s the model.”

He grins at you in amusement. “Can’t argue with that.”

You nod slowly, slightly lost in his eyes, when you suddenly remember that you’re running late. “Shit! What’s the time?” You lunge forward to grab his forearm so that you could check his wristwatch. “Fuck! I have to run!”

You drop Bradley’s hand, glancing up at him sharply. He’s watching you with a bewildered expression, as though he wasn’t expecting you to actually leave. “Okay,” he says. “Have a good time.”

You nod and start to draw back, finally turning and escaping down the hall and into the women’s changeroom. Once the door is closed behind you, you sink down on a bench, bringing a hand to your unsettled stomach. The interaction with Bradley has resulted in a revival of that ridiculous crush you had on him when you first arrived on base. You’ve been fairly successful at quashing those feelings, right up until ten minutes ago when Bradley was able to effectively resuscitate them with a vengeance.

You let out a frustrated sigh and start putting away your belongings. You step into your heels and sit back down to do up the straps. Walking over to the mirror, you fix your hair and take a moment to admire your makeup. No wonder Bradley was flabbergasted. He’s never even seen you wear lipstick.

You pick up your purse after shoving your backpack into a locker and head for the door but, when you walk out, Bradley is still there, waiting for you.

You waver on the spot upon seeing him while he hesitates slightly before approaching you. His eyes rake over your figure before finally resting on your face. “I can’t let you go on that date,” he says, his rasp more pronounced somehow, perhaps because he’s trying to keep his voice down.

You gulp nervously, blinking up at him as your cheeks flush. “Why not?” you ask quietly.

Bradley bites into his bottom lip as the corner of his mouth curls upward mischievously. “Because even thinking about you on a date with someone else is making me angry.”

You let out a shallow breath as his eyes focus briefly on your lips. “Why?” you whisper.

You feel Bradley’s hand cup your waist, pressing you gently into the wall at your back while he takes another step forward. He lowers his head and you lift your gaze as he towers over you, as he places the palm of his other hand on the wall behind your head. His breathing is heavier than usual but he comes closer still, caging you in. “Because it should be me,” he says hoarsely.

You lower your gaze but soon feel his fingers under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. “You didn’t ask me,” you manage to say despite the distracting pounding in your temples. “Are you only interested because I’m unavailable?”

Bradley slowly shakes his head, bringing his forehead to rest on yours. The hand that’s been leaning against the wall slips down to your shoulder as he takes another step closer and his body brushes yours. “You know that’s not true,” he says.

You put a hand on his abdomen, pushing him away half-heartedly. “I know that you’ve had plenty of opportunities to make this happen and chose not to.”

Bradley brings his hand down on top of yours on his stomach. “Maybe I was intimidated,” he mutters with a grin.

You roll your eyes. “Am I less intimidating in a dress?”

He shakes his head, his smile widening. “More.” His fingers close around yours, still pressed against his rock-hard abs. “But you left me no choice. I had to just bite the bullet and go for it.”

You glance up at him reproachfully. “I’m late,” you say.

Bradley pulls his lips into a frown as his eyebrows crease. “Stay,” he pleads.

You scoff, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Bradley,” you say. “You’re late too.” You start to peel your back from the wall, forcing him to back away from you.

He takes several steps backward, the disappointment evident on his face. “You don’t want to go,” he says quietly.

You raise your eyebrows. “How the fuck do you know what I want?” you ask, offended.

He watches you piercingly. “I can tell you want to stay.”

“If you can tell, then why didn’t you ask me out before?” you say angrily.

“Because I’m an idiot!” he responds heatedly.

“Well, at least we agree on that,” you say.

Bradley sucks in his cheeks, nodding contemptuously. “Now what?” he asks. “Ball’s in your court.”

You stare at him crossly. “Now nothing, Bradley,” you say. “You didn’t start anything because you knew that it would be a conflict of interest. That, if anybody found out, one of us would end up being reassigned.”

“Who has to find out?”

You close your eyes briefly before giving him a withering look. “Well, now we know where your head’s at.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just want to fuck,” you say matter-of-factly.

Bradley stares at you, speechless for a moment. “What are you talking about?”

“Sorry, Bradshaw,” you say. “That’s not my style.”

But when you turn to leave, Bradley springs after you, grabbing your arm and pulling you back around. “You’ve got it wrong,” he says. “I promise you.”

You eye his fingers, still wrapped firmly around your arm. “Come on, ‘Nobody has to know?’” You glance up at him disdainfully. “You obviously don’t see a future here.” You regret the words the moment they leave your mouth, recognizing how unreasonable it is to expect him to see much of anything with someone he hardly knows. But his words have caused quite a sting which, in turn, has made you slightly irrational. “You know this is a bad idea,” you say finally, reluctantly.

Bradley takes a step forward, simultaneously pulling you closer. He takes a moment to study your features before speaking. “I know that if you go on your date right now, I’m going to lose my fucking mind,” he says with a small chuckle.

You watch him carefully as he brings a hand up to brush some hair away from your eyes. “I’m really late,” you whisper, your hands moving of their own accord to rest on his hips.

Bradley brings his face down to meet yours, his nose brushing along your cheek. “I really want you to stay,” he says in a low voice, his grip loosening on your arm and his fingers gliding gently up to your shoulder.

You lift your face slightly to let him brush his lips with yours. After an excruciating pause during which his mouth hovers tantalisingly over yours, Bradley finally bridges the gap, confidently capturing your lips in his. His fingertips dig into your shoulders as he presses his body against yours, directing you backward into the wall. He leans into you eagerly, his kiss overriding each of your senses as you adapt to its unpredictable rhythm. Slow and deep, then soft and sweeping, evolving with your every movement. His hands twist rabidly into your hair, rough but restrained as he paces himself while you breathe unevenly against his mouth.

He's warm; swathed around you almost possessively; protectively. You aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. You pant when he finally releases your lips, struggling to steady your heartrate.

Bradley lowers himself slightly to diffuse kisses along your jawline, the pressure of his lips on your skin quickly escalating as the two of you sink into one another. You open your mouth to sigh against his ear when his hand slips underneath the hem of your dress. “Bradley,” you whine as his finger drifts along the line of your panties.

“Yeah baby?” he breathes, his finger tracing circles into the already saturated lace.

“This is a terrible idea,” you whimper as the most torturous desire pulsates through your body.

“Yeah, baby,” Bradley agrees, continuing the gentle strokes of his finger over your soaking panties.

You bite your lip trying to suppress a moan, fevered and nearly shaking, sweating and breathless, unsteady in your heels. You feel transported but unsettled, euphoric but wanting. You nip at Bradley’s earlobe in response to which Bradley presses his mouth into the crook of your neck and releases a muffled groan. You continue sucking on his ear and kissing his neck and the hand that’s been hovering between your legs suddenly grips into your thigh. You let out a soft cry and Bradley stifles it with a passionate kiss. His hand coasts upward, cupping your ass cheek as he presses himself against you, pinning you to the wall. “Bradshaw,” you murmur against his lips. “Can you do me a favor?”

Bradley’s teeth catch your bottom lip before he starts gently pecking your swollen lips. “Anything,” he responds in his grating rasp.

You let out a shallow breath. “Can you unzip me?”

Bradley’s mouth curls into a smile against your lips as his hand glides down your back. “I’ve got you, baby,” he says softly, pulling on the zipper. “I’m an expert.” You chuckle as your dress comes loose but, a moment later, Bradley mutters, “Fuck,” right into your open mouth.

You pull back to stare at him mutely as he gives the zipper a few more tugs. “Don’t tell me,” you say in disbelief.

“What is it with this thing?” Bradley says in exasperation, spinning you around to inspect the contraption. You giggle, resting your forehead on the wall resignedly but, the next moment, Bradley grabs you by the waist and pulls you in. “Fuck it,” he says, lifting the skirt of your dress. “I can work around it.”

Rooster Tag List:

Please feel free to let me know if you no longer wish to be tagged in Rooster fics/if you no longer consume Rooster content <3 The rest of the tags are in the comments!

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

@lonelywitchv2

@cashwheelersgirl89

@callsign-jupiter

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@everything-i-love-in-life

@malindacath

@rosiahills22

@wandering-wah

@olliepig

@m1llydins

@emilyniamh3679-blog

@footwatter

@books-for-summer

@harper1666

@coffeeaddictedmay

@diabeticgoth

@katiebby04

@problematic-420

@wishfulhope

@elizabitchsshit

@inarabee

@boringusername3

@zombiedixon89

@izz-ayes-world

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@sunnysofia

@a-nostalgic-disaster

@aaliyahjovel

@anyonehaveanyorangeslices

@bcon24

@lovemesomevesey

@daydreamingalways

@gerudolivinliv

@emilybradshaw

@olivethenerd16

@kaitlynw011

@l-rexter45

@xoxo-lyss

@beebslebobs

@dracosluvbot

@peoniarose

@annedub

#top gun #rooster #bradley bradshaw #rooster fluff #miles teller #rooster x you #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun rooster #top gun maverick #tgm #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster fanfic #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw angst

[thewulf]

Lost and Found || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if I could request a Jake x Reader. I was thinking a good friends situation where they were both interested in the other but didn’t want to mess up their friend group dynamic and so they never said anything. And of course they were each oblivious to the fact they were into each other,.. Read Rest Here

A/N: Ahhh sorry anon, this took forever to write as I was feeling uninspired. Turns out I just needed to watch TGM and whew! I forgot how much I love Jake Seresin and the TGM crew :) Hope you guys enjoy!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.2k +

T/W : Angsty in the beginning

The air in Virginia was thick with the scent of saltwater and fresh possibility when you first noticed the cocky Lieutenant who was making a beeline towards you. It was a humid afternoon on the naval base, and you, a newly hired trauma surgeon, were immersed in your work, lost in the world of medical charts and patient files. And just as you were about to get up, he walked in with a cocky grin and an air of self-assurance that demanded attention. You knew the type, he had to be a pilot. They just had the air about them.

"Hey there, beautiful," he greeted you with a wink, his voice carrying across the room with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. Yeah, he was a pilot. Only they had the reassurance to be so fearless on a first interaction.

You raised an eyebrow at his boldness, unimpressed but intrigued by his approach. "Can I help you with something?" you replied, your tone cool and collected. You knew how to deal with his type. Be dismissive. Ignore them and eventually they’ll get bored enough to leave you alone.

The blonde-haired man slid into the seat opposite you, his grin never faltering as he leaned in closer. "Just couldn't resist the chance to introduce myself to the most captivating woman on base," he said smoothly, his words dripping with charm.

A chuckle escaped your lips, though you tried to suppress it. That was a new one for sure. "Flattery will get you nowhere Lieutenant," you responded, a hint of amusement in your voice.

He grinned in response, undeterred by your playful resistance. His eyes flashed down to your chest which displayed your rank and last name. "Ah, but I'm not just trying to flatter you Lieutenant Commander. I genuinely want to know the name of the woman who's been keeping me up at night," he admitted, his tone sincere but laced with playful arrogance.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his persistence. "Well, in that case, I suppose you'll have to earn it," you teased, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. For whatever reason you were having fun with this interaction. It wasn’t often you would give these Navy boys much time but there was something about him. Something that had you setting down your charts to get a good look at him.

Jake leaned back in his chair, his expression turning thoughtful. "Fair enough," he conceded, his gaze locking with yours. "I'm Jake, by the way. And you are?"

You maintained a playful smile, keeping him guessing as you decided to reveal just a fragment of yourself. "I'm a trauma surgeon," you replied cryptically, letting the mystery linger in the air. It was then that you noticed how handsome he was. Blonde, clean-cut hair and deep green eyes… who wouldn’t swoon for that?

Jake's eyebrows lifted in genuine surprise, his cocky demeanor momentarily faltering. "A trauma surgeon? Now, that's impressive," he remarked, a newfound respect coloring his tone. "Here I am, just a pilot, and you're out there saving lives and I take them."

You chuckled softly at his dark humor, appreciating the humility that so rarely came from the pilots you had known in the past. "It's not a competition," You assured him, feeling a sense of something beginning to form between the two of you. No wonder he was so cocky. He was striking and a pilot to boot? It should’ve been over then and there, but he drew you in further than you had ever intended.

Jake nodded, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound sense of admiration. "I know, but still...what you do is pretty incredible. Badass even.” he said earnestly, a genuine warmth in his voice.

As the conversation continued to flow between you, a comfortable exchange began to form, fueled by mutual respect and a shared sense of adventure. And though you kept him guessing with your playful evasions, there was a part of you that couldn't help but feel drawn to Jake – to his confidence, his charm, and the undeniable spark that crackled between you. And so, as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the mess hall and the sounds of laughter filled the air, you found yourself fascinated by Jake, captivated by his irresistible charm and magnetic personality. Little did you know, this chance encounter would be the beginning of a friendship – and perhaps something more – that would change the course of your lives forever.

Over time, you found yourself drawn to him in ways you couldn't quite explain. Despite the demands of your respective roles on the base, you made time to see each other whenever you could – stolen moments between shifts, late-night conversations beneath the stars, stolen glances in the dimly lit corridors of the barracks. Everyone knew of the two of you. Clearly in love but too stupid to do anything about it.

But beneath the surface, there was an unspoken tension between you, a lingering sense of longing that neither of you dared to acknowledge. You were both fiercely independent individuals, committed to your careers and reluctant to jeopardize the fragile balance of your friendship with something as unpredictable as love. So, you buried your feelings beneath layers of professionalism, convincing yourself that it was better this way – safer, more practical, less likely to end in utter heartbreak. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the spark between you refused to be extinguished, flickering to life with each passing glance, each fleeting touch.

Then, on a random Tuesday afternoon, Jake dropped a bombshell that shattered the delicate equilibrium you had worked so hard to maintain. "I'm being reassigned after this deployment," he confessed, his voice tinged with regret. "To Miramar."

As Jake's words sank in, a heavy silence enveloped the room, suffocating you with the weight of what his departure truly meant. You had been through so much together over the past three years. The highs and the lows, the laughter, and the tears. And now, faced with the prospect of his absence, you couldn't help but feel as though a piece of your heart was being torn away.

"Miramar? To Top Gun?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper, betraying the ache in your heart. You knew it was everything he had been working towards. And you knew how damn good of a pilot he was. It just surprised you how soon he was getting sent there. He must’ve been the best of the best.

Jake nodded. His expression somber. "Yeah. It's everything I’ve been working towards, but..." His voice trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken, hanging in the air like a heavy cloud of regret.

But all you could feel was a sense of loss. For the friendship you had built, for the moments you had shared, for the possibility of something more that now seemed out of reach. "I'm so happy for you, Jake. You deserve it. You deserve the whole world." You forced the words out, though they felt like shards of glass tearing at your soul. A single tear escaped your eye, tracing a silent path down your cheek.

Jake reached out, gently wiping away the tear with a look of utter despair in his eyes, as if he couldn't bear to see you cry. "I wish you could come with me," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a longing you knew mirrored your own. He grabbed for your hand joining his fingers in with yours.

Tears welled up in your eyes once more, threatening to spill over at any moment. "I know," you replied, your voice thick with unshed tears. "But I'm still in the middle of my fellowship. I can't just drop everything and leave. No matter how badly I want to." Another tear escaped as you realized what this meant. Your little bubble of happiness was going to vanish in an instant.

Jake nodded in understanding, his grip on your hand tightening as if trying to hold onto the moment for just a little while longer. "I know," he murmured, his gaze filled with a mixture of sadness and longing, mirroring the storm of emotions raging within your own heart.

Then, as if trying to lighten the mood, he flashed a small smile. "You know, I used to dream of being a Top Gun pilot when I was a kid," he confessed, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Never thought I'd actually get the chance to fly jets like that."

You couldn't help but smile through your tears, touched by his vulnerability. "You've come a long way from your childhood dreams Jake. I knew you’d be able to do it. If anybody could, it’s you," you remarked softly, a sense of pride swelling within you despite the ache in your heart. Because he did deserve it. He may have come off as an arrogant asshole at first, but he was anything but that. He was your best friend. The man who looked out for you over himself time and time again. You loved him but you held it close to your chest. Because you did love him you had to let him go. Let him go live his dreams.

And as the reality of his departure settled over you like a dark cloud. You couldn't help but wonder how you would ever find the strength to say goodbye to him. As you sat there together, holding hands beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the barracks, you realized that no matter where life took you, no matter how far apart you may be, the bond you shared with Jake would endure – a constant reminder of the love and friendship that had blossomed in the unlikeliest of places.

After Jake's departure, life on the base took on a different rhythm. The days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, each passing moment marked by the absence of his laughter, his warmth, his unwavering presence by your side. Despite the distance, you and Jake still found solace in occasional phone calls and sporadic messages, though never as often as you wished.

On an ordinary day, your world was turned upside down once again. Your commanding officer called you into his office, his expression serious as he delivered the news. "Doctor Y/L/N. I have some important news for you," he began, his tone solemn. "Due to some unforeseen circumstances, we've had to make some adjustments to our staffing plan. You're being reassigned."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a sense of unease settling over you. "Reassigned? But I thought I was heading to Austin for my next rotation. Replacing Doctor Warmack." you replied, trying to mask the anxiety in your voice. You had plans. You were moving to Texas. You had a house picked out. A life you were planning to start. But then again, you were in the military. You should’ve expected this.

Your CO shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Plans have changed. Chula Vista is in urgent need of a trauma surgeon of your caliber," he explained, his words sending a jolt of shock through your system.

Upon hearing the news of your reassignment to Chula Vista, a whirlwind of questions surged within you. "Sir, may I ask where Chula Vista is located?" you inquired tentatively, your voice betraying a mix of curiosity and apprehension. You hadn’t heard of that base. And you could’ve sworn you knew all the potential bases you could’ve been assigned to.

Your commanding officer, a seasoned veteran with a weathered expression, glanced up from his desk, his gaze thoughtful. "Chula Vista is a city just south of here, part of the San Diego metropolitan area," he explained as he pointed to the map of the states, his tone carrying a sense of gravitas. "It's home to several military installations, including Naval Air Station North Island and Naval Base Coronado. It's also in close proximity to Marine Corps Air Station Miramar.”

The mention of North Island and Miramar sent a jolt of emotion through you, memories of Jake flooding your mind with a bittersweet intensity. "Chula Vista also supports Top Gun operations, among many other military endeavors," the CO continued, his voice steady as he provided further context.

You were heading to exactly where Jake was. A shiver of anxiety ripped through you as you processed his words. “Thank you, sir," you replied, a mixture of gratitude and anticipation swelling within you.

As you turned to leave, the weight of the news settled over you, mingling with a newfound sense of purpose. Chula Vista, a city steeped in military history, a place where your path will intersect with Jake's once more. And though uncertainty loomed on the horizon, there was a glimmer of hope shining through. The possibility of reconnecting with Jake and the chance to explore what the future held in store.

As the days passed and your departure drew nearer, you found yourself grappling with a dilemma: should you reach out to Jake before making the move to Chula Vista, or should you let fate take its course and surprise him? The months of silence between you weighed heavily on your mind, leaving you uncertain of where you stood with him. Would he be glad to hear from you, or would your sudden reappearance only complicate things further?

Part of you longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had formed between you and reconnect before the distance between you grew even wider. But another part of you feared rejection, feared that your efforts would be met with indifference or worse… that Jake had moved on without you.

In the end, you couldn't shake the feeling that fate was leading you back to Jake, guiding you toward a reunion that was long overdue. And so, with a leap of faith, you made the decision to keep your plans a secret, to let the element of surprise be your ally. With each passing day, your anticipation grew, your excitement mingling with a touch of nervousness as you prepared for your move to Chula Vista. And as you boarded the plane bound for your new home, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held in store for you, for Jake, and for the bond that had endured despite the trials and tribulations that had threatened to tear you apart.

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Hard Deck. You found yourself seated at the bar, engaged in conversation with Penny, the owner of the establishment. The ambience was relaxed, with the murmur of chatter and the clinking of glasses providing a soothing backdrop to your discussion.

Penny, a vibrant and charismatic woman with a penchant for storytelling, leaned in with genuine interest as she got to know you. "So, what brings you to the Hard Deck? I haven’t seen you around here before," she asked, a playful twinkle in her eye.

You offered her a warm smile, appreciating her genuine curiosity. "Just got here a week ago. I've heard so much about this place from my coworkers," you explained, gesturing to the bustling bar around you. "They all recommended it as the must-visit bar in Miramar."

Penny's eyes lit up at your mention of coworkers. "Ah, you must be part of the base personnel then," she observed, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

You nodded, a sense of camaraderie forming between you. "I am! I'm a trauma surgeon over at the hospital in Chula Vista," you confirmed.

At the mention of your role, Penny's expression shifted, her eyes widening with recognition. "Wait a minute... are you Y/N? Doctor Y/L/N?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

Surprised by her sudden enthusiasm and knowing of your name, you nodded cautiously. "Yes, that's me. But how did you...?" you trailed off, curious about Penny's sudden change in demeanor. Her excitement was palpable, you could feel it in the air.

Penny beamed at you. "Oh, Jake talks about you all the time! You're one of his favorites," she revealed, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes.

A warmth spread through your chest at her words, touched by Jake's apparent fondness for you. "He does?" you asked, unable to conceal the smile that tugged at your lips.

Penny nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! He's always mentioning how talented and dedicated you are. He won’t admit it… or he doesn’t recognize it, but that man is head over heels for you, Doctor," she added with a playful wink.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Penny's teasing, feeling a flutter of anticipation as thoughts of Jake filled your mind. Little did you know, your reunion with him was just moments away, and the excitement of seeing him again filled you with a sense of joyful anticipation. Penny's mischievous grin widened as she caught sight of your reaction. "Oh, don't try to hide it, Y/N. I can see that spark in your eye," she teased, nudging you playfully.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of nervous energy coursing through you. "Alright, you caught me," you admitted with a grin. "I'm looking forward to catching up with an old friend."

As you sat at the bar, lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the door swinging open, admitting a group of pilots. It wasn't until Penny nudged you once more and whispered excitedly that you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you caught sight of Jake among them.

Before you could react, Jake's eyes locked onto yours, a look of sheer astonishment crossing his face. In a flash, he broke into a wide grin and dashed toward you, weaving through the crowd with purpose. You barely had time to register what was happening before Jake was upon you, pulling you into a massive bear hug that lifted you off your feet. Laughter bubbled up from deep within you as he spun you around in a whirlwind of joy and excitement, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the moment.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight as he held you close, his grip on you tight and unyielding. You couldn't help but laugh along with him, feeling the warmth of his embrace enveloping you like a familiar cocoon. In that moment, it didn't matter who was watching or what anyone else thought. All that mattered was the sheer exhilaration of being reunited with Jake, of feeling his arms around you once again.

"What the hell are you doing here without telling me, Doc?" Jake exclaimed, his voice filled with mock indignation as he held you close, refusing to let you go.

You laughed, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you at the familiarity of his embrace. "Surprise?" you replied, unable to keep the grin from your face as you met his gaze.

Jake shook his head, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, consider me surprised," he admitted, his tone playful as he finally set you back down on solid ground. “I have to say, this is the best surprise I've had in a long time." As you stood there together, wrapped up in each other's arms, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the years that had passed since you last saw each other, it felt as though no time had passed at all. As though you had simply picked up right where you left off.

As the warmth of your embrace lingered, Jake's eyes remained fixed on yours, a softness settling over his features as he took in the sight of you. His hand remained firmly on your shoulder, his touch comforting and reassuring.

"I've missed you, Y/N," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke. "More than you'll ever know." You felt a swell of emotion rise within you at his words, the sincerity in his voice stirring something deep within your heart. Despite the distance and the time that had passed, the connection between you felt as strong as ever – a testament to the bond you shared.

Before you could respond, Jake's gaze softened even further, a flicker of determination shining in his eyes as he made a decision. Without hesitation, he reached for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. "Let's catch up," he suggested, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "There's so much I want to tell you, so much I want to share."

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face at his eagerness to spend time together. "I'd love that," you replied, feeling a surge of excitement at the prospect of reconnecting with Jake.

As you stepped outside into the cool night air, the sound of laughter and music fading into the background, Jake turned to you, his expression earnest. "Y/N, there's something I need to say," he began, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You looked at him, curiosity piqued by his serious tone. "What is it, Jake?" you asked, concern flickering in your eyes.

Jake took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before continuing. "I've thought about this moment for so long, wondering if I'd ever get the chance to tell you how I feel," he confessed, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, anticipation building within you as you waited for him to speak. "How you feel?" you prompted, unable to contain the hope in your voice.

Jake's lips curved into a tender smile, his eyes shining with sincerity. "Y/N, I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I've been too afraid," he admitted, his voice filled with vulnerability. Before you could respond, he took a step closer, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. "I want to be with you, Y/N," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "I want to make up for lost time and see where this goes."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and as you gazed into his eyes, you found yourself lost in the depths of his sincerity. His vulnerability touched you in a way you hadn't expected, and you felt a surge of affection for him that was impossible to ignore. But before you could respond, Jake took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "May I kiss you?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with determination.

Your breath caught in your throat at his question, surprised by his respect and thoughtfulness. You nodded eagerly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Please, Jake," you replied with certainty, your voice barely above a whisper. "Of course."

As Jake's lips met yours, a surge of warmth flooded through your entire body. It was as if every nerve in you ignited with a newfound energy, responding to the tender, loving touch of his kiss. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sensation of his lips against yours, soft and yielding yet filled with an undeniable passion. Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of his embrace. His lips moved against yours with a gentle rhythm, each kiss sending sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. It was one of those kisses filled with longing and desire, a silent confession of the feelings that had been building between you for so long.

Your knees threatened to buckle beneath you as the intensity of the moment washed over you, but Jake's strong arms wrapped around you, holding you close and steady. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, grounding you in the present moment even as you felt yourself swept away by the sheer emotion of it all. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him as if he could never bear to let you go again. They were warm and reassuring, tracing the curves of your spine with a tenderness that left you breathless. For the first time in your life, you felt utterly and completely cherished, as if you were the most important person in the world to him. Because you were and he was determined to show you that.

As the kiss deepened, the world around you faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you in your own private cocoon of love and desire. It was a moment you would treasure forever, a testament to the depth of the connection you shared with Jake.

When you finally pulled away, your lips still tingling from the sweetness of his, you found yourself lost in his eyes once again. As you gazed into Jake's, feeling the weight of his gaze and the depth of his love, a sense of peace washed over you. It was as if all the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place, and you knew, deep in your heart, that this was where you were meant to be.

With a gentle smile, Jake pressed his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered softly, "I am never letting you go again." His words filled you with a sense of warmth and belonging, reassuring you that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. While you gazed into the depths of his soul, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your story together.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

#jake seresin #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #jake seresin blurb #jake hangman seresin #tgm #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #hangman x oc #hangman x you #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman fic #hangman fluff #hangman imagine #hangman

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Peach rings and broken things masterlist

These are all individual blurbs that can be read in order, or separately.

Synopsis: You’ve been best friends with Jake since birth and he even introduced you to your now long time boyfriend, Nathan. But when your relationship starts to get rocky, Jake decides it is time to step in.

Warnings: cursing, protective Jake, verbal and physical abuse, and you will hate Nathan by the end of this. There also may be smut, so please 18+ only

Her protector

Ticking time bomb

Time for a change

The mess I made

I’m not jealous

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fanfic #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin one shot #jake seresin x you #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fanfic #hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #tgm one shot #tgm imagine #tgm imagines #tgm angst #jake seresin angst #tgm fanfiction

[callsigncherub]

Masterlist

Bad idea!

You and Rooster both knew this was a bad idea, but this keeps on happening.

How about a kiss?

When your day goes from bad to worse, Rooster’s there to make it better <3

To love and be loved.

Rooster learns what it's like to love and be loved.

K.

Your friendship with Bradley was questionable after you both decided to become friends with benefits. What happens when you realize you've fallen in love with him?

Series

His and Mine are the same:

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be;" - Emily Bronte.

Isabella Munro never believed she was capable of being loved. When she meets Bradley Bradshaw, an all consuming love teaches them both lessons about themselves they never knew they needed, until just the right moment.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Epilogue

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fluff #top gun smut #tgm #tgm masterlist #top gun maverick masterlist #smut #fluff #angst #tgm smut #top gun angst #tgm angst #tgm fluff #bradley bradshaw #jake seresisn #natasha trace #javy machado #mickey garcia #reuben fitch #bob floyd #masterlist #drabble #imagine #one shot #series #rooster top gun

[seresinsbabe]

Singing Again

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader

Synopsis: Bob notices the first big change after you start fighting your depression.

Warnings: depression, mentions of suicide and passive suicidal ideation, therapy, treatment of depression, angst, fluff. basically if anything in the realm of depression is triggering for you don't read this.

I do not consent to having any of my work shared on any other platform. If you see any rendition of my works on another site know that it has been posted without my permission.

THIS BLOG AND ITS WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

Depression is depicted so differently in media. Growing up all the commercials depicted it as constant crying, the overwhelming need to end it all, and the cliches you now knew it not to be. And sure – maybe for some that’s exactly what it was. Not for you, though. 

You can’t remember exactly when it started. Maybe it was when your grandma died so suddenly of cancer that hadn’t been found until it was too late. Or maybe it was when you watched your parents' marriage fall apart while you were trying to navigate high school. When you became the shoulder to cry for your mom at the ripe age of sixteen. For your entire life you had been pouring from an empty cup, making sure you were keeping everyone else together while you continued to crumble. Regardless of when it first happened it was here now. 

Depression for you was not what it looked like as a kid. For you it was no appetite. Not eating even when you knew you had to. Foods you once drooled over made your stomach churn. How many nights had you spent driving around aimlessly in your town, crying to the songs that took you back to your childhood with a pack of cigarettes? Trying to ease the pain, let some of it out through tears and sobs down dark back roads. 

Your friends had noticed how much the shadow had creeped over you. Your boyfriend, Bob, he’d noticed too. While he didn’t quite understand, he was there for you. When you brought up therapy he was supportive in a way you hadn’t expected him to be. For so long you had avoided it. Convincing yourself that if you got an official diagnosis, if you heard someone actually tell you that there was something wrong with you that everyone would leave. 

Bob was nervous for you, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He knew there were things from your childhood you hadn’t told him about. Things he had never pressed you to tell him about. Honestly he was worried that as soon as you cracked open your chest, poured everything out and realized that it might hurt that you would stop going. And that you would spiral even deeper. 

It was scary. God you were so scared that first session. Afraid that if you opened up too much that you would grant yourself a ticket for a seventy-two hour hold. It wasn’t that you wanted to do anything to yourself, you knew you never would. Or at least you didn’t think you ever would, but depression was a sneaky bitch. However you were passive about it. You didn’t exactly have an aversion to some horrific accident happening and taking you out. Some days that sounded better than others. 

It wasn’t that you’d had a hard life. Other’s had certainly had it harder. You had a great group of friends, a good job, a loving partner. Everything you needed. It felt wrong to even consider yourself depressed. To even want to end it when there were other people that lacked even the basic needs for survival. But you did feel that way and you didn’t want to feel this way anymore.

To your surprise your therapist had told you that was common. In fact it was called Passive Suicidal Ideation. So you started on the path to getting better. Sessions two times a week that would hopefully eventually taper down and medication to fix the chemical imbalance in your brain. 

Months went by and while you didn’t notice a huge difference, you noticed you were a bit better. It wasn’t until about month four that Bob noticed the biggest change in you.

He’d just woken up on the first day of his leave. The warm morning sun lighting up the bedroom, the smell of breakfast in the kitchen and…singing. His heart skipped a beat. It had been so long since he heard you singing. Actually it was when he realized you stopped that his concern for your mental state had really started to increase. 

Throwing the covers off himself his feet carried him out to the kitchen. He wanted to find out if he was really hearing what he thought he was. Sure enough, he was. You stood in the kitchen, in nothing but one of his t-shirts that was big enough to be dress length on you, hair up in a bun as you sang and flitted around the kitchen.

In a few strides he was over to you and pulling you into his arms, breathing your scent in and squeezing you tightly against him. 

“Oh, good morning to you too, Handsome.” You giggled, unsure of what caused such an intense good morning.

“You're singin’ again.” His voice sounded a bit weak, like he was crying. You pulled away, looking up at him to find that his eyes were watery. There were some streaks on his cheeks where a tear or two had escaped. “I-I didn’t think I’d ever hear it again.” He choked out, his tearful eyes boring into your own. 

It didn’t take you long to realize what he meant by that and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding in. Your lips formed a soft smile as your own eyes started watering. “Yeah Bobby, I’m singing again.” You let out another shaky breath. Not because you were sad, but because you were happy. You were getting better, you were coming back into yourself again. 

Bob’s lips found yours and he squeezed you against him again. “I love you so fuckin’ much, darlin’.” He whispered when he pulled away.

“I love you too Bobby, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Good. Wanna hear that voice every day, for the rest of my life. You got it?” With a soft giggle you nodded.

“Got it, Lieutenant.” You giggled harder at the groan he let out while you pried yourself out of his grasp. Breakfast was still cooking, you could celebrate later.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd angst #robert floyd #robert floyd x reader #tgm angst #bob top gun

[seresinhangmanjake]

Jingle of The Bells

jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Your little girl is worried her father won’t make it home for Christmas.

Notes/warnings: this is the same family from the Oh, Baby universe, but it stands alone as well :) Mostly Fluff, a dash of angst.

This is for @sailor-aviator's Christmas Writing Challenge (my word is Bells)

Words: 2386

Your daughter was so much like your husband. You’d say too much if not for the fact that you loved them deeply. But there came a lot with their similarities. Double doses of determination, wit, and control. So, not unlike your husband, your little girl wanted to be the one to call the shots. However, circumstances didn’t always allow for that, and in those cases, Eve struggled the most.

---

“Mama, he’s supposed to be home!” 

Eve’s arms were wrapped tight around your neck as her wails echoed in your ear. You held on to her snuggly, her little legs tucked into the open space between your criss-crossed seated position on the floor. 

Until you’d joined her, she’d sat in the same spot all night, the teddy bear from her father settled in her lap as she stared at the front door. Despite the colored lights strung around your home, the pile of presents for her and her baby brother from Jake’s mother, grandmother, and team, and the cookies waiting to be decorated, Eve hadn’t moved. 

Every five minutes she would ask you the time, and each answer you gave her broke your heart right along with hers. She was too young to remember that Jake’s return schedule wasn’t always a guarantee. You were used to not making plans on the day you were originally told your husband would be coming home to you because promises in his line of work didn’t exist. There were no promises he would be gone only as long as he initially believed, no promises he would return on time, no promises he would return at all. But for so long Eve was spared all of that. The one time she remembered her father leaving, he did manage to come back when expected. She had never faced that disappointment. Until now. 

“Sweetie, it’s not Daddy’s fault,” you whispered. “I promise you he wants to be with us and that he’ll be home as soon as he can.”

“But it’s Christmas!”

Christmas Eve, actually, but to your daughter it was all the same. She had expectations. Cookie decorating, and milk pouring—a skill she’d asked Jake to help her perfect, not wanting to spill a drop for the reindeer. There was a letter she wanted to write to Santa, thanking him for bringing her Daddy home, which he had not, only adding to Eve’s bitterness. And it didn’t do her any good that before Jake left, she had also begged for a Christmas Eve pajama party where you all dressed in matching flannels, her baby brother included, and read a story before bed. 

Jake had done his best to promise those things to Eve, and in the same moment, with a single look at you, had silently communicated the very real possibility that none of it might happen. You knew it, expected it, and didn’t blame him for it, but it didn’t change that your little girl was in pain and her father wasn’t by her side to make it go away.

“I know. I know, Sweetie,” you said, gently rocking her back and forth. But your soothing could only be so effective, and for the night, she wouldn’t be able to take much more. “I think it’s time for bed now.”

“Why?” came out nasally, her crying having stuffed up her nose.

“Because you’ve been up for too long. You woke up hours earlier than you usually do and you didn’t take your nap today.”

She pulled her head back from the crook of your neck to look at you, and you wiped away the salty liquid from under her lashes. “But what about Daddy?”

“Daddy will be home soon. He’s just a little late, but that’s ok.”

“It is not.”

“It is, Sweetie,” you said, your own tears forming and beginning to blur your daughter’s face. “He’s trying so hard to be here, and that’s what matters.” When one of them fell, Eve’s finger rose to meet the droplet as it slowed its descent down your cheek. You grabbed her hand and rubbed the tear off her fingertip. “Come on, let’s go lay down.”

This time, with exhaustion setting in, she didn’t fight you, but she did wiggle from your hold to stand up on her own. Then she used the last of her energy to rush over to the coffee table where the small set of jingle bells she’d been dangling in front of her brother’s face to elicit his giggles was lying. Jake had bought her those bells last Christmas and immediately regretted bringing such incessant jingling into his home. 

Swallowing back your remaining tears, you watched as Eve wrapped her fingers around the velvet cord that kept the bells in a bunch before making her way into the hall and draping the cord over the knob of the front door. 

You nodded and stood. Her tears were not quite dried, and you knew she was desperate to keep her eyes on that door, but she still took your hand when you reached out for her. 

“I’ll tell you if I hear them,” you said before lifting her in your arms to carry her up to her room. 

---

In her weakened fight against sleep, Eve failed. When you finally had her tucked in her bed, passed out and releasing soft snores, you returned to the living room where you wrapped yourself up in a blanket and stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace. 

You did your best not to fall apart in front of your daughter, but Jake being gone ripped you to pieces as much as it did her. It didn’t help that his return was no less anxiety-inducing than his departure. The occasional unpredictability allowed your mind to wander to undesirable scenarios that, at this point, you knew weren’t likely, but the thought of them still terrified you. 

Jake was fine, though. You believed it, knew it. He was safe. The next person to open that door would be him, it was just a matter of when, and hoping it would be before the holiday was over. 

---

The clock had reached midnight only a handful of minutes before your eyelids grew heavy and begged to close. You fought sleep but, much like your daughter, reached your limit and succumbed. The consistent crackling of the fire combined with the warmth of the blanket lulled you slowly but effectively. It was too quiet and peaceful to resist, until a jingle clanged against another jingle which together thumped against something thick and solid. 

Your body jolted as you heard a muttered “Why so damn loud?”

“Jake?” you called, tossing the blanket aside and running toward the door. He barely had his duffle on the floor and his key out of the lock when you slammed into him. 

His arms were around you in an instant, slightly lifting you off the ground as his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. “God, you feel good,” was muffled in his deep voice, vibrating against your skin. His arms tightened. “So good.”

Your feet met the floor again, and with your hands on his cheeks, you guided his head back so you could press your lips to his. Your moan greeted his. Then you sighed into the kiss and melted further into his hold. No matter how many times you said goodbye, you were always relieved to find him the same as when he left. The feel of him, the taste of him, the chills you got when his hands wove into your hair—he never returned as anyone other than your Jake. 

He gave you two more pecks, then one final long kiss before he broke it to breathe, allowing his forehead to rest against yours while his chest expanded and deflated and expanded again to take in the air you’d stolen. “I missed you, Honey.”

A tear forged a cold trail down the flush of your cheek and slipped into the seam of your lips. “I missed you, too.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your forehead before meeting your eyes. “How are the kids?”

“Needing you,” you said as he wiped away the wet river from your skin. “Eve thought you weren’t going to make it home in time.”

Knowing your husband, it took only the barest of shifts in his stance, his brow, his eyes, for you to see his heart was breaking right along with Eve’s. He turned his head toward the staircase that led to the bedrooms of your home, his daughter’s in particular.

Inching up on your toes, you softly kissed the line of his jaw and, somehow, for the first time, noticed he had a little bit of stubble. His last day or two must have been exhausting if he hadn’t gotten a chance to shave. Likely, everyone was in such a rush to get home to their families that some basic rules went out the window. Your kiss traveled up to his cheek. 

“It’s ok, baby,” you whispered. “You’re with us now.”

“Did she cry?”

“She’ll forget all about it when she sees your face.”

Jake lightly hummed, unsatisfied with the state he’d forced upon his daughter. Without letting another beat pass, he took your hand, led you to your daughter's room, and eased her door open. 

The glow emitting from Eve’s new plane nightlight—an early Christmas gift the Daggers had sent from overseas—highlighted her sleeping face, and her delicate features were so peaceful you’d never have known she was devastated a few hours prior.

When you had let her open the gift from the team, you of course told her who it was from right away with a huge smile splitting your face. She was so excited as she pulled at the bow and shredded the paper that she laughed louder than you had heard in quite some time. Her eyes went wide and she hopped up on her feet to fly the plane around the room. She giddily showed her infant brother—who received his own nightlight in the form of a train so the gifts would be unique to each child—before she plopped down on the carpet in your living room to examine every detail of the elaborately designed light. 

And then she began to sob. 

She sobbed for missing her daddy and aunts and uncles; for missing the many times Jake had taken his family to see the planes he flew, which closely matched the shape of Eve’s gift. She sobbed until you took her upstairs for bed, helped her plug in the light, and told her a story of her daddy seeing that plane and that train and immediately thinking of his baby girl and little boy. 

That was only three weeks ago, and Eve’s angst had grown with the passing days. But the little light helped her rest at night as long as she completed her ritual of crouching down in front of the radiating glow and whispering a soft “goodnight Daddy” before settling into bed. 

It did help for a while, but it didn’t cease the daily return of her tears. And this night, fairly so, was by far the worst. Her disappointment made the light its least effective since she’d received it. 

Jake stepped into the room and took a seat at the edge of her bed. “I shouldn’t wake her,” he said as he brushed a blonde curl out of her face. From that light touch, Eve stirred, but then she stilled again, releasing a soft breath.

Your husband sighed right along with her. You knew how badly he wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight. He needed that. He could see her in front of him, and from those inhales and exhales, could hear her, and he could feel the soft curls of her hair, but nothing compared to feeling her little heartbeat beating against his, or hearing her sweet voice, or seeing her bright smile. That he’d have to wait for morning to truly greet his daughter after months away was an ache you would never know. Yes, you ached for him when he was gone, and you knew he did for you, but it just wasn’t the same. This was his child, a piece of him that he’d gone without for so long. It was a powerless feeling. She was right there, but being the father he was, Jake wouldn’t disturb her for his own sake. 

Carefully, Jake leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby girl.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Would you like to go see our son?” Another one of his children that he’d undoubtedly refuse to disturb, no matter how much he wanted to see the little pair of eyes that matched yours staring up at him. 

Jake nodded, gently squeezing Eve’s tiny hand. He was about to stand when you both heard a soft, “Daddy?”

Your heads whipped in Eve’s direction to find her fists rubbing at her eyes. Her eyelids fluttered as her vision adjusted to the darkness, but when she saw the darkened figure sitting by her side, Eve didn’t second guess herself. She kicked at her covers and leapt across the bed with the speed and agility of a bunny rabbit. 

“Daddy!” 

Jake chuckled as he caught her. “Hi, baby girl.��

Little hands reached up to his face to verify his realness. They ran up and down the scruff she’d rarely ever seen, making Jake’s cheeks contort in funny shapes, and then she grinned. “You came home.”

You couldn’t see all of Jake’s face, but you heard his sniffle as he tugged your daughter closer to his chest. “Of course, I did.”

“Mama said you would.”

“Well, Mama’s usually right, isn’t she?” he said, turning to look at you and confirming the redness that was brightening the green of his irises. He winked before returning his attention to his daughter.

Eve nodded vigorously then threw her arms around his neck, squeezing with all of her might. “I like Santa again.”

“When didn’t you like Santa?” Jake asked as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

Eve pulled back. Her smile was still in place as she patted the tops of his shoulders with both hands. “Today," she said. "But you are home so he’s ok.”

---

A/N: so i have another christmas challenge fic coming that is Rooster x reader, which is my very first Rooster fic so hopefully I do alright. Then my focus will be on The One I Want and some Thorn (Expendables 3) fics :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @eloquentdreamer @jessicab91 @rosedurin @novagreen04 @memeorydotcom @purplevortexx @sgt-barnesveins @books-are-escapes

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #tgm #tgm fic #christmas fic

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 3) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 2.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Secret Relationship; Angst; Undefined Relationships; Overprotective Family; Background Relationships; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: You struggle to keep your secret. Maverick's birthday dinner is off to a disastrous start.

Series Master List

Master List

It had been about two weeks since Phoenix and Coyote’s wedding and you hadn’t slept well a single night since. There was a weariness to your movements that wasn’t there before. Jake’s words were still echoing around in your head, threatening to upend what was left of your sanity at any second. 

And you still didn’t know what to do. 

Jake was pretty much ignoring you, doing what you did to him before the wedding. He dodged your calls, didn’t answer your texts, and the only thing that you hadn’t done yet to get his attention was show up at his apartment. You did have a key, but you were worried about pushing too much into crazy ex-girlfriend territory. 

And you weren’t even his ex-girlfriend. You were just the woman he fucked around with and knocked up. 

But could you really raise a baby on your own? Maybe. After all, your mom was a single mom for most of your life. And you knew that even though Maverick and Rooster would go apeshit for some time after finding out, they wouldn’t turn their backs on you. You would have help. You would have support. There was no way that your family would leave you and the baby to fend for yourselves. 

But was that the future, the life you really wanted? 

“Are you okay?” Emma asked you as you slowly worked on Maverick's birthday cake.

You were standing in Maverick’s kitchen with your sister-in-law, preparing Maverick’s surprise birthday dinner. Emma was cooking dinner with some help from Bradley, though his real job was to go out and grab ingredients that his wife forgot to buy, Penny was distracting Maverick for the day, and you were in charge of baking the cake. 

You always found baking soothing. It took you back to the Sunday afternoons that you spent with your mom while she taught you how to make everything from scratch. Bradley never really had an interest in baking, just eating, so it was always your alone time with your mom. And after she passed, you always turned to baking when you needed some kind of comfort or a simple, meaningless task to focus on. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, lazily frosting the cake in front of you. 

“Are you sure? You haven’t really been like yourself for some time.”

“I’m just tired.”

It wasn’t even a lie. You were exhausted. And it didn’t help that your stomach decided when it was happy with the food that you gave it and when it wasn’t with the flip of a coin. You felt so tired and drained already. Pulling the cake closer to you, you started writing out ‘Happy Birthday’ with the tube of blue icing. 

“Is it something with work?” 

“No.”

“Something wrong with your apartment again?”

“No, it’s just . . . it’s nothing.”

Since Jake walked off at the reception, you hadn’t told anyone else about your pregnancy. Penny asked you about it once a few days after the wedding and you just told her that you were still trying to tell the father and that was it. You didn’t really have the strength to mention the fact that Jake was ignoring you and you were very quickly beginning to spiral. 

“Alright,” Emma replied softly, going back to chopping vegetables. She left you alone for about a minute before turning back to you. “Did you want some wine? Bradley nicked some bottles from the reception. Including that rosé that you like so much.”

“No, I’m alright with water.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m . . . not drinking right now,” you replied awkwardly.

“Really?” Emma asked, sounding honestly surprised at your poor attempt to get out of drinking that evening. “So, no more Wine Down Wednesdays then?” 

“Not for a bit, no.”

“Alright,” Emma replied quietly, now more than a little suspicious. 

Emma had known you for longer than she had known Bradley. The two of you went to the same college and knew each other through sports. She was one of the captains when you were a freshman and took you under her wing. And when she moved out to San Diego, you offered to take her out for a drink at the Hard Deck. Rooster was there and you introduced them and the rest was history. 

And she knew that something was off with you.

Emma knew that both you and Bradley had a tendency to shut yourselves down when you were feeling a lot of emotional stress. She chalked it up to unresolved childhood trauma, of which you both had a decent amount. 

And it was written all over your face. You were stressed. You weren’t sleeping well. You weren’t eating well. You were cutting yourself off from the world around you. And she was getting seriously concerned about you and your health.

Emma set down her knife and slowly turned to face you, though you ignored her gaze, and gently called your name. You kept your head stubbornly down, focusing on the design on Maverick’s birthday cake, piping meaningless designs to just try and bide your time away from the conversation with your sister-in-law. 

“Did something happen at the wedding?”

“Can you drop it?” you snapped, finally turning to face Emma. 

She paused, not looking offended, but all the more concerned. Sighing, you set down the icing bag and walked out of the kitchen. Emma didn’t follow after you immediately, giving you some space to breathe for a moment as you stepped out for some fresh air. But when she saw you starting to cry, she hurried outside after you. 

As she approached the bench where you were sitting outside, you didn’t look up. But when she sat down beside you and gently pulled you in for a hug, you immediately turned to her. Latching onto her, every emotion that you plugged up inside since the wedding just came pouring out. She brushed your hair and just let you cry, not entirely shocked by your reaction. 

“You know, if you tell me anything, whatever it is, I’m not going to share it with Bradley without your permission, right?” Emma spoke softly, rubbing your back supportively. “And that goes for any topic here, okay?”

You wanted the first person you told about your pregnancy, minus Penny that is, to be Jake. He was the one who knocked you up. This was his baby. But Jake wasn’t listening to you. And holy shit you wanted to get some of the burden of this secret off of your shoulders. You wouldn’t last much longer just holding onto this by yourself. 

“You can’t tell Bradley, okay?” you whispered out shakily, causing Emma to nod. 

“Lips are sealed,” Emma promised you, giving you a supportive squeeze. 

You pursed your quivering lips together, just trying to take a moment to pull yourself together so that you didn’t start sobbing again. Sniffling, you buried your face into Emma’s chest a bit more, thinking for a moment about how your mom would have reacted to this situation, before finally letting it out. 

“I’m pregnant.” 

You could feel Emma tense up, but she didn’t say a word. Your stomach started to grow tight as the stress and anxiety of the last few weeks reached a new peak. But right as you started to go down the train of thought that you were truly on your own, Emma pulled you in for a tighter hug and steeled her own emotions in the moment. 

“You’re sure?” she whispered, rubbing your back again.

“I took three tests. Penny knows. She was there when I took them.” 

“Have you been to see a doctor?” 

“No,” you croaked out, straightening up on your own. Wiping away your tears and snot, you stared down at your lap for a moment. “I got an appointment. But I don’t really know what to expect with the whole . . . situation.” 

“And how are you feeling about it all?” Emma asked softly. 

“I’m . . . I’ve been better,” you replied lamely, wiping some more tears away. 

“Has the . . . father been supporting you through this? What did you say when you told him?” Emma questioned quietly. 

“Well, I haven’t told him yet,” you stated, causing Emma to nod slowly.

“Do you want to?” 

“Yes, of course,” you responded a bit sharper than you meant to, turning to meet Emma’s concerned gaze. “I meant to, but he’s . . . sort of . . . ignoring me now.” 

“Ignoring you?” Emma demanded, frowning protectively. “Why do you think he is ignoring you?”

“I sort of . . . pushed away from him after I found out I was pregnant and then he tried to talk to me about it when I wasn’t ready and I tried to push it off a little bit more and then he got mad and stormed off and hasn’t spoken to me since.” 

Without digging too much into how much the situation reminded her of petty high school drama, Emma straightened up in her seat, trying to come up with some sort of plan to get the father of your baby to grow the fuck up. 

“Who is he anyways? Does he live around here?” 

“You’re not going to break down his door,” you sighed, rubbing your face. Biting your lip, you turned to your sister-in-law. “I would tell you, but I think that you’ll freak out.” 

“I promise that I won’t freak out,” Emma assured you. 

“The father . . . is Jake,” you announced after a few moments of silence.

“Jake who?”

“Hangman,” you rephrased, a bit harsher than you intended. 

“Hangman?” Emma repeated, clearly trying to manage her tone and expression. When you nodded, she tried to manage her expression further. “The father of your baby is . . . Hangman. And he’s the one ignoring you?”

“Yes,” you stressed, your anxiety starting to spike again. 

Before Emma could reply, the sound of the fire alarm inside caused you both to get to your feet. Running and swearing, you raced inside. Smoke billowed out of the oven as soon as Emma pulled it open. She hurried to turn it off as you started to open the windows and beat the smoke away from the fire alarm. 

“What the fuck!?” Bradley cursed, running into the house after returning from the store. 

Grabbing the fire extinguisher by the front door, he ran over and put out the fire. You kept fanning the smoke away, but soon the smell of burnt food caused your stomach to roll and you were rushing into the bathroom. 

“For fuck’s sake,” you groaned as you yanked the lid up. 

Emma ran into the bathroom once the chaos in the kitchen dwindled down and Bradley got control of the situation some more. Cursing, she kneeled down beside you and delicately pulled the strands of hair that unfortunately made their way into the bowl. 

“Sorry,” she apologized, wincing as you wretched again. “I forgot to turn off the oven before I ran outside after you.” 

“It’s fine,” you sighed, picking your head up. “It’s just how my life’s going at this point. What’s another disaster?” 

“Well, it’s all settled,” Bradley sighed, walking over to where you and Emma were in the bathroom. Spotting you leaning over the toilet, he quickly stepped into the room, concerned. “What happened to you?” 

“The smoke just made me nauseous,” you replied softly, not meeting your brother’s gaze. “I’m fine, Bradley.” 

“This is like the tenth time I’ve seen you throw up,” Bradley stated, folding his arms over his chest, like he always did when he was about to lecture you. “I think that you should see a doctor at this point.” 

“I’ve got an appointment,” you sighed, closing the lid and flushing your stomach’s contents away. “I’m a big girl, Bradley.” Sitting on the floor and leaning against the vanity, you looked up at your brother. “How’s the cake?” 

“A little smokey, but it should be fine. As for the rest of it . . .” 

“There’s always take out,” Emma stated, standing up. “But maybe we should host it somewhere that isn’t so smokey.” 

“The only other option is my apartment,” you replied, getting to your feet. 

“Great,” Bradley sighed, earning a nudge from his wife. “I mean, that’s great.” 

“Hilarious,” you muttered, getting to your feet as well. “I’ll text Penny and tell her about the change in plans. I’ll take the cake and go set up at my apartment. You two clean up here and figure out dinner.” 

You left Maverick’s house shortly thereafter, returning to your apartment. It didn’t take too long to set up the cake and dinner. Bradley and Emma arrived with the food about thirty minutes later and the three of you were hurrying around trying to make it look homemade. 

“Shit,” you cursed when your doorbell rang. “Just hide the containers in my pantry.” 

Rushing over to the door, you pulled it open, just expecting it to be Maverick and Penny. But when you looked up and saw Jake standing there, you instantly tensed up. He stared at you for a moment, looking a bit nervous, but with that usual reserved air of confidence about him. 

“Jake,” you breathed out, gripping the door so hard it hurt. 

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