#top gun maverick angst

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

I Know Places.

Synopsis - Jake always joked that he'd kill for you. One fateful day, he does just that.

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Female Reader (Callsign - Ivy) - Bonnie&Clyde inspired au

Warnings - cursing. very near SA. mentions of abuse/assault. mentions of blood, gunshots and violence. mentions of suicide. please, do not read if any of these warnings will affect you.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.1k

Author's Note - i'm not sure what happened, because this was really fluffy in my head. it ended up kind of dark, but i'm rolling with it. i like writing a different side of jake. just in time for halloween too. this was written for @laracrofted 1989TGM celebration!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You stand with your hand on my waistline

It's a scene, and we're out here in plain sight

I can hear them whisper as we pass by

It's a bad sign, bad sign

Jake's always had impeccable timing.

He'd tell you, later, that he sensed it. Just knew. Felt it in his gut, some sort of warning from the universe. He had to get to you.

The Admiral has you half bent over the desk in his office, fingers twisted into your underwear. He's trying to pull them down your legs when the door swings open.

You're paralysed, frozen with fear. The look on your face must tell Jake enough. He gets the message, understands your silent communication.

The Admiral stops. Backs away. As if putting distance between you will erase what he's been caught doing. Trying to do.

You expect Jake to yell, fight, throw The Admiral across the room by his collar. You expect blood, bruises, broken skin and bared teeth.

All you're met with is silence.

Jake strides across the room towards you. Fixes your clothes, smooths down your hair. Wipes the tears from your cheeks. He snakes a hand around your waist and guides you out of the door. Not a word said.

Something happens when everybody finds out

See the vultures circling, dark clouds

Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out

It could burn out

"He'll ruin my career."

You're tucked into Jake's lap, legs slung over his hips as he holds you close. His rough fingertips run themselves up and down your spine, comforting and gentle. You inhale his musk, letting the familiarity fill your lungs.

"You didn't do anything wrong, baby."

"That won't matter."

The two of you are whispering, hushed voices bouncing off the furniture. You're alone together in Jake's living room. There's no one else around. You think he's scared he'll spook you. You're right.

"I worked so hard for this, Jake. I sacrificed everything to get into Top Gun."

"I know, baby."

"I can't lose it all."

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back from your eyes.

"What do you want to do? Report him?"

"Jake, you're not listening to me. He'll ruin my career."

"But he's the guilty one. Not you."

"Yeah, well. This is the way it works. Men can assault you and still play the victim."

You're frustrated, now. There's something bubbling, running through your veins. You can't put your finger on it. It feels like more than rage. Whatever it is, it's lethal.

You climb off Jake's lap and stand, pacing across the carpet.

"What am I supposed to do?" you murmur, tears threatening to spill.

Jake can't stand the wobble in your voice. It tightens something in his chest, pulls at his heartstrings. He was furious, before. He's just sad now.

"I'll do anything you ask," he tells you, standing up to cradle your face in his hands. "Anything in the world."

"I know."

And you do. That's what it's like, being with Jake. He loves so entirely, with his whole being. Every fibre of his heart belongs to you. It beats to the rhythm of your name.

"Just tell me what you wanna do, baby. I'm on your side. No matter what."

You lean up to kiss him, his lips soft and careful against yours.

"I'm not sure, yet. When I know, you'll know."

Jake sits back down on the couch, pulling you with him. You tuck yourself into his side, fitting there perfectly. He slings an arm around your waist and keeps you close, holding you a little tighter than usual.

Cause they got the cages, they got the boxes

And guns

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

"We should kill him."

You're strewn across Jake's chest, tangled in the sheets. Your limbs and hearts are intertwined, bodies drenched in sweat and lungs heaving.

"What?"

You sit up, pulling the comforter up and over your body slightly to combat the chill of the ocean breeze that's filtering through the open window.

"Let's kill him."

You look over to your boyfriend, waiting for the punchline. It never comes.

"Jake."

He turns to you, the most serious you've ever seen him. There's a look in his eye you've never seen before. It's dark. You're vaguely aware you should probably feel fear - but all you feel is anticipation.

"How many girls do you think he's done this to before you? How many will come after?"

You swallow, biting at your lips.

"He needs to be stopped, baby. You and I both know they won't fire him. He needs to be taken out of the equation altogether."

You realise, suddenly, that the thing you're worried about isn't the morality of the situation. It's the logistics. You don't want to get caught.

"Do you think we're smart enough to get away with murder?"

"Baby," he drawls, brushing his knuckles over your cheekbone. "We're a hell of a lot smarter than people give us credit for."

You know he's right. People underestimate both you and Jake. Everyone assumes he's nothing but a pretty face and toned muscles. That you're just his pilot girlfriend, seduced by his Southern charm and the fact that he's good in bed.

It seems like a challenge, now. You want to do this. You want to see if you can get away with it. You're already on the precipice of losing everything - why not go out with a bang?

"How would we do it?" you ask, leaning in closer to the blonde man next to you.

He thinks for a moment, running his fingers up and down your bare thighs.

"I say we make it look like a suicide. Shoot him in the head and frame it so it looks self inflicted."

You nod, processing.

"I think we should hold him at gunpoint first. Get him to write a confession, some sort of letter. That way, there's no confusion as to what happened."

"You're a genius," Jake grins, dipping down to kiss you.

He slips his tongue into your mouth effortlessly, sighing when he tastes himself from earlier. You straddle his waist and tangle your fingers into his hair, desperate to be close to him.

Both of you are high on adrenaline, buzzed on the anticipation of what's to come.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

I know places

Murder isn't as hard as you thought it'd be.

Careful planning. Airtight alibis. Reassurance and recon.

You and Jake have created the perfect crime.

The two of you show up to The Admiral's office on an evening you know he'll be working late. He's doing paperwork when you arrive.

You walk in first. Jake follows, and locks the door behind him.

The Admiral goes to speak, but you silence him with a handgun pointed at his chest.

"Speak, and you die."

He doesn't say another word.

Jake takes the gun from your hand and walks around the desk, pressing it into his superiors temple.

"We need a couple of things from you," he begins. "Just a favour or two."

The Admiral is sweating, pale and rigid. He looks scared. It sends a rush of adrenaline through you. You're enjoying this. Jake is too, judging by the beaming grin on his face.

"Grab a pen, and some paper. We're about to do some creative writing."

Jake orchestrates the letter. Gets him to write exactly what you need. Notes down the brutality, the arrogance, the abuse of power. He makes him recount every incident, not just yours. You're there for what feels like hours, as his shaky hands move the pen across the paper.

Finally, he finishes. Dots the I's and crosses the T's. Jake chuckles.

"Wonderful. And for the last part of this joyous evening were having together, my girlfriend is gonna shoot you."

The Admiral chokes on his breath. Looks to you with fear in his eyes. Finally, you think. He understands how it felt.

He goes to open his mouth, but you stop him.

"Don't beg. Don't plead. It's pathetic."

"We made up our mind weeks ago," Jake adds. "You're not going to deter us now."

You smile at your boyfriend, giddy over the way he's protecting you, saving you, loving you.

"I'm going to enjoy this," you whisper.

You take the gun from Jake and press it to The Admiral's temple. You know the silencer will muffle the noise - you really have thought of everything.

You click off the safety, and lean down so your mouth is next to his ear.

"This is for all of the women you hurt."

You pull the trigger.

He dies instantly.

Lights flash and we'll run for the fences

Let them say what they want, we won't hear it

Loose lips sink ships all the damn time

Not this time

In another life, you and Jake could have been actors.

You're all called into the briefing room the next day, gathered together in confusion.

Admiral Simpson stands in front of your class - pale as a sheet, dark circles bruised under his eyes.

"There's been a situation, and we want you to hear it from us," he begins. "I ask that you all keep this to yourselves, where possible. Don't talk to any media, don't gossip, don't spread rumours. Understood?"

When you all nod, he continues.

"The Admiral is dead."

The room goes silent. Jake's hand finds yours under the table. To anyone on the outside, it looks like a boyfriend supporting his girlfriend. To you, it's something different.

It feels like time stands still. The world stops turning, suspending you in the present moment. Eventually, Rooster speaks.

"What happened?"

Beau clears his throat, swiping his hand over his face.

"He took his own life."

There are whispers now, hushed and clipped. Everyone is in a state of shock and confusion. Everyone, except for you and the blonde man next to you. He squeezes your hand tightly, refusing to let go.

"Of course, there will be an investigation. But, it seems pretty obvious to us what happened. If anyone in this room has been effected by the actions of The Admiral that have come to light... please, speak to me, or any other of your superiors. Thank you. "

He exits the room, leaving all of you in palpable silence.

"What the fuck?" Payback mutters. "What did he mean, 'actions that have come to light?'"

"There's rumours," Phoenix begins. "He had a... soft spot, for young female pilots. People have been whispering about it for months."

Suddenly, all eyes are on you. You're the only other woman in the room besides Natasha, and she clearly wasn't involved.

"Did he ever... try anything with you, Ivy?"

"No," you're quick to answer. "No. Thank God."

The room breathes a collective sigh of relief.

If only they knew.

they take their shots, but we're bulletproof I know places

and you know for me, it's always you I know places

in the dead of night, your eyes so green I know places

and I know for you, it's always me I know places

A month later, you snap.

Jake comes home to find you frantically shoving clothes into a duffel bag, sweat dripping down your back.

"Baby," he tries, cautious, like he's approaching a spooked animal. "Baby."

You turn to face him with wild eyes, fear radiating off you.

"What's wrong, angel?"

You look at him incredulously.

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong? We killed someone, Jake! That's what's wrong!"

"He wasn't a good guy."

"That doesn't matter. That doesn't make it right."

He cradles your face in his hands, eyes never leaving yours.

"Talk to me. What's going on? You've been okay. We've been okay. I thought we were processing, moving forward."

"I was. And then today, I just... can't. It was murder, Jake. Premeditated murder."

"Listen to me," he demands, tilting your chin up so your eyes are level. "He was an awful, awful man. The world is a better place without him. We saved so many women from a horrible fate, baby. We did a good thing."

You inhale carefully, and exhale a shaky breath, leaning up to press a kiss to his bitten lips.

"Yeah?" you ask, unsure. "We did save people, didn't we?"

"We wouldn't have done it without just reason, baby. We're good people, you and I. We both know we are."

You nod, looking for any signs of insecurity in his eyes. You don't find a single speck.

"You're right. Fuck, you're right. Sorry if I scared you, Jake."

"You scared me because I thought you were leaving me," he chuckles. "Wondered what I did wrong."

"Nothing," you're quick to reassure, tangling tracing your fingertips over the features of his face in a featherlight touch. "My God, Jake. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. You're it for me. You're my forever."

Jake leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly and surely. It's as if he's telling you everything he feels without using any words. He pulls you into him, winding his arms around your back and tugging you closer.

"I've got you, baby. No matter what happens. It's me and you, always. I love you."

"I love you too, Seresin. Always."

They are the hunters, we are the foxes

And we run

Just grab my hand and don't ever drop it

My love

"Let's run away."

You're taking off your shoes by the door when Jake comes bounding down the stairs, buzzing with energy.

"Hmm?"

"Let's run away, baby. You and me. The open road. We can go anywhere we want."

"Jake," you laugh. "Are you drunk? What's happening?"

"Not drunk. My head's clearer than it has ever been. I've been thinking, while you were gone."

"Thinking about...?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning up to kiss his rosy lips.

"Getting out of here. This place is full of bad memories and old ghosts. We can start afresh somewhere new."

"Like where?"

"Anywhere. Literally anywhere. We don't even have to stay in America. We could go to Europe, Australia, Canada? The possibilities are actually endless."

"What's triggered this?" you murmur. "You okay?"

"I'm always okay when I'm with you," he smiles. "But.... I can just feel it, you know? I can feel everything piling up. There's a weight on my shoulders, and on yours too. We can let that go. I know we can."

"You're right, about the weight. I haven't relaxed in months."

Jake slides his hands under your shirt, tracing his fingers up and down the bare skin of your back.

"I know," he murmurs against your lips. "I think there's something better out there for us."

"Where would we go? Like, serious talk, what are our options?"

"I know places," he winks.

"What places, Jake?" you try to chide, but you're smiling.

"We can go to my mom's, first, in Texas. Just to touch base. From there, I mean it when I say literally anywhere, baby. Wherever you wanna go, we can go. You've always wanted to go to Italy, right? We could go there. Or I have a high school friend in Perth - we could go there."

"I wanna go somewhere with good food. Kind people. Beautiful views. A little sunshine wouldn't hurt either."

He's grinning at you, white and blinding. His excitement is contagious, settling into your bones.

"Imagine it, baby. Me and you, on the beach all day. We could surf, swim, go grab some lunch, then surf and swim some more. Go home, make dinner, sit out in the yard and listen to the ocean waves. Do it all again the next day."

You can't wipe the smile off your face, practically bouncing on the soles of your feet.

"Okay."

Jake stops in his tracks, still and rigid.

"Really?"

"Really. We can go right now, Jake. I don't wanna be here any longer."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Fuck, I love you. Let's pack our shit and go, baby."

Jake kisses you with fervour, dipping you backwards like you're in a movie. You squeal, gripping the nape of his neck for balance. He picks you up and spins you around, twirling you like a fairytale.

"What about everyone here?" you ask, forehead pressed to Jake's.

"We'll miss them, and they'll miss us, but we'll all be okay."

He's right. These people are your family, but they'll understand. You have to do what's best for you.

"Do you really wanna go as soon as we can?"

"Yeah, Jake. I meant it. We can start packing right now."

He wraps his arms around your middle and carries you upstairs, throwing the closet doors open while you grab your suitcase.

Baby, I know places we won't be found and

They'll be chasing their tails trying to track us down

'Cause I, I know places we can hide

I know places

The sun beats down on your skin, warming you up from the outside in. There's a breeze whipping through your hair, carrying salt from the ocean into the car. The sunroof is down, allowing you to breathe in the fresh air.

Jake's hand slides across the centre console and onto your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your bare skin.

"You okay?"

He's looking over at you, taking his eyes off the road for a split second.

"I'm good, baby."

He smiles, the grin reaching every feature of his face, lighting him up.

You've been on the road for months, stopping and starting however and whenever you please. A motel here, a beach apartment there. You've lost count of how many states you've travelled through, collecting postcards in each one.

You'll settle down, eventually. You've been making a list of your favourite places you've visited, ranking them as you go. You'll most likely buy a place in your top choice. But not yet.

For now, you're content with the open road. The convertible car, all your belongings in a suitcase in the trunk, roof down at every opportunity. You like not staying in one place for too long. It weirdly suits you.

Jake's never looked happier. He glows, smile lines creasing the corner of his eyes. He laughs so often, and you never get tired of the sound.

You glance down to the golden band on your left hand, smiling softly.

"What are you thinking about?" your husband asks, squeezing your thigh.

"Vegas," you beam. "Never did I think I'd be married by an Elvis impersonator in a bright blue chapel."

"I'm the epitome of class, baby. You know this."

Both of you are grinning, chuckling gently.

"We did the right thing. Leaving."

"Yeah, we did. I'm glad I believed what you said."

"What did I say?"

"That you knew places."

He traces a love heart on your skin with his thumb, over and over again.

"Told you, baby. I know places."

#1989TGM #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader fluff #jake seresin x reader angst #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick fluff #top gun maverick #top gun maverick angst #top gun maverick smut #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman smut #hangman angst

[topguncortez]

Dead On Your Feet || Whumptober Day 9 - J. Seresin

whumptober masterlist || whumptober taglist

synopsis: you were born with the family flaw that left you missing a part and scared

word count: 4.2k

@ailesswhumptober prompt: scar reveal

Warnings: heart transplant, mentions of scars, teasing, unwanted sexual contact, mentions of sexual assault.

You were only a mere hours old the first time you had open heart surgery. They had whisked you away from your mother’s warm embrace, heading straight into the cold, sterile field of the operating room to try and fix a heart defect. It had been successful, but the doctors told your family that it wasn’t the end. 

“The family flaw,” Your mother said to you, as she combed through your hair one night. You hated how matted your hair got when you would have hospital stays, “Your granddad had it, I have it, and I passed it to you.” She placed a kiss on your forehead, “You’ll get through this. And live a happy, healthy life.” 

And she was right. 

You had your first-ever heart transplant at twelve years old. You couldn’t remember much before that surgery. You could remember not being able to go play with your siblings. You could remember your parents crying when talking to the doctors outside of your hospital. You could remember your mom praying and telling God how awful she felt for asking for a heart for you, knowing that it would mean some other child had to die. You also remember asking the doctor if it was going to leave a scar. 

“There will be a scar, it’ll go down the center of your chest,” The doctor said, making a straight line from the top of your sternum to about halfway down your chest, “You’ll be able to cover it up.” 

The surgery had been successful, you came out of it with flying colors. It was a bit odd to think about at twelve years old, how you had some stranger’s heart beating inside your body. Your parents didn’t like to talk about it, but you wanted to know about the heart you got. Who did it belong to? Were they a boy or a girl? How old were they? Did their parents wish for someone else to die to save them? 

You never had any reason to be ashamed of your scar. Sure, it was ugly and jagged and pink. Your doctor had told you that the cuts were all clean and that everything would heal nicely in due time. Your parents told you it was your battle scar, and to wear it with pride. And of course, at twelve years old, you thought it was cool. How many kids your age had battle scars? You loved it when you got to go back to school and bring the surgical photos that the doctor had given you. Everyone thought you were pretty cool when you showed them the top of your scar, the part that peaked out just above your shirt collar. 

But then, you grew up. Puberty happened. Girls were suddenly obsessed with their looks and the attention of the guys. Just like many girls, you went through that stage of staring at yourself in the mirror for too long. Spending more time than necessary on your hair and make-up just to go to the pool one hot summer day. But it was the summer before sophomore year of high school, everyone knew it was the summer to make an impression. You had gotten through that awkward first year of high school where everyone was trying to figure out how their new bodies worked, and how to properly use body spray. You had gotten your braces off at the end of the school year and finally knew how to straighten your hair without frying it. 

Your friend, Julie called to tell you that the football players were going to be at the pool after practice. You rode your bike to the local pool, meeting your friends and finding the perfect spot where you’d get the most sun and the boys would have to walk right by. You didn’t even think about how your scar would be on display with the two-piece baby blue swimsuit you picked out until you pulled your shirt over your head and heard a squeal. 

“Y/N! Your skin!” Julie gasped. 

You quickly pulled your shirt down and looked at her confused, “What? Do I have backne?” 

“No,” She whispered, “Your scar. . . I thought it would be like. . .I don’t know. . .not like that.” 

“Like what?” You asked, your eyebrows pinched in confusion. 

“It’s kind of fugly,” Laniey said, with a snort. Laniey was drop-dead gorgeous, with long beautiful legs and tan skin on display. She had hit puberty first and wore it with a badge of honor as she fixed her swimsuit top to make her breasts perk up. 

“No, it’s not,” You scoffed, “It’s a battle-” 

“No one is gonna wanna make out with the freak who has a dead person’s heart in their chest,” Lainey shrugged, putting her earbuds in her ears. You looked over at Julie, who gave you a sympathetic shrug, before sitting down in her own chair. 

You wanted to cry as you sat down next to Julie, your oversized t-shirt still on your body. The football boys passed by, smiling and winking at Julie and Lainey, but they seemed to chuckle and shake their heads when they looked at you. You suddenly felt like you were put back into the box you were in freshman year. The box of band geek with braces, the one who couldn’t run for more than 10 minutes before getting winded. The one who had a heart transplant at age twelve and had an ugly scar running down their chest. You wished that your boobs had grown big enough to cover it up, but you weren’t blessed in that department like your friends. 

You had given up being noticed by any of the football guys until one sauntered in. His hair was the perfect shade of gold, the sun making it seem like he had a halo around his head. His skin was perfectly sunkissed, and he looked like he didn’t have a single pound of body fat on him. Julie and Lainey seemed to know who he was as they both sat up a bit in their sunchairs, fussing with their hair and pushing their chests out. 

Unlike the other guys, this one paid no attention to Julie and Lainey as he walked by, noticing the empty lounger next to you. You held your breath as he set his towel down on the empty lounger. His body was clad in baby pink swim trunks and a white tank top, barely hiding his ripped abdomen. Oh, how you wish that you could have a flat stomach like that. A scarless body like that. 

“See something you like, sweetheart?” He asked you, snapping you out of your trance. You hadn’t even realized you were staring at him. Your cheeks instantly flushed at his words as you turned to look back towards the pool. He chuckled as he shucked off his tanktop, and tossed it down on the chair, “I don’t mind, sweetheart. You’re not too bad yourself.” 

“Thank you,” You muttered, playing with your fingers and trying to hide the fact that all the blood in your body had rushed to your cheeks. He winked at you, before turning and running towards the pool, doing a flawless dive into the cold water. 

“Jesus Christ, Jake Seresin is fucking hot,” Julie swooned as he broke the surface of the water, the droplets running down his chiseled chest. All you could do was nod your head, sparing a glance in his direction as he met up with his football friends. He had a smile on his face that would make girls weak in their knees. 

“Yeah. . . I call dibs,” Lainey smirked. She looked over at you, “Y/N, switch me spots.” 

“Why?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Because,” Lainey rolled her eyes, “He’s the type who doesn’t want damaged goods. Now switch me.” You did so wordlessly, grabbing your things and moving to where Lainey sat, “You’ll thank me later. I’m saving you from embarrassment.” 

You never did go back to the pool with Julie and Lainey again after that day. Hell, you hardly even talked to them for the rest of high school after that day. Maybe Lainey did do you a favor, as she ended up dating Jake Seresin off and on for the last three years of high school. Julie ended up with a football player as well. The final straw for you and your friendship with them was when they tried to pair you up with a football player during your senior year of high school. You knew what his end goal was when you had shown up to the party that night. 

All you wanted to do was hang out with your friends before senior year pulled you in different directions. You had somehow been roped into playing seven minutes in heaven, Lainey’s idea. You spun the bottle, your heart hoping that it would land on Jake, but it landed on Toby Mitchell, a total sleazebag. 

“C-can I skip?” You asked, your hands shaking. 

“Nope!” Lainey shook her head, “Rules are rules.” 

“C’mon Lainey,” Jake pleaded, “She doesn’t have to.” 

Lainey looked at Jake confused, “And who are you to dictate the game? She spun the bottle, it landed on Toby, she has to go fuck him in the closet.” 

“I’ll be gentle, baby girl,” Toby winked at you and you felt nauseous. 

“Y/N,” Jake called your name softly, catching your attention, “You seriously don’t have-” 

“Yes she does,” Lainey demanded, “You can’t go to college a virgin.” 

“Shit! Even better!” Toby hollered, clapping his hands together. 

Your face was turning red and you wanted to cry as all eyes were on you. But you were only looking at Jake, his green eyes soft and pleading with you to not go into that closet with Toby. Lainey looked between the two of you, the feeling of jealousy growing in her body. She smirked as she climbed into Jake’s lap, straddling him and planting a sloppy kiss on his lips. The crowd of drunk teenagers around them cheered as Lainey dry-humped Jake in front of everyone. You felt your heartbreak as Jake’s hands wrapped around her. 

You knew having a crush on your friend’s boyfriend was stupid, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

Except, maybe one thing. 

You willed your eyes away from Lainey and Jake to look at Toby. You stood up and stuffed your hands into your back pockets. 

“Let’s go,” You mumbled, nodding your head towards the closet that other couples had gone into during the game. Toby scrambled up from his spot, and grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the closet. 

“Get it, Toby!” Someone yelled as Jake broke away from his kiss. He looked over to the closet just in time to see it shut behind you. 

“Holy shit, she’s doing it,” Lainey laughed and looked over at Julie, “Pay up, bitch.” 

But the seven minutes in heaven didn’t even last seven minutes. You hated the way Toby kissed you, too rough and with too much tongue. He pushed you up against the wall forcefully, making your back throb. He didn’t even ask permission before pushing his hand into your pants. You froze as he touched you, his mouth placing disgusting wet kisses on your neck. You tried to bite back the tears that rimmed your eyes as he pushed a finger into you. His other hand pushed up your shirt, roughly grabbing your breast. You had always imagined your first time, and it was nothing like this. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to imagine that you were anywhere else than here when you felt his fingers touch your scar. 

“What the fuck?” He mumbled, pulling away from your neck. He pulled his hand out of your pants, and pulled up your shirt, exposing your scar, “What the fuck?” He said again, “The hell is wrong with you?” 

“N-Nothing,” You said, “I had surgery when I was a-” 

“You’re the chick with the dead person’s heart!” He laughed, “Fuck, Lainey was right, you are a freak.” 

“I am not-” 

“It’s okay baby girl, I like my girls a bit freaky,” Toby gave you a disgusting smirk as he leaned back in to try and kiss you. Your fight or flight took over as you rammed your knee in between his legs, “Fuck!” He groaned out, cupping himself as he doubled over. You quickly pushed past him and opened the door. All eyes snapped to you as you stood there, wild hair and your pants undone. 

“I-” 

“This bitch is a freak!” Toby yelled. The whole house erupted in laughter as everyone pointed fingers at you. Tears clouded your vision, as you quickly made your way out the front door. You didn’t even bother to grab your bike, choosing to walk home instead. The words that Toby and Lainey said filled your mind as you cried the whole way home. 

— — — 

That night almost a decade ago, never left the deep dark parts of your mind. You still remember the feeling of Toby’s hands on your body and the crude words he spoke to you. That whole interaction was enough to push you away from all forms of intimacy. You were now 27, still a virgin, never had a boyfriend, and your first kiss was still Toby Mitchell from that stupid back-to-school party. 

After graduation, you decided to get as far as you possibly could from Texas. Your mother cried as you packed up your car. You were their baby, and they had almost lost you once before. Now, seeing you move out, was worse than watching you in a hospital bed. You promised to call them every other day and come home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You remember watching their figures fade in the distance of your rearview mirror as you hit the road. 

The road took you to California, and from there you found North Island. You didn’t know the first thing about living in a military community, but you found a welcoming family in a local bar and its owner. Penny Benjamin all but rescued you from the streets, offering you your first-ever job. She was a bit weary at first, but you proved your worth quickly. In a short amount of time, you became one of her best servers and one of her closest friends. When you weren’t working at the bar, you were babysitting or tutoring Amelia. Penny had helped you move into your first house, and always invited you over for Sunday dinners. 

The bar was exceptionally busy on this Friday night. Penny had told you that some new squadron had arrived for a mission. You had come to know quite a bit about the Navy and the Aviators. You could tell an ensign from an admiral just by looking at them. 

You were standing with your back to the bar when he came in. His green eyes surveyed the place as he stood in the entryway. Javy had been the one to suggest going to get drinks tonight to celebrate their first night in North Island. His friend clapped him on the back as they made their way to the bar. 

“What can I get you?” You heard Penny ask someone as you were restocking glasses. 

“Two Budweisars,” The glass in your hand almost slipped out of your grip at the sound of his voice. You turned around and came eye to eye with those beautiful green eyes. 

“Jake,” You breathed out. 

“Holy shit,” He smiled, “Y/N?” You nodded your head, a small smile crawling on your face, “How long have you been here?” Jake asked, sitting down on a barstool. 

“How long have we been out of high school?” You asked with a smile. 

“Damn,” Jake flashed you that smile that always made you weak, “Look at you. All grown up and out on your own.” 

“I’ve done nothing compared to you Lieutenant Seresin.” 

“You flatter me, sweetheart,” Jake winked at you. You couldn’t help the blush that arose on your cheeks. 

“Alright, Hangman,” Penny said, coming to graciously save you before you said anything to embarrass yourself, “How about you stop flirting with my best server.” 

Jake held his hands up in defense, “I apologize, dear. I’m a sucker for a pretty girl with a pretty smile.” 

“Yeah, yeah, shoo,” Penny playfully rolled her eyes and shooed Jake away. 

“You wound me,” Jake said as he grabbed his beer and walked back to his friends. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfect ass as he walked away. 

Penny looked at you, a knowing smirk on her face as you glanced over your shoulder at her. She wiggled her eyebrows up and down, and you scoffed. You gently whacked her with your bar towel, making the woman laugh as she walked back over to the other side of the bar. You couldn’t help but take a glance to where Jake was at with his friends, and noticed him looking back at you. You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile as you went back to looking down at the bartop. 

You had never been happier in your life to call the last call. The bar had been packed and busy all night with new crew members flocking to North Island for this new mission. Friday Nights were always your good nights, but this night left you exhausted. You had finished polishing and putting all the glasses away when you heard the bell above the door jingle. 

You groaned, “We’re closed!” You yelled. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” You quickly turned around at the sound of that sweet southern voice. Jake stood there, still in his khakis and with a soft smile on his face, “Came to see if maybe I could get one last drink.” 

“We’re clos-” 

“A drink won’t hurt,” Penny said, walking out of the kitchen, “After the night you had, you deserve one.” 

“Okay, let me just,” You reached for your tips envelope but Penny snatched it, “Penny.” 

“On the house,” She smiled, “And if you so much as leave money on the bar, I’ll put it right into your paycheck.” You narrowed your eyes at her as she handed you back your envelope, “Have a good night, kids!” She turned quickly on her heel and walked back the way she had appeared. 

You let out a shaky breath and turned back towards Jake, “Budweiser?” He nodded and sat down on a barstool. You poured him his beer and made a vodka lemonade for yourself. 

It was truly just supposed to be one drink. But then one drink turned into two, and two turned into three, and three turned into you walking with Jake back to your house. Jake watched as you talked animatedly about going on a sailing trip with Penny where she let you steer for the first time. You had never felt anything like it in your life as you felt the cool, crisp breeze from the saltwater on your skin. You imagined if you could fly, that’s what sailing would feel like. 

“This is me,” You slurred a bit, as you pointed to the cute white cottage with a purple-painted door. Jake smiled, noticing the small touch that reminded him of his hometown. 

“Just like your parents’” Jake nodded, and pushed open the small front gate, inviting himself to walk up the sidewalk towards the house, “It was always my favorite house on my paper route. Your dog, what was his name, the one that everyone always called a mop.” 

“Alfred,” You replied. 

“Yeah, Alfred,” Jake smiled, “He’d always come down and take the newspaper from me and run it back to the house.” 

“Dad taught him how to go fetch beers out of the fridge in the garage,” You laughed, “He was quite the sight.” A palpable silence fell over the two of you, as you fiddled with your thumbs and looked up at your house. You weren’t quite sure what to do. You had never gotten this far before. But before you could even open your mouth to invite Jake in, he answered the question for you. 

“I’m gonna get going, I just wanted to make sure you were home-” 

“Come in with me?” You blurt out. Instant red filled your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at Jake. You thought your dumb high-school crush had gone away, but here it was back to slap you in the face, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-” 

“I’d love to,” Jake answered for you. You smiled at him and held your hand out, which he generously took. You led him up the small walkway to your front door. Your parents would kill you if they knew you left your front door unlocked when you weren’t home, but you grew up in a small town, and habits were hard to break. 

“This is it,” You said, looking over your shoulder as you walked into the house, “It’s not a lot but it’s-” You were cut off by Jake’s lips on yours, backing you up against the front door. 

You hesitated for a second, your brain trying to figure out if this was actually happening or if this was another one of your dreams. Your hands went to his hair, pulling gently on the soft locks that you had dreamed of. He tasted of beer and the mint gum he had been chewing on the whole walk home. His hands found your waist, one going to cup your backside and the other gently pushing up your shirt. It was when his hand touched your bare stomach, that the dream bubble came crashing down. 

“No one is gonna wanna make out with the freak who has a dead person’s heart in their chest,”

 “The hell is wrong with you?” 

“You’re the chick with the dead person’s heart!”

“This bitch is a freak!”

“Stop,” You said as you felt Jake’s lips on your neck, “Stop. Stop! Stop!” You pushed him off of you frantically, as tears clouded your vision. You pushed off of the door and paced into the living room, wiping at the tears on your cheeks. Jake took a couple of steps back, his eyes flashing with a bit of disappointment and then concern, as he looked you over from head to toe. You righted your shirt and took deep breaths trying to stop your pounding heart. 

“Are you okay?” Jake asked, keeping his hands splayed out in front of him, “I’m sorry, I thought that. . .I just that you. . . I thought. . .” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair, “I’m not sure what I thought, but I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” You said softly. You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry that I led you on, that was not my-” 

“No, no, no,” Jake shook his head, “Do not apologize for something you didn’t do. I was the one who jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry for making this weird and awkward.” He looked at you for a moment, and then hung his head, “I’m just gonna-” He nodded his head towards the door. 

“Wait,” You said, reaching out to him. Your heart was still beating fast as you looked into his eyes. Those same green eyes that had watched you walk into the closet ten years ago. Those same green eyes that always looked into yours when he talked to you, and never at the scar that peeked out of the top of your shirt. Those same green eyes that you had fallen in love with all those years ago. 

You let go of Jake’s arm and took a step back from him. Your fingers grabbed the hem of your shirt, and you peeled it over your head, leaving you in your bra in the middle of your living room. You let out a shaky breath as Jake’s eyes trailed from yours to the scar in the middle of your chest. 

“I know. . .” You swallowed, “It’s ugly.” 

Jake took a small step forward, looking at you for permission to get closer. You nodded your head and he took another step, so he was basically chest to chest with you. Ever so slowly, he lifted his hand to the scar, his middle and pointer fingers touching it lightly. You gasped at the feeling of his skin against yours. 

“Does it hurt?” He whispered. 

You shook your head, “No. It’s just. . . No one has touched me, well except my doctors, but. . . no one has touched me like this.” 

Jake nodded again and proceeded with the utmost care as he ran his fingers down the jagged skin. 

“When? When did you get this? Jake asked, looking into your eyes. 

“I was twelve,” You answered, “My mom calls it the family flaw. Open heart surgery when I was a couple of hours old, and then a transplant at 12. . . I’ve always had this ugly sc-” 

“Who said it was ugly?” Jake basically growled. 

You gulped, “Everyone. Toby, Lainey-” 

Jake scoffed, “They’re wrong. So fucking wrong. This-” He touched your scar again gently, “Is powerful. It shows you’re a fighter. It’s power and beauty.” 

You felt tears in your eyes as Jake gently cupped your face. He wiped tears away from your cheeks and placed a soft kiss on where the tears once fell.  

“I should’ve told you before,” Jake whispered, running his thumb over the apple of your cheeks, “I wish I was as strong as you to tell you before that you’re beautiful. You’re everything.” 

“Jake,” You sighed and melted into his touch, “Take me upstairs.” 

You watched as a glint of lust filled Jake’s eyes, as he took your hand and led you to your bedroom.

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[callsigncherub]

To love and be loved.

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

Warnings: Fluff, smut, ANGST, pregnancy, loss of pregnancy, major character death, drunk driving.

Word count: 4.6k

This is a very angsty piece so 18+ minors DNI.

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. And he was okay with that. He grew up knowing the damage it causes losing the one person you love the most, he saw it first-hand. He saw what his mother had to go through and how difficult it was to be in so much pain but carry on in life. Working, paying the bills, and having the responsibility of a child was challenging enough, but doing all of that whilst grieving was something he could never begin to comprehend. And something he would never want to put someone through.

Nevertheless, he had a great childhood. Living in a small, white beach house along the coast with his mother, he has fond memories of growing up. Baking cakes on Sundays and licking the batter off the spoon, singing corny 80s songs in the car with his mother on the way to school and building model planes with Mav. He had a lot of friends growing up, he was surrounded by love. But Bradley always felt like a part of him was missing. His father.

His mother always told him stories about his father. With Bradley sat across her lap outside on the porch swing, flicking through several photo albums and fiddling with a picture of the three of them when Bradley was born, she would tell him about how they met and fell in love, how much he loved flying with Mav, the family holidays they went on when Bradley was a young child, how Goose nearly passed out when Bradley was born, and how much Goose absolutely adored his son.

At first, Bradley loved hearing these stories, he used to beg his mother to tell him more, but as he entered his early teens, all he felt was anger.

It all started when he woke up one morning to make grab his mother a tea and noticed his father’s favourite mug still at the back of the cupboard, slightly dusty and derelict. He wondered what it was still doing there if no one had been or was going to use it. The next week he was clearing out the attic looking for things to sell so he could save up for the latest CD player when he came across a box with ‘Nick and Carole’ scribbled along its side, filled with old videos, wedding pictures, his mother’s wedding dress and an album entirely dedicated to his father’s journey of being a naval aviator. But underneath all of the memories held in this box were a pair of boots and a khaki uniform.

A few days after finding the box in the attic, he was on his way out to school when his mother noticed his sweater was getting a bit too tight on him and handed him one of his fathers and when he came home, he found a pile of clothes on his bed that he could only assume also belonged to his father. Curiously, Bradley found himself eyeing the pile of shorts and sweaters when a bright yellow caught his eye and he rummaged through the pile, only to pull out the ugliest looking Hawaiian print shirt he’s ever seen.

“Your father loved that shirt. God, you look so much like him Bradley.’ His mother said, standing at the doorway with tear filled eyes.

Bradley lay awake in bed that night hit with an irrepressible amount of emotion, surprised that despite his father passing whilst he was so young, he could remember so much. He thought about the mug, and how his father would drink his coffee from it every day at breakfast, Bradley sat on his knee eating bacon and eggs and his mother ranting about how she doesn’t understand how he could drink black coffee and enjoy it. He remembered waiting on the front porch every day for his father to return home from work and hearing the same uniform he found a week ago, he remembered the sound that those exact boots would make walking up the steps to their home and the joy he felt to see his father. And as Bradley sat up in bed, mind running 100 miles per hour he caught the vibrant shirt hanging on the back of his desk chair and caught the memory of their last family holiday together. The holiday where he built sandcastles with his father, went swimming in the ocean with his mother, it was their final moment of happiness before disaster struck.

For a moment, Bradley smiled with fondness at the thought of his father. But the grief that came after his momentary happiness hit him at full force, like a punch to the gut. He was hit with the realisation that he’d never see his father drink from that mug again, he’d never hear the clunk of those boots walking up the front porch after a long day at work, he’d never see his father wearing his collection of ridiculous Hawaiian shirts again. And at that, he struggled to understand why he was only now beginning to feel this way.

The funny thing with grief is, it never truly goes away. It comes and goes. Sometimes, some days, it’s easier to handle but other days it’s a tough pill to swallow and Bradley was angry at how much time he already lost with his father and how for the rest of his life, there’s always going to be a part of him that’s empty.

So, Bradley spent his teens in a much more reckless way than his mother thought was natural. The late nights, the disobedience, the parties, the girls, coming home high early hours of the morning because he couldn’t face the way he felt.

In all honesty it broke his mother’s heart, and he could see that. It hurt him to hurt her, but there was something that held him back from ever being able to change and truth be told, he was terrified. Maybe it was the fact that it was easier to run away from how he felt rather than face it head on, or maybe it was self-preservation – that if he pushed his mother away then he would hurt less. He felt the burden of being his mother’s only child. Everything she went through whilst having a son to look after as well. And if anything were to happen to his mother, he thought maybe it would be easier to cope. But deep-down Bradley thought that if he followed in his father’s footsteps of joining the Navy, maybe he’d feel that little bit closer to him. Maybe he wouldn’t be so self-destructive. Just maybe, he would make his parents proud.

There are a lot of things Bradley regrets in his life and the way he acted over his teens was one of them. He wanted forgiveness for the amount of time he missed out on because of his incessant need to prove a point he couldn’t even understand until he did. He would be better off alone, forever.

At 18 Bradley lost his mother to a gruelling bout of breast cancer. It was the most difficult thing Bradley had ever gone through in his life. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that she was gone, that he would never see her face again, sing along in the car with her, feel her warm embrace. And to this day, he still remembers the last thing she ever said to him, lying in the hospice where she took her last breath, a long night of waiting ahead of him.

“Bradley, your father loved you so much. I love you so much. Make us proud, my beautiful boy.”

Those were the last words he heard his mother speak, but he could see in her eyes that she forgave him, that every word she’d just said was meant with the truest of intentions and enough love to conquer the world.

After that day, Bradley made it his life’s purpose to serve his country by joining the US navy. His life consisted of his F-18, ready meals, drinks at the Hard Deck and returning home to the barracks – alone. He didn’t fall in love, he never allowed himself to. Sure, he’s had hook-ups in the past, he’d had girls tell him they loved him, but not once had he ever said it back with meaning or said it back at all. He was okay with being alone, because he had no obligations, he wasn’t important to anyone and he was happy with it being that way because he prefers being by himself rather than forcing a love and marriage and kids – pretending to be a person that he isn’t, when he knows it’ll only be temporary.

What is there to lose?

That’s a simple enough question that Bradley thought he knew the answer to. Nothing, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No wife, no children, not even a pet.

But then he met the most beautiful soul and something in him couldn’t quite stay away.

The Hard Deck was always busy on a Friday night, but this one night in particular was jam packed. Celebratory drinks were held for the success of the Uranium Mission and Bradley, though ecstatic that the mission was over, and that he was alive, couldn’t shake the feeling of misery that he felt deep down for realising just how precious life is and how he’s only getting older – and lonelier. He never thought his perspective on how he would spend the rest of his life would change and so he sat at the bar, beer in hand wallowing in self-pity. Downing the rest of his beer, Bradley stood up and slammed some cash on the bar ready to call it a night, about to head off towards the door before colliding against the bar with a thud.

Bradley groaned at the impact, not in the mood to deal with anything else tonight that could worsen the foul mood he was already in.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You screeched, looking up at him with alerted eyes, cheeks flushed a rosy tint – partly out of embarrassment, and partly from the alcohol you’d consumed, meeting up with your friends from work after a busy week.

As soon as he heard your voice, he didn’t need to look down at you to know that you’d be the most beautiful woman he’s ever met in his life. But still, he couldn’t help himself and as his eyes met yours, he immediately knew wanted you. He wanted you in every way possible. Everything already felt so different. Too stunned to speak, and his mind blank, you were perfect to him.

Now, Bradley didn’t believe in fate, and he certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, at least not until the night he met you. But that all changed so fast, and Bradley found himself sat at the bar with you until closing, drinking beer after beer – misery long forgotten and the beginnings of the most beguiling relationship starting to bloom.

The relationship progressed fast.

You both went on your first date a week later. It was simple, but perfect. Bradley picked you up from your apartment with a bunch of flowers, dressed in his father’s shirt - the same shirt he couldn’t bear to look at when he was younger. You answered the door in a white sundress, hair falling naturally around your shoulders with a bright smile on your face that had Bradley’s heart racing. After having to endure a 10-minute interrogation from your best friend, you followed Bradley out to his Bronco and drove down to the beach where you had a picnic and watched the sunset, lying on your backs next to each other on an old picnic blanket on the sand.

Your face mirrored his own, both of your hearts pounding against your chests, synchronised with one another. Hands shaking and smiling at each other through tight lips, breaths shallow, bodies vibrating. Eyes ablaze with a burning desire, thinking of all of the possibilities, reserved from seeming too eager to admit how both of you felt, feelings reciprocated. But knowing, you were it for each other.

About a month into your relationship with Bradley, one torturous month of being nagged by the squad on when they were going to meet you, but one incredible month spent with you, he took you to the Hard Deck to meet up with his friends for drinks. All was going well, and Bradley felt content in knowing you were already comfortable around the people he considered family.

“Bradshaw! You never told us your girl was that hot.” Hangman stood next to him, handing him the darts, a smirk on his face.

“Shut up Bagman, just because you lack the brain capacity to keep a girl around for more than a week.” Phoenix scoffed, slapping him on the chest before patting Bradley’s arm sympathetically.

Bradley knew to pay no mind to Jake, but as he watched you laughing with Bob and Javy by the bar in a pretty pink sundress, sipping on a cocktail too sweet for him to fathom, he couldn’t help but let the insecurities creep in. He felt like the luckiest man alive to be your boyfriend, and he was proud to call you his girlfriend, but he constantly carried that heavy burden of how he felt about himself with him. Sometimes he could supress it, put on a brave face and everyone sees him as the most confident person in whatever room he’s in. But Bradley could never truly talk about how he felt, every syllable of every word that’s willing its way out of his mouth, pushing his head further underwater – looking in the mirror and seeing the scars along his face and neck, carved into his skin like a malediction, something he was precariously wishing he could remove.

“Hey Roos, you okay?” Bradley didn’t even realise you’d made your way over to him until he heard your voice and felt your hand reach up to smooth over his hair, so transfixed on his inner thoughts.

He hummed, kissing your forearm, and then talking your free hand in his own. Just seeing your face with concern written all over it was enough for his heart to nearly burst out of his chest.

It was well past 1am when the Hard Deck closed for good, and Bradley led you out to his bronco and put your seatbelt on. Before he could move around to the driver’s side, you grabbed his shirt and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. “Thank you for tonight, I had a really nice time with your friends. Even though Jake’s a bit of a dick” Bradley chuckled “I’m glad you had a good time and I’m happy you’re happy. They all love you.” Bradley caught himself on his words after that. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you, how he knew he loved you from the moment he saw you and how he was certain he was going to spend the rest of his life loving you. Neither of you had said it yet, but you often found yourself wanting to say it too. You both drove home in a comfortable silence, Bradley’s hand resting gently on your thigh, the windows slightly ajar and the radio playing quietly but those three words had been hanging in the air, urging to be said the whole ride home.

Bradley parked up outside and you led him into your apartment. You both changed out of your clothes, and you threw on one of Bradleys old UVA shirts that he’d left at your place. “You coming to bed?” Bradley said quietly as he pulled you into a hug and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Yeah, I just need to take of my makeup and stuff.” You said pulling away to head towards the bathroom. “And stuff?” Bradley asked and you giggled. “Yeah, like skincare. Fancy joining me?” You asked and you shrieked when Bradley picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying in you into the bathroom and setting you down on the counter without saying a word. You washed your face and picked up your serums and moisturiser, talking Bradley through your skincare routine whilst he stared at you as if you had grown three heads. Bradley watched you squirt some of the serum onto your hand and rub it all over his face. He closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders, letting out a deep breath. It was his turn to apply it to your face next and by the end of the routine you were both a giggling mess, breaths heavy with laughter. And in that moment, Bradley forgot about his scars, he forgot about all of his insecurities. He was at his happiest with you, and in that moment, he knew he couldn’t wait any longer.

Still sat on the counter, you pulled Bradley closer and rested your forehead against his looking into his eyes with such a deep admiration for how truly beautiful he was.

“I love you, Bradley.”

And there it was. Those three simple words with the most powerful meaning. Bradley felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, winded like the time he fell off the slide in his backyard at six years old.

“Say that again.” Bradley murmured, hands tightening their grip on your waist.

“I love you, Bradley. So much.”

And with that, Bradley smashed his lips onto yours in a bruising kiss.

“Fuck, I love you. I love you.” He repeated, over and over again until you were back in your bedroom. Placing you down on your bed, he covered his body with yours. You moaned into the kiss and gasped as he left a trail of kisses down your neck and chest. He slipped his hand under the hem of your dress and began toying with the waistband of your underwear, when you sucked in a breath, he stopped immediately, brown eyes searching yours for any kind of discomfort.

“Do you want this? We can stop baby I really don’t mind.”

“No, I want this Bradley, I do.” You said and he made light work of pulling off your dress and ridding himself of his shirt and pants before kissing you again, hooking his fingers in your underwear and pulling them down your legs. Bradley teased your clit before sinking one of his digits into your soaked pussy and kissing your hip before taking your sensitive bud into his mouth. “Fuck Bradley.” You moaned, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he squeezed your him in a comforting encouragement. Gripping his hair tightly, your climax quickly approaching you moaned loudly “Oh my god I love you Bradley fuck!”

Coming down from your high, Bradley teased your folds with the head of his cock before slowly pushing himself fully into you and you both moaned. “You feel amazing, sweet girl, I love you.” Bradley moaned against your mouth, intertwining his hand with your own before slowly rocking his hips into your own. You were a mess underneath him, whimpering and whining and Bradley took a moment to admire how beautiful you looked, the moment was so raw, the only light in the room was the dim glow of the moon which illuminating your features.

It was at this moment that Bradley realised that the confessions of love shared that night were terrifying, and they scared him more than anything else he’s ever experienced in his life. The emotions he felt consumed his body like an entity and he knew that the easiest choice he’s ever made in his life was you. Out of all of the women in this world, he didn’t want anyone else as much as he wanted you, he didn’t need anyone else as much as he needed you. You both spent that night wrapped up in each other, bodies tangled between the sheets in a state of completion, reassurance, and love. There was nothing in the world that could ruin such a deep connection.

For the next three months of the relationship, Bradley knew he could see himself spending the rest of his life with you. Moving in together, he wanted to be your new home. He wanted to build a life with you, make four walls and a roof into something so much more than just a place of residence. He dreamt of waking up next to you every morning and falling asleep next to you every night. He wanted to help you cook your favourite foods together and he wanted to clean the dishes. He wanted to argue over where the candles were kept when there’s a storm and the power goes out. He wanted you to fill him with memories of your own, pictures of your graduation, you most treasured trinkets, the spicy books you read that he pokes fun at you for when you get defensive and say that you don’t read just porn, it has to have a plot.

After years of accepting the fact that he’d be alone because he could never have someone else endure the grief, the pain, and the suffering that he watched his mother go through, he met you, and he was irrevocably and deeply consumed by you. He dreamt of the day you had a child of your own together, the beach days, the baking, the singalongs in the car, babyproofing every corner of the house he wanted that. And he so desperately wanted that with you by his side.

And that’s exactly what you both did. You bought a house together along the coast, one that reminded him exactly of the house that he grew up in, with a big porch and a swing that hung just to the left of the front door. You both packed up your lives into those brown moving boxes, messy handwriting scrawled onto the side of each of them.

Unpacking said boxes in the height of summer was a gruelling task, but one that was made much more enjoyable by the presence of each other ands by the end of the day you both collapsed on the porch swing, happy and content in each other’s arms.

“I’ve never felt as happy anywhere else than when I’m with you sweet girl.” Bradley said, nuzzling his head into your hair, treasuring the scent so not to forget it when he inevitably gets deployed.

“This is our forever baby.” You said intertwining your hand with his as you both sat cuddled up with one another listening to the waves of the ocean crashing and making plans for your future.

Two months settled into your new home with Bradley, two months of the rest of your lives. Lives that entailed lazy Sundays, coffees in the morning, walks along the beach, lingering sweet kisses amid pillow talk and making love – and all things perfect. But also lives that weren’t always bright, lives that held bickering, late night fights over pointless things because you both had tough days at work, misunderstandings, and the challenges of balancing busy days. Some days were filled with bright skies and sunshine, other days filled with dark skies and rain. It wasn’t easy, but you had Bradley and Bradley had you. There was calm and there was chaos, but you had each other to navigate your ways through any problem, together.

But sometimes, the best things in life are short lived.

Bradley spent 190 days with the love of his life.

Standing in the Hard Deck with a bunch of flowers, waiting for you to pull up after work, he fiddled with the ring in his free hand and let out a shaky breath. You hadn’t been in a relationship for a very long time, but they say when you know, you know. And Bradley knew. He knew in his heart without a doubt – even if he couldn’t find the right words, he knew that he fell more in love with you every single day. You were his sun, his moon, and his stars. You were his happiness, his best friend, and the kindest soul he had ever met. Sometimes he wondered if he ever told you enough. You never asked anything of him. You loved Bradley for who he was and never in his 36 years on earth did he ever think that somewhere in this world he would’ve found a heart like yours.

Bradley didn’t get the chance to propose. His time with you was cut short by an alcoholic who made the unwise decision to get behind the wheel of a car and take away not one, but two lives that night.

“Bradley!” You wailed from the top of the stairs. Bradley shot up from his seat on the couch and ran up the stairs tripping several times.

“What is it baby? Are you okay?” He asked, hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, not overly concerned when he saw that you were okay.

Looking at him with tears in your eyes, body shaking, and one hand covering your mouth, you raised your other hand to reveal a positive pregnancy test.

“Oh my god, honey, are you – are you sure?” He asked, reaching out to take the test from you to double, triple check.

Nodding your head fervently “I’m absolutely sure, Bradley we’re going to have a baby. Oh god”

Bradley had never been so over the moon. Yes, it was seen as too soon to some, but you couldn’t think of any better blessing, and neither could Bradley. You were both ecstatic and couldn’t wait to start a family together. And that was all taken away from him too soon. He’ll never get to meet his baby. And he wishes, he wishes so hard for the 3am wake up calls for feeds, the dirty diapers, the screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night – all so he can count ten fingers and ten toes, hear that steady heartbeat, and look into the eyes of who he was hoping to be your double. But sometimes life has other plans.

Bradley can’t say he believes he will ever meet another person like you. Someone so full of light even in the darkest of moments. Someone who loved him for him. Someone who would give so much of themselves to others and never complain. Someone who saw the good in everything, saw the good in him.

The one night he’ll remember for the rest of his life, the night you lay in bed together, Bradley’s head resting on your stomach, your hands tracing the patterns of the freckles on his back like a constellation. The two of you dwelling in the afterglow of finding out that you were both going to be bringing a little one of your own into your lives, a mixture of you both, your baby. Bradley was ecstatic but anxious.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand the good that you see in me” He whispered.

“Bradley, its not the good in you that I see, my love. It’s the good that I see in this world when I’m with you, the good that you make me see.”

If there was ever one thing Bradley Bradshaw was completely and utterly sure of, it was that he was going to spend the rest of his life by himself. He had spent his whole life trying to push away the idea of love because he believed he would be the reason it wouldn’t work out. He had spent his whole life overcome with the grief that came with losing his parents. And he was okay with being alone, until he met you, an angel he believed his parents sent to him, to walk this earth by his side, for however long it was going to be. And despite his time being cut short with you, he had the most extraordinary and captivating experience of understanding what it’s like to love and be loved.

Taglist:

@aistash

@minichrismd

@roosterforme

@roosterscockpit

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #tgm #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fluff #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster angst #bradley rooster bradshaw angst #angst #top gun angst #top gun maverick angst #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic

[ultralightpoe]

Tiktok Trouble Pt 2- Jake Seresin

Authors Note: LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE 

Word Count: 2253

Warnings: Allusions to smexy times

Description: You love pranking your husband, and tiktok loves it too

Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!

Enjoy!

The morning of your errands had started off salty with Jake, who content with bitching about everything, and you had gotten just as snippy with him considering you had been in such a good mood when you both left the house. But he had worn you down, now you were sitting in the car with your thighs sticking to his leather seats like crazy (he hated air conditioning and the heat was just clinging to you) while he ran in and grabbed what he needed from this store. 

Normally Jake would take you in with him, but today he made a snippy comment about not wanting to be in there forever so you rolled your eyes and turned the music up as he got out, cracking the windows like you were a dog. 

It’s here you got the idea.

You had taken a break from posting pranks on tiktok, your guys’ sink had actually busted (Jake was so happy he watched the videos) and one of his old navy brothers had lost their lives so you both had flown out for the funeral. After that everything just seemed to be too busy, and Jakes mood was ever so cranky as of late. But today seemed like a good day to try and lighten the mood. So you set up your phone and waited, once you saw him come out of the store you began fighting something in the backseat. 

Jake, as first, seems to think you are looking for something and when he gets into the car he slaps your thigh lightly. “What’d you lose?”

“NOTHING! BUT THIS BITCH HAS LOST HER MIND!” You snap and start swinging at an imaginary figure in the back. Jake stops and stares at you, leaning against his door as he tries to figure out what is going on while you act out a very angry fight. 

“What. Is. Happening?”

“Bubs, she’s running her fucking mouth to me right now- seriously? No YOUR MOM-” You are about to swing at the air again and he catches your hand, pulling you back and reaching to feel your forehead. 

“We should get you some water-”

“Mind your fucking business!” You shout to the back and your husband nods aggressively and turns to the back to snap out a ‘bitch’ before turning to you and moving to buckle you in. 

“You tell her. You tell that….bitch?” He really doesn’t seem to know what to do, so he simply buckles you and reaches for the water bottle he brought, that’s when he sees your phone. “Oh for the love of-”

You’re laughing your ass off and he’s covering his face as you turn off the video. “Really?! I was so confused!”

“I’m sorry. You were being such a sourpuss this morning and I HAD TO!” You laugh, kissing his elbow as he continues rubbing his face.  “Love you bubs.”

“I love you too. Even when I think you’re batshit crazy.”

—------------------------

COMMENTS:

“The thigh slap- PLEASE LORD I’LL BE GOOD-”

“LMAO, when he finally just gives in and helps”

“SNSJKSJJANNX X I WANT THEM BOTH! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!”

“Y/n has now proven she can fight anyone that tries to take her man”

—-----------------------

“Sugar?!” Jake calls from the bottom of the stairs, tapping his foot a little impatiently as he waits for your response. You, being the perfect wife who would never do anything wrong in her life ever, closed out the webpage of adoptable dogs that your husband specifically said no to and ran to the stairs. 

“Yeah bubs? What’s up?” You smile, watching his face morph into suspicion. 

“Didn’t like that one bit- but I need to run to the store and figure out what pipes match our sink. You’ll be okay here?”

“Will I be okay in the air conditioned house with my handsome husband out going to get stuff for our sink? All lonely and sad and ever so hor-”

“Okay okay, just gimme a kiss.” He laughs, waiting for you to run down the stairs and kiss him before you get an idea and run back up the stairs as he leaves. 

You snatch your phone and film a quick video of him getting into the car before screen recording yourself texting him ‘Come over he just left’ once you are sure he’s down the block.  Then you wait, until you hear a sharp screech and see his car zooming into the driveway. You set up your phone to record on his dresser and run to your shared bathroom as he books it up the stairs. 

“Y/n?” He asks when he reaches the bedroom, looking nothing less of pissed. 

“Yeah bubs? I thought you were going out?” You call from the bathroom, fixing your hair as you waited. 

“I decided that you broke the sink and should come with me.” He says sternly, crossing his arms and leaning on your dresser, the camera catching his jaw flex perfectly.  You swing the door open with wide eyes looking nothing less than excited. 

“Can we stop for pops?” You know he loves when you say pops instead of soda, and he tries not to smile. 

“As soon as you tell me what dumbass you were trying to sleep with in OUR BED.” He snaps, giving you a tight lipped smile with his arms still crossed. 

“Ohhhh yeah…. About that….” You smile, pointing to the camera and watching his face relax instantly. “Say hi to your fans bubs-”

“Are you trying to kill me?” He laughs, pulling you in to kiss you before standing up and walking to the door. “Grab your phone and purse. You’re still coming with me.”

—--------------------

COMMENTS:

“Girl, he’s MILITARY. Are you trying to get hit?”

– “STFU, that man does not hit woman unless they ask. Watch their other vids”

“The way his arms flex when he crosses them. I see now why she likes pissing him off.”

“They f***ed in the car. FOR SURE”

—--------------------

Before Jake got home from work you had hot glued the olive jar while taping it, then started cooking dinner while you waited. When you heard the sound of his keys in the door you started filming, leaving your phone on the table as you moved back to the stove. 

“Evenin’ Sugar.” He smiles, moving to you and kissing your shoulder as you move a cheek to him so he can kiss that as well. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Your in a good mood, that southern drawl comes out when you are.” You smile, watching him set his keys on the counter and reach across you to steal a green bean.

“Watched Rooster do 100 pushups.” He laughs before wrapping his arms around you. “What time do your parents get here?”

“About an hour- can you open that jar for me?” You ask sweetly pointing to the jar of olives you had glued. 

“What do I get out of it?” He teases, already snatching the jar. He tugs on it once, twice, then he gets frustrated and puts all his strength into it, face pinching up as he grunts out. “You’re kidding me..”

“Can’t get it?” You ask, moving closer as he tries again, grunting and turning red. “How about you go get changed and try again when you come back?”

He nods, setting it down with a face of disbelief and allowing you to kiss his cheek before running off to change. You snatch the jar and take it to the fridge, replacing it with the jar you hadn’t glued, setting it up. When you know he is within eyepoint you grab the fresh jar and pop it open with ease. 

“WOAH BABY!” He laughs, picking you up and spinning you around. “I married she hulk.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Now you’re just hurtin my feeling- HEY GOTCHA!” He spots the camera, keeping you lifted in one arm while he points at it. “You tried messing with me and I busted ya-”

“Okay okay- put me down.” You laugh, gripping his shoulder to not fall. “Bubs-”

“Nope!” He laughs, reaching for the sink hose and dousing you with it making you squeal. 

—--------------

COMMENTS:

“I think he is finally catching on”

“Making us all wet- oop”

—---------------

The next prank a whole two weeks, both of you getting busy with work and not having much time together besides sleeping, but you finally had a day off….which meant torturing your husband obviously.

You had woken up before him and gotten ready, doing your hair and makeup just the way he liked whilst picking an outfit you knew he loved before walking downstairs and putting a little heart over the date on the calendar just to fool him a little more. 

He trudged downstairs while you were on the phone with your parents, taking a second to lean on the counter and admire you while drinking the coffee you already prepared for him, wiggling his eyebrows when you turned to him while talking. 

What he didn’t know was that you were talking on a fake phone whilst yours was hidden on a shelf filming him. “Yes! I’m very excited for tonight, I think Jake is gonna try to surprise me.”

His eyebrows stop wiggling and pinch together in confusion as he pulls the cup away from his lips, mouthing a ‘what’ as you point to the calendar and then leave the room to keep ‘talking to your parents’.

Your husband looks at the calendar and sees the heart, head snapping to the side as he tries to think about what today was supposed to be. “Crap crap crap-”

The only problem came when your phone actually started ringing, drawing his attention to where it was hidden to film. “AHA!”

You laugh from the other room, knowing you were busted and the prank had failed, walking in to watch him flip the camera off and turn it off. “You haven’t been on your a game , lovely wife. I expect better.”

“Bring it on then.” You smile, enjoying the cocky smile that fills his face. 

—------------

So you upped your game, you bought a couple cameras to hide around and you thought of some great ideas. Jake Seresin was gonna regret marrying you. 

The first day he was gone on a mission you decided that instead of worrying about your husbands safety you would rather learn the WAP dance to piss him off when he gets back. The day after his return he is laying on the couch with his eyes closed (you made him tired after a long night in his defense) and you decide that you want to show him a tiktok dance.

“Okay I’m gonna set up the phone here,” You explain, leaning it against your tv before taking a couple steps back for dancing room. 

“Oh so I know where the camera is this time?” He teases, you snort and try not to look where the mini camera is hidden by his game console. 

“Just watch-” You laugh, playing the song. His eyes widen when it starts playing and then you start dancing and he is shooting up. By the time the song got to the actual WAP part he is dashing to snatch you up of the floor. 

“No ma’am.” He laughs, hanging you in the air like a dog that just got busted.

“WAIT! THERE IS MORE!” You laugh as he goes to turn the phone off. 

“Sorry Sugar but I really don’t need the squad seeing my gorgeous wife dancin’ like a stripper all over the internet. Save it for the bedroom.” He sets you down and smacks your ass harshly while laughing before he leaves the room thinking you hadn’t gotten any of that on film….sucker.

—---------------

COMMENTS:

“THE LAUGH AFTER HE SPANKED HER! STFU FNJENFJDBSB”

“LET HER FINISH THE DANCE! NOOOOO-”

—----------------

“JAKE SERESIN!” You shout, winking to the camera that was hidden in the kitchen and wait. The second you shouted with an angry tone you heard his phone drop and the sound of his feet hitting the stairs to rush to you. Once you were sure he could see you, you pretend to be angry. 

You have your arms crossed and a harsh glare as he comes into the kitchen looking like a little puppy. 

“Yes Sugar?”

“You got something you wanna tell me?” You ask, taking a step back when he takes a step for you. His eyes flash hurt and for a second you wanna tell him it’s a prank, but you double down and wait. 

“I….I uhm- well…..I forgot our anniversary?” He guesses, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “No! Wait! I missed your families monthly dinner- no w-”

“Final answer?”

“Wait, Y/n baby, just tell me what I did. No gimme a hint.” He rushes, falling to his knees. THE MAN ACTUALLY FELL TO HIS KNEES, and grabbed at your thighs. You break then, laughing and grabbing his jaw softly. 

“Just a prank babe.” You smile, kissing his temple and he whips back to glare. 

“You know what?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna make a tiktik and start pranking you!” He seethes and you crack up, but he shakes his head. “You’re laughing now, but you just started a war sugar.”

“Bring it on Bubs.”

“Oh I will.” He flips off your phone which makes you laugh harder already knowing that the phone wasn’t recording and he kisses your cheek before walking off. 

“See you soon…..”

—--------------

COMMENTS:

H_ngman: You have been warned!

Mrs.Bagman: Bring it on!!!

Authors Plea: Hey guys! I love likes and reblogs and I thank you all so so much. BUT I LIVE FOR COMMENTS! I really enjoy when you guys tell me what you like and dislike and what you want to see more of, so I beg for more comments. LOVE YOU ALL!

#jake #seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin angst #hangman #hangman top gun #hangman imagine #hangman smut #hangman angst #hangman x reader #top gun cast #top gun maverick #top gun sm #top gun smut #top gun maverick smut #top gun maverick angst

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Before He Cheats | Dagger Squad Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: female pilot!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), reader x ex!oc (past romance)

Content Warnings: angst, cheating, profanity, ends with sweet revenge | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 3.8k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: One thing about cheaters, they’re always gonna get caught. Whether right when it happens or years down the road the truth always comes out. And one thing they should realize is revenge is a dish best served cold.

Note: I finally finished my first year of grad school!!! Fucking finally people. Now I can relax and get to the drawing board. I already have visions and outlines for all current requests in my inbox and be sure to check out my April/May upcoming works and my pinned works in progress for what’s coming and posted! Thank you for your patience and to the anon who requested this I hope you liked it!

Also y’all….is there like some freaky shit going on with the universe and my works 💀 cause three days after I posted Lover inspired by Taylor swift she and her man of 8 years broke up and now I’m posting a cheater imagine (this request is from end of February) when there’s stuff going about Glen 👀 this is just freaky now

—————

Friday night at the Hard Deck consisted of a full house ready to kick off the weekend with beer and music. For a few years now Y/n had been working at the bar serving drinks and singing from 8pm to 9 as a way to make extra cash while her college sweetheart Ryan, who was a Lieutenant Junior Grade, was stationed at Miramar. Having not been married despite being a couple for so long, Y/n lived off base with some roommates while her boyfriend stayed in the dorms, however, he’d come to her place after work and stayed on weekends.

It was rare to see a military couple not be the stereotypically, “we got married right after I commissioned so my partner can be my dependent and travel with me when I get orders.” No, that wasn’t Y/n and Ryan. After Ryan’s commission Y/n stayed to finish up her Master’s at the University of Miami where they met while he was sent to Japan for two years. Then he was stationed in Virginia, followed by Lemoore, and now he was at Miramar. The longest base he’d been at. Y/n had been with him in Virginia, but didn’t move to Lemoore as she had a three-year contract with her job at the University of Virginia.

Toward the end of his two years at Lemoore, Y/n called Y/n to inform her he was being stationed at North Island and the contract was to be at least five years. Wanting to be close to him after being apart for so long and filled with hope they’d finally settle after Ryan hits ten years in the Navy, Y/n transferred to the University of California San Diego as the history of music professor. She also took on a part-time job as a bartender Friday and Saturday since she was only teaching two sections that occurred on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Plus Penny allowed her to sing Friday nights as an added bonus knowing she loved music.

Y/n settled rather quickly in North Island. With her two jobs she developed a friendly social circle consisting of the UCSD staff on campus and regulars at the Hard Deck. Several of the aviators took a liking to her. They knew Ryan and would often meet up every Friday after work to catch up on the week and watch her sing. Y/n always had their rounds ready the moment they walked in, “got ya seven cold ones.”

“Already?”

“The newbie over there didn’t read the sign. Round’s on him.”

They’d cheer Y/n on when she sang, literally the loudest bunch in the whole bar. “Sing it girl!”

“Ariana ain’t got nothing on you!

Phoenix sometimes sat at the bar when she needed to get away from the guys. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“Penny gave me the night off since I got papers to grade…but If I get done early I’ll be free.”

“Please, I am in need of a girls night. Hell I’ll even come help you grade if you tell me what to do.”

“Damn, Nat, were the guys too much this week?” She placed another beer in front of the pilot, removing the empty one to discard. “This one’s on me. You look like you need it.”

“You have no idea, Y/n. All week we’ve been training for an upcoming mission and they’ve been driving me nuts.”

Ryan had his own group of friends from the base who’d come toward the later hours of the night. They’d usually take up the space at the bar, Ryan greeting Y/n with a kiss and telling her how the day was. He’d nurse a couple beers before he and Y/n would retreat to her apartment when the place closed at eleven.

They’d been together for several years, coming up on their eighth anniversary when Y/n discovered his infidelity.

And it wasn’t just a one-and-done “I was drunk and stupid, she doesn’t mean anything,” type of deal. No, this was a long going affair lasting almost a year.

What was the kicker? The other woman was a married coworker of his.

Now Y/n may have had the reputation of being the sweet, down to earth, understanding person who would never hurt a fly. But as soon as her eyes landed on Ryan, her partner of eight years, shoving his throat down another woman’s throat while grabbing her ass like it would vanish from thin air…..she saw red. Kill Bill sirens blasting in her mind. Y/n wanted to ruin both of them seeing she wasn’t the only person betrayed. The woman’s husband was also being deceived.

And what was punishment for adultery and extramarital sexual conduct? Well, according to the Uniform Code of Military Justice those in the military who are married or have affairs with married personnel are dishonorably discharged, forfeited of all pay and confined for one whole year.

Was it harsh? Maybe some would see it that way. But cheaters need to be taught a lesson.

And Y/n was gonna make sure they got it.

For a whole week Y/n put on a brave face. Accumulating photographs and screenshots of text messages, emails, and bank statements to show proof of the affair and how long it had been going on. She secretly got in touch with the husband of the Lieutenant Ryan was sleeping with, presenting him with everything. Heartbroken and angry, he agreed to remain quiet until the meeting Y/n had set up on that following Friday with their partner's supervisor.

“I know this is a lot to ask,” she exhaled, tired from everything and having to act like she was fine. “But come Friday they’ll be faced with the consequences of their actions. I’m sorry you’re having to go through this as well.”

“It’s not your fault—you’re not the one who cheated on me. You’re the one who found out and had the decency to tell me. We both got screwed,” he rubbed his face with his hands, wedding ring flashing under the light. When it caught his eyes all he could do was glare at it. “The only thing making this somewhat bearable is the fact they’re gonna be hit with the ultimate blindside.”

Y/n nodded to his ring, “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m contacting a divorce lawyer once I leave here. Hopefully the papers will be drawn up quickly so I can bring them to the meeting. Make it a double whammy. You?”

Y/n threw back the rest of her gin & tonic, letting out another tired sign, “I booked a flight to Cabo. Spring break is next week so I’m gonna take a well needed week long vacation and then figure it out from there.” Sunny skies with margaritas and radio silence seemed to be the best therapy at the moment.

For the next three days Y/n maintained a strong façade. Whenever Ryan went to kiss her she’d kept it short or moved to where his lips hit her cheek. She continued to send screenshots to her phone and delete the conversations so he wouldn’t notice. When she surprised him at work for lunch the day before the meeting it really threw both the cheaters off.

“Y/n,” his eyes went wide, “what are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d surprise you for lunch,” she held up a bag of homemade stir fry, bidding a glance at the woman who also was white a sheet. “Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Y/n.”

“Becca.”

“Becca,” she repeated, a smile tight on her lips. While doing so she gave an obvious glance to Becca’s ring finger, finding the diamond. “Beautiful ring you’ve got there. Are you engaged?” Becca became flustered, but kept calm.

“Married.”

“Ah, your husband has a great eye for jewelry. You’re so lucky.”

Ryan was quick to cut the conversation short after the mention of Becca’s husband. Visibly uncomfortable with how Y/n was throwing their aldurty in their face despite not knowing she was aware of it.

The next day Y/n marched into their superiors office, dressed like a corporate CEO ready to fire the entire team for an unforgivable mistake, with two boxes on each arm. One filled with all the evidence of Ryan and Becca’s affair, the other containing all of Ryan’s belongings he had at Y/n’s apartment. Becca’s husband, Tim arrived a minute later with a folder of divorce papers in his hands.

They met with the supervisor first. Y/n introduced who she was and who Tim was, presenting the box of evidence and explained while the Captain shuffled through the papers. Visibly disgusted, the Captain thanked Y/n for bringing it to his attention and promised the adults he would handle the rest.

“Are you calling them in right now?” She asked.

“I was planning to this afternoon, why?”

“I’d like to be present if you don’t mind,” a hand came up to the other box she had, “These are his things and frankly, I want to see the look on his face.”

“Me too,” Tim piped up and waved the folder in his hands. “These need to be served to Becca.”

The supervisor simply shrugged and said, “if that’s what you want, fine by me.” He hit a button on his phone, “Wilkins, please inform Lieutenants Stevens and Leeds they need to report to my office immediately.”

“Yes, sir.” Though her heart was racing, Y/n remained poised and took a seat against the wall of the room. Tim sat beside her, both setting their gaze on the door to await their soon to be exes.

Roughly ten minutes later, a knock on the door sounded and the Captain gruffly said, “enter.” The door opened to reveal Ryan, whose eyes went straight to his superior before scanning the room ultimately resulting in him to freeze where he stood. Turning white as a sheet, Y/n could only imagine what was running through her ex boyfriend’s mind. There was great satisfaction seeing his eyes flicker from her to Tim to the Captain.

“Have a seat, Lieutenant,” the older gentleman's finger pointed to the seat in front of his desk. It seemed to snap Ryan from his daydream, the man stumbling into the room and unable to form words.

When he sat the first thing he tried to say was her name to which the Captain voiced, “I didn’t say you could speak, Lieutenant. Keep quiet, we’re waiting on one more before we get started.”

Becca’s reaction was pretty much the same when she arrived two minutes later. “T-tim,” she stuttered, red as a tomato and fear etched on her face.

“Rebecca,” his tone was blank, matching his expression. Just the full name combined with the parties in the room indicated to Becca she was about to have the worst day of her life.

But hey, maybe she shouldn’t have cheated then.

And Ryan? Mans was shitting bricks where he sat. Couldn’t even bring himself to look at Becca when she sat in the chair beside him. He kept trying to plead to Y/n with his eyes but she wasn’t having it.

The Captain got right to it. He laid out all the evidence on the desk for the two to see, Becca immediately breaking into tears while Ryan tried to explain. What could he explain though? How could he defend a year long affair with a married coworker in front of her husband, longtime girlfriend and superior.

When it came time for the Captain to discuss where to go from there, Y/n excused herself by dropping the box of Ryan’s things into his lap, “Here’s all your shit,” it nearly spilled onto the floor when the action surprised him. “Don’t call, text, show up at my place or at the bar tonight otherwise I’ll call the cops. I’m done with you, Ryan. Thanks for wasting eight fucking years of my life.”

“Wait, Y/n, please—,” she cut him off when he went to stand.

“You’ve not been dismissed yet,” that got him to freeze, noticing the Captain smirking in the corner of her eye. She turned to Tim, “Thanks for your help. Good luck with everything and I hope it works in your favor.” Becca gasped, realizing what the folder in Tim’s hand represented. It spurred on another wave of tears.

“Thanks,” he gave a tired smile, “And good luck to you.” With that Y/n was out the door and Ryan was out of her life. First thing she did was go home, change, and drive to the Hard Deck. Penny immediately poured a glass for her, “long day?” Y/n accepted the beer with a nod.

“Glad it's almost over.”

“What happened?”

Y/n felt the tears welling in her eyes. The emotions she had been holding the past two weeks had finally broken free. Concern formed on Penny’s face. “Ryan was cheating on me for the past year.”

“No,” the woman gasped. Never had she thought Ryan, who always came to the bar to keep Y/n company and watch her sing and her partner of almost a decade would betray her like that. “Did you just find out today?”

“Last Monday. I went to bring him his dry cleaning he left at my place and found him making out with his married coworker.” Another gasp left Penny. “I’ve been playing actor the past two weeks to make him think everything was okay while I gathered proof. Told the woman’s husband a couple days ago and we both met with their superior today. Gave him his stuff while I was at it.”

“I’m so sorry honey,” Penny reached over to pat her hand, “he’s an asshole and you’re worth so much more than him.” Y/n softly smiled at that, mumbling a thanks. Penny served her another glass, “Take the night off okay, I can call Elise to take your shift.”

If Y/n was being honest the offer sounded like a dream. She wanted to go home and cry herself into a bucket of ice cream while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine until she passed out. But part of her also wanted to sing her pent up feelings out. “Thanks, Penny. I’d still like to sing though if you don’t mind. I could use the release.”

“Of course,” Penny waved a hand, “Whenever you feel like it I’ll have Jose set up the mic. Your guitar’s in the back where I keep the stock.”

For the next couple hours Y/n caught up on grading some papers at a booth while she waited for 8 to roll around. By 6 most of their regulars from the base arrived, signaling the end of the work day. Nat was the first to spot Y/n, strolling over and immediately noticed by the professor's body language that something was off.

“What happened?” She sat across from her.

“What makes you think something happened?”

Nat gave a look, “first, you’re not working the bar.” Y/n shrugged, trying to be nonchalant.

“Penny gave me the night off. I’m still singing though so I thought I’d hang out for the time being—catch up grading before spring break next week.”

“The tone in your voice is off.”

Y/n scoffed even though the pilot was right, “It’s not off.”

“What’s not off?” Rooster comes up, pushing Nat aside so he could slide into the booth.

“Y/n’s acting off and won’t say why.”

“I’ve been grading papers for the last two hours,” Y/n rolled her eyes, “sixty to be exact and all are six pages each. If I sound off it’s probably because I’m tired.” Again, Nat doesn’t appear convinced.

“But you’re still gonna sing even though you probably would rather be home sleeping the day away?”

“Friday nights are what I look forward to during the week,” Y/n scribbled a grade at the top of the paper in front of her, placing it on the stack, “I get to see you guys and sing whatever I want. I wouldn’t miss this.”

“Is Ryan coming?” It was an innocent question and one to expect from her friends given they had no idea of the events that’d taken place. However it didn’t stop the sharp intake of breath Y/n did.

“No, he’s not,” she quickly added before they could ask why, “he got held up at work. His supervisor needed to discuss some things with him.”

“Uh oh,” Rooster made a face, unaware of the boiling anger surfacing in Y/n. “That can’t be good.”

“Yeah,” Y/n clicked her pen, finishing up the last paper. Nat decided not to press further on what was bothering her friend. If Y/n wanted to say then that was up to her.

So to brighten her mood Nat bought her a round and challenged Y/n to a game of pool. Y/n packed up her things, placed them behind the bar and then greeted the other daggers.

“There’s our favorite singer,” Jake announced with a smile. “We were wondering where you were.” Y/n took the cue Rooster handed her.

“Just trying to get through the semester, Hangman.”

The two women played best out of three with Y/n winning the first and final game. By the time they finished it was pushing 7:50 so Y/n informed Penny she was getting her guitar. Once retrieving the instrument she returned to the floor to see Jose had set up the mic and stool for her.

Grabbing a glass of water, Y/n took the stage and set the glass beside the stool before clearing her throat, “Hey everyone.” There were a few hoots and whistles from her friends and regulars at the bar. “How’s your night going? Good?” There were some ‘yeahs’ from the crowd, people moving to get drinks and settle close to the stage. “That’s great to hear. Just sit back, relax, and feel the music.”

Y/n played several songs, all acoustic, starting with Taylor Swift’s ‘Getaway Car’ followed by ‘Back to Black’ by Amy Winehouse. She changed the tune by playing Bill Withers ‘Ain’t No Sunshine,’ but changed ‘she’ to ‘he’ that not many caught. She played ‘Norman Fucking Rockwell,’ by Lana Del Rey and ‘Somebody That I Used To Know,’ from Gotye.

Coming up to the final five minutes of the hour, Y/n gulped the remaining bit of her water and put on a brave face. “This last song,” she paused to close her eyes, “fits the theme you’ve been hearing all night, but is a little more close to the heart. It’s dedicated to someone who’s not present in the crowd which really is a good thing because he knew what was best for him,” very quickly Y/n saw the confusion appear on her friends, some whispering to each other to ask if they knew what she was talking about. “If you can relate to this song because you’ve been on the receiving end of betrayal then my heart goes out to you for I feel your pain. If you can relate because you’ve been that one to betray someone, well, I’ve got nothing to say to you.”

Letting her fingers drum against the strings, the beginning chords of ‘Before He Cheats’ by Carrie Underwood echoed through the bar.

“Right now, he’s probably slow dancin’,” her voice carried into the mic, raw with emotion. “With a bleached-blond tramp and she’s probably gettin’ frisky. Right now, he’s probably buyin’ her some fruity little drink. ‘Cause she can’t shoot whisky.”

Out in the crowd Nat cursed under her breath, anger rising at the realization, “That sly bastard.”

“What?” Mickey whispered, the guys leaning in.

“Right now, he’s probably up behind her with a pool stick. Showin’ her how to shoot a como. And he doesn’t know….”

“Don’t you see?” She gestured with a hand to Y/n, “Ryan cheated on her! That’s why he’s not here. That’s why his supervisor needed to see him. It’s why she’s dedicated this song, a song about a cheater, to him!”

All the sirens ring in their heads as Y/n belts the chorus.

“I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights, I slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats.”

“Oh,” the word left Jake’s lips, fury in his green eyes. Y/n was his friend, and nobody hurts his friends. “Oh he’s gonna regret that.”

“You guys thinking what I’m thinking?” Rooster crossed his arms over his chest. All of them shared a look. Nat took one look at Y/n and saw how she was holding back tears.

Kill Bill sirens flooded her brain.

“Yeah, I think we are.”

Come Monday Ryan was emptying out his desk while he awaited his discharge hearing, dark circles under his eyes and in dire need of sleep. As he carried the box out to his car, it fell from his hands with horror coating his face.

Parked in the same spot his beloved red Mustang Charger was not the way he left it. The windows were shattered, tires slashed, the leather of his seats torn. His license plates were missing and the word cheater spray painted in white along the sides.

Hiding behind the building, the guys were biting back their laughter at his reaction. Bob holding the spray paint can, Mickey with the Louisville slugger and Bradley and Jake with pocket knives. Reuben had the plates behind his back and Javy kept checking the phone where he had hacked into the building's security cameras to make sure they were disconnected.

Right on time, Nat came running around the corner in her PT gear, slowing her run when she approached a visibly distraught and furious Ryan. Removing her headphones the pilot whistled, “Damn. That’s gonna be a field day to fix.”

Ryan snapped his head to her, “Do you know who did this?” His tone was accusatory and Nat couldn’t blame him. He knew she was friends with Y/n and frequented the bar every week. He wouldn’t put it past Nat being involved. “Was it you and her? Huh? Y/n had to get one last final laugh—as if she hasn’t done enough!” Nat only scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t throw accusations so loosely, Ryan. I’ve had PT all morning and Y/n left for Cabo yesterday.” There was no lie in her statement. Y/n was currently sitting at the poolside of her resort with a margarita in her hand. She’d posted on her instagram stories and let Nat know when she landed. Plus the pilot did have PT and was finishing up her run before heading to the flight line.

But she was the mastermind while the boys did the dirty work.

The truth only angered Ryan more, his face turning even more red. “Then who did this?!”

“How should I know?” Nat smirked, putting her headphones in as she started to move past him. “But maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat.”

………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa @artemissunn @pinkpantheris

#Spotify #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick angst #TGM imagine #tgm fanfiction #dagger squad imagine #dagger squad x reader #dagger squad x platonic!reader #TGM x reader #tgm txt #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #natasha trace x reader #mickey Garcia x reader #bob floyd x reader #javy machado x reader #reuben fitch x reader

[saltsicklover]

Slamming Doors - BRB - Broken House

This was written as a oneshot but I have an idea on how to expand the story if there is interest for it! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you!

Title: Slamming Doors

Series: Broken House

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2700+

Rating: R

Warnings: Talks of death, sick parent, car crash, pet names, lots of crying, lots of yelling, ANGST, misunderstandings.

Doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. 

Honey like to think it's always better to be on the in swing of the door, rather than on the out swing. 

If she is on the in swing, Bradley would be storming in. It is like this often, the picture frame hung next to the door perpetually crooked from how often that damn front door is slammed. The corners of that frame are even chipped from the time or two it hit the tile floor. 

At least, if he is coming home, she has a chance to calm him down. To take his face in her hands and comfort the man she loves. To kiss his lips and agree that the Captain is a dumbass who doesn't have a damn clue about how to do his job. She is always there to comfort him, to take the weight of the day off of his shoulders when things have been bad. 

Hell, it isn't even always bad. Sometimes, maybe more often than sometimes, Hangman or Phoenix would be toting Bradley in, his arm held tightly over their shoulder, and he would drunkenly kick the door shut, the front of the house rattling with the abrupt closure. He would slur his words and hiccup, but always be happy to leave his friend's arms the moment he spots her. 

It is different now, though. 

Now, Honey is on the out swing. Bradley has her walking out after a fight, too heated to work it out. 

The front door slams again, the picture frame rattling lightly against the wall. Bradley walks into the living room before dropping his duffle bag in front of the couch. It is filthy, he is filthy. The arms of his flight suit are tied low on his hips, his white t-shirt completely stained with grease and gear lubricant. It looks angry, deep brown and jet black against the stark white of the cotton. Days like this, Honey would be in his arms as soon as his bag hits the floor, but today is different. 

Honey stands on the other side of the room, her back to her lover. 

Bradley and Honey are somewhere between whole heartedly committed and casual. She practically lives in his small home with him when he isn't away on deployment and there to take care of his plants when he is. It has been this way for almost two years, a little house right down the road from the beach in Pensacola. 

NAS Pensacola isn't home to Bradley, and Florida isn't home to either of them. They met by happenstance, both stranded in a storm at a little bar-motel in Maryland. He was there for work, she was there trying to track down information on her father. One drink turned into three, one night turned into a long weekend, and the two have been intertwined ever since. Honey followed him to Florida, still on her search for her father, who she never called by name. She'd said it was too painful and she wasn't ready to talk about him until she could talk to him. They hadn't intended on dating, and Honey had intended on getting the information she was looking for and then be moving on. But they had to go and fall in love. 

"Honey?" Bradley finally looks up at her, taking in the slump of she shoulders. The whole energy in the house wrong. There is no candle burning on the coffee table, the blinds aren't open to let the sun in, and Honey hadn't found her way into his arms yet. Something is most definitely wrong. 

He bends down to untie his boots as he waits for his lover to answer his call. She doesn't move to turn around, nor does she say a word. Her eyes are locked on the photo of Bradley and Nick, his father, that is hanging up on the wall. In it, Bradley sits atop Nick's shoulders, both wearing grins so big she could practically see the ache in their cheeks. Her eyes trace over the frame, then Bradley, down to Nick, then back up again to repeat the process. Honey has been standing there, eyes glued to the photo for the better part of the last hour.  

Before she found herself in front of the photograph on the wall, she had been staring at the photo in her hand for much too long. She has been holding it so long that there are fingerprints on the glossy side of the photo, both in full and partial prints not kept to the edges. 

Honey had been dusting the mantle earlier that afternoon, her body poised on a stepstool to get the shelves above the fireplace too. As she was cleaning, she bumped a framed photograph of Bradley and his mother, Carole, posed together on his High School graduation, shortly before she had passed away. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his frame, partly out of love, partly to keep herself standing upright. She had insisted on standing for the photo, even though Bradley wanted her to stay in her wheelchair. 

Bradley had told Honey about his mother so many times before. He loved showing her the photographs and telling her stories. He is so proud of his parents; but Honey knew he was a Mama's boy. That was likely because she was the only parent he had for a majority of his life, between deployments and his father's untimely passing. 

The relationship he had with his Mother was special. It was something that allowed Bradley and Honey to bond over when they first began dating. Her father walked out on her and her Mother before she had her first birthday. Honey was a Mama's girl too- her Mother passed away five years prior due to a driving accident. Black ice in the middle of winter was no joke, and Honey's mother should not have been out driving in the first place. 

Both effectively orphans, the pair bonded quickly. Lack of family tended to do that to people. 

Bradley tired to get Honey to talk about her father, to share just a little bit of information about him. All he ever managed to learn was his Navy association. He grimaced when he found out, knowing just how many deadbeats there are in the Military. 

After Honey had knocked the photograph off the shelf with her elbow, it hit the floor and shattered. It took her ages to clean up the glass, and she even managed to save the photo of Bradley and his mother from being ruined. What she was not expecting was the photograph hidden behind it. 

In her hand, she clutches a photo of Pete Mitchell and Bradley at his high school graduation, both smiling and happy. Bradley has the hope for his whole future in his eyes, that much is clear enough to see. Pete has an arm around Bradley, pulling him close as he holds a photo of Nick in his other hand.

The photograph lead her to where she stands now, unwavering in her place, even as Bradley calls her name again.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Bradley crosses the room, his untied shoelaces hitting against his boots with small clinks from the plastic aglets. He reaches a hand out to her, gently pulling her hair over her shoulder. "Honey?" 

She turns to him, eyes glassy. The sight of Bradley swims, tears distorting her vision. Her cheeks are red, like she has been straining to hold back her tears. Quickly, he eyes the rest of her form, taking her in in her entirety, trying to pinpoint her distress. His eyes land on the photo she has creased in hand. Gently, he takes the photo from her hand before pulling her into his chest. 

The grease smeared shirt across his chest becomes a home for a lose tear as he brings her into his frame, her face pressing into the expanse of his chest, near his shoulder. 

"I broke a frame while I was cleaning," Honey begins, her voice so quiet he almost misses it, "I'm sorry, Bradley," 

"Oh, Honey," Bradley coos lightly, "You don't have to be sorry, it's okay. The frame can be replaced, no need to be upset, Sweet Girl,"

Honey sniffles against his chest, bringing a hand up to try and brush a tear from the fullness of her cheek. She almost chides him for thinking she would be upset over something so small, but she can't find it in her to make the joke out loud. 

Bradley smiles to himself, thinking about how caring his girl is, but the smile immediately disappears as he looks at the photo he had taken from her moments before. This is not the photo that was on display. Bradley would never have a photo of Maverick up in his house, not after the older man pulled his papers for the academy. Absolutely not. 

"Honey," Bradley pulls back, his eyes glued on the photo, "Where did you get this?" 

"It was in the back of the frame- behind the- behind the photo of you and your Mom," She hiccups through the sentence, anxiety rising up in her chest again. The taste of bile is sour on her tongue as she looks over Bradley's expression. His brows are furrowed, eyes narrow and angry as he locks eyes with the photograph. 

"Who is that?" Honey asks, even though she already knows. 

"Pete Mitchell," Bradley's voice is laced with so much venom it gives her goosebumps. She raises her eyebrows but Bradley doesn't need prompting to continue. "He flew with my Dad, was the reason for his accident. If they didn't have to eject, my father would still be here today. And then, when I applied for the Academy, he derailed my career by years when he pulled my papers. I haven't spoken to him since," 

A noncommittal hum is the only thing Honey can muster in response. Honey can feel her skin flush hot and cold but tries to push the feeling aside. 

"I need to talk to you about something," Honey's words sound heavy coming off of her tongue. The tone snaps Bradley's eyes right up to her, the picture being abandoned on the coffee table. 

"What is it?" 

There are so many things Honey wants to say. She wants to plead for Bradley to tell her everything he knows about Maverick. There is a part of her, deep inside, that is still eight years old, still the same little girl who realized for the first time that her father wasn't coming back not because he couldn't but because he didn't want to.  

Honey wants to tell Bradley that Maverick is her father, to explain that the man standing next to him, clad in a leather jacket and dark washed jeans is her father. The man who didn't want her. She wants to bond over their appeared shared hatred of the man. Honey wants to curse his name and burn every photo of him that the two are in possession of. She wants to say fuck you to Pete Mitchell all together, with the man she loves by her side. 

But instead, the words that leave her mouth are much, much worse. 

"You can't talk about your father anymore," 

The words aren't tactful, but they aren't exactly a lie either. She has always had a hard time listening to Bradley talk about Nick. There has always been something so fucking bitter inside of her whenever he would talk about him. The knowledge that her father is a Naval Aviator, just as Bradley's had been was just too close for comfort for her. But now? Knowing that the stories of his father are also stories of her father. That broke her. 

"Excuse me?" 

The statement catches Bradley off guard so much he almost feels dizzy. If it weren't for the clunky air conditioning unit in the window behind Honey humming away, he might've blamed the feeling on stifling Floridian humidity. But, unfortunately for them both, he heard her correctly. 

"That's not what I meant! Shit!" Honey starts, but Bradley's expression doesn't turn any more pleasant. 

"I mean, fuck, I can't listen to you talk about your father anymore!" That sentence isn't any better. Honey can hear her own blood rushing through her ears, the same way she can feel the heat rising to her face with it. 

"What?" 

The venom is back in Bradley's voice, anger is beginning to boil behind the color in his eyes. Suddenly Honey wishes she could rewind time, just two fucking minutes. 

If there is one thing for sure, Honey may just be fragile like that picture frame, but Bradley is fragile like a bomb. 

Bradley's fists ball at his sides, knuckles going white as he squeezes them tight. Honey can't take her eyes from his face, from the vein that bulges in the side of his neck. She notices how his lip curls forward, his mustache sloping downward with his frown. 

"I just-" Honey takes a deep breath; it's ragged as it goes in and back out, catching on the broken pieces of her heart, "I can't have flashbacks from memories that aren't mine- I can't have this image in my mind of a man that I didn't know," 

Bradley is fuming now, listening to the words as they come out of his lover's mouth. He already had a shit day, having come down on new assignment back to TOP GUN. He didn't want to tell Honey, worried about what she might say. Worried that she might not pack up her life and go with him, or worse, that she wouldn't be here waiting for him to come back. 

Honey isn't explaining herself well, but he doesn't know that, nor can he calm down enough to figure out exactly what she is talking about. At face value, she is bad mouthing his father, the great Nick Bradshaw, mother Goose, and Bradley won't stand for that. He misses the words coming out of her mouth and the new tears that have made their way down her cheeks. 

"Shut up!" Bradley yells, his hands coming up to grip tightly in his hair. The words cut Honey off mid-sentence, and she obeys the command, more out of stunned compliance than choice. 

"Brad-" 

"No!" He points a finger right into her face, anger fully taking him over. He hasn't been this angry since Mav pulled his papers, the almost forgotten feeling burning beneath his skin. Honey's lip quivers, but she pulls it into her mouth, between her teeth to keep him from seeing it. "You do not get to stand here, in my house, and talk shit about my father!" 

"No! Brad-" Honey holds out her hands, pleading for him to just listen, for just one second. Just long enough for her to get this mess of a miscommunication figured out. 

"Enough!" Bradley's voice practically shakes the room, "Get out!" 

"What?" Honey's voice is so unbelievably small now, like she doesn't trust herself to speak. 

"Get. Out. Now." Bradley can barely look at her. Honey knows when she has lost a fight. So, she moves past him, grabbing her purse from the couch on her way past. She makes it to the door, her hand still on the handle before she speaks one last time.

"You like to think you are so much like your father, all good heart and good man, but in reality, you are just like mine," 

Honey slams the door behind her, the sound echoing though the house. She doesn't stop long enough to hear the picture frame fall from it's place on the wall, the glass shattering against the tile. 

There is too much left unsaid, the words that made it out taken to far and just wrong. Nick was the kind of man she always wished her father would have been. Kind, good, loving. And when she didn't find that in her own father, she found it in Bradley instead. Bradley liked to say that his father would have loved her, enough for both himself and her father combined, and she believed it too. But now, as she walks away from Bradley, she can't help but know just how disappointed Nick would be in her. 

Because, doors aren't meant to raddle on their hinges. Doors aren't meant to be slammed that hard. And now, Honey knows exactly just how much better things are on the in swing of that front door. 

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun angst #bradley rooster bradshaw angst #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick angst #slamming doors

[eternalsams]

Skinny Dip ⇴ Dagger Squad

pairing: dagger squad x fem!reader (all platonic)

content:/warning: fluff, angst, cancer, death, grief, swearing, innuendos, mention of porn, a bit of nudity, inaccuracies about military and cancer (please forgive me)

Prompt: "Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time." (by @tgm-all4one)

summary: Last year was quite traumatizing for the Daggers and they need something to remind them of the good old times.

word count: 3.4k

notes: English isn't my first language, please take that into consideration. Also, the moment I read about that challenge, I knew what I had to do, and I wanted to apologize for what you're about to read, I know some hearts might break and some mean words might be directed towards me, and I completely understand so don't hold back and throw me all your hate, I LOVE IT!!

FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS

masterlist

Bradley parks his Bronco just next to the Hard Deck before turning off the ignition. He sighs loudly and rests his head on the steering wheel. He closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind, reminding himself why he was here. He clears his throat and turns to his backseat to grab the beach bag he packed up before leaving. He gets out of the car and notices Jake's truck and Natasha's car in the parking lot. He walks up to the beach and can see the dark smoke of the bonfire. He puts a smile on his face and joins his friends. He hugs Natasha who's sadly smiling at him and she softly rubs his back before letting go. He quickly hugs Jake and asks him if he needs any help with the fire.

You try to carry the many logs in your arms, sticking your tongue out in concentration. "You know... You could just ask for help." Jake laughs as he carries his own logs. "I don't need you, Bagman. I've been camping since I was 3, I can carry logs without any help." Jake rolls his eyes and when the two of you reach the others, you can't stop but sigh when you drop the wood in the little pit Rooster dug into the sand. Jake drops his own logs into the pit and taps on your shoulder, laughing. "Just shut up..." You groan.

Bradley just stays sat next to the fire, watching the flames dancing as they wait for the others to arrive. He just listens to the cracklings and he can hear Jake and Natasha having small talks. The sound of loud music pulls him from his thoughts and he raises his head, watching Mickey and Bob chatting in the parking lot. Reuben and Javy join a couple of minutes after that and they all start chatting and drinking. Sometimes one of them sighs and a silence takes over the moment before someone tries to crack a joke. The sun disappears behind the ocean and they're joined by the billions of starts above them, the moon shining bright and reflecting into the calm water. Bradley stays silent a little moment, his gaze fixed on the sand between his toes, before he takes a gimp of his beer and stands up. "I'd like to say something." Everyone turns to him and stops talking, knowing perfectly what was about to be said. "A year ago, we... lived something I never thought living all over again, and the fact I already faced it doesn't help with the pain. I don't know how you're holding up but it's been a very long year for me..." He can feel the tremble in his voice and the tears threatening from spilling and running down his face. But he stays strong, for his friends. "I'm glad we're all here today, Y/N would have appreciated it." He then sits back down and it's all silent again, just the sound he makes drinking his beer being heard. "To Y/N..." Natasha raises her drink and waits for the others to join her. They all raise their drink in turn, all of their voices echoing in the quiet evening.

You pass the doors of the locker room, the head low and deep in your thoughts. You don't even notice Natasha changing into her flight suit. Your just reach for your locker and open it, your gaze still looking into the void. You come back to reality with a start when you feel Nat's hand on your shoulder. "Hey, you're okay?" She asks you with worry painted all over her face. It wasn't you to just walk in a room and say nothing. "Yeah... Why ya asking?" You just turn back to your locker and takes off your shirt, tossing it into the locker. "I've been calling you several times, you didn't react." She zips up her suit and grabs her helmet. "I'm tired, is all."You try to give her a warm smile but she can clearly see it doesn't reach your ears like it usually does when you're smiling. She doesn't want to push you so she simply nods and leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thousands of thoughts. The words of the doctor you saw this morning just repeating in your head. Brain tumor. Too late. Inoperable.

"You guys remember when Y/N got so drunk she asked us to go skinny dip with her?" Bob laughs, looking up at the stars above them. The memory raises laughter among the group and a soft smile appears on Jake's lips. "I actually went with her that night." The confession earns him a few disgusted noises and gags among some mindless insults. That made him laugh. "I didn't go into the water or even got naked. I just looked after her from the beach, watching her having so much fun in the ocean. She was laughing so hard, I thought she would wake up all Fighter Town." He laughs and the others stop insulting him, just listening to Jake's secret memory. He rubs his face and wipes the first tears forming under his eyes. "I actually skinny dipped with her once." Natasha confesses, and a wave a wolf whistles is heard. She almost regrets immediately telling the boys her little secret but she really wanted to share the memory and keep the mood light. "Please tell me you got home together and had a pillow fight in cute Pj's." Jake smirks at her and she throws a handful of sand in his face to make him shut up. The blond pilot grimaces and spits sand before rubbing his tongue and his eyes, groaning. "What kind of porn do you think you live in?" She laughs and she watches her friend trying to spit all the sand in his mouth and she lies down, her head resting on her crossed arms. "It was just before she told us. I guess she wanted to create some memories." The silence comes back as they all know what she means by 'she told us'. Probably one of the worst day of their entire life.

You were waiting for the others to join you at the Hard Deck. Hell, you even asked Maverick to come, he deserved to learn it from you too. You were looking at your feet as you were pacing, Penny glancing at you as she was cleaning some stuff. You hear the door open and Jake's voice shouting. "The Queen has required my presence so here I am!" You smile at his antics and go to hug him tight. He's quite surprised by your display of affection but hugs you back. When you pull away, he ruffles your hair and you grumble. "Hello, Sunshine... So, what's the object of our meeting?" He asks as he sits down on a stool. "Can we... just wait for the others to arrive? I want all of you to be here before I say anything." You look back at the doors, checking if anybody else arrived. "Is everything alright?" He asks, frowning and a bit worried. You don't want to lie to him but you're not ready to tell him yet so you don't say anything and fake a warm smile. "Don't try to get any hint, Bagman." You elbow him gently and his frown is replaced by a kind smirk. "Alright, alright..." He quickly rubs his face before standing up and walking to Penny, asking her for an old fashioned. Jake was always early to everything so it didn't surprise you that he arrived first and the others took their time to join you.

When you made sure everyone was here, the whole place is on edge. Everyone wants to know why you asked them to meet you in the middle of your day off. You're standing in front of them and refuse to look into their eyes. "Okay, hum... I guess this is the moment to tell you something quite important. Since we've been reunited last year for this suicide mission, you've all become the closest thing to what I call a family. And I'll never thank enough fate for putting us all together and for making me meet all of you." You're fidgeting with your bracelet as you keep your head low, shifting your weight from one foot to another. "But I guess every good thing has its end." You chuckle dryly and finally look up, crossing pairs of concerned gazes. "Few weeks ago, I had my medical exam to check if I would be clear to fly this year and they found something. In my brain." You gulp and slightly jump when you hear a glass knock against the wooden bar. You look at Bradley and see his jaw tightening, he already knows what that means, he's been there before. He's looking deeply into your eyes, waiting for the bomb to drop. You take a deep breath and maintain his eye contact. "It's untreatable..."

The silence comes back in the Hard Deck and Penny is the first one to react, walking around the counter and wrapping her arms around you. She's whispering apologies in your ear but your eyes are still on your friends, they're all shocked, they don't know what to say. You blink and Jake stands up, leaving the bar, slamming the door behind him. You can still see him through the windows and he sits down on the steps, burying his face into his hands and you can see his shoulders slightly shake with sobs. You don't blame him. He doesn't really like showing his vulnerability, but you're his weakness. Bob and Natasha wrap their arms around you in turn, promising you they'll be there for you if you need anything. Javy quickly hugs you and kiss your hair before going to check on his best friend outside. Mickey and Reuben hug you in turn and Maverick is the last one to face you. "Captain... It's been an honor..." You try to smile and joke but he simply takes you in his arms and you let yourself close your eyes and breathe deeply, feeling safe in his arms. When he pulls back, you're met with Bradley and he's opening his mouth, trying to find the right words, but he can't. "I'm sorry..." You whisper and he quickly looks away, chuckling dryly. "You shouldn't be apologizing." He takes your hands in his and just traces the lines of your palms with his thumbs. "I'm sorry you have to go through this all over again." You mutter and wrap your arms around his waist, resting your cheek on his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. "It's not your fault, kiddo... It's not your fault..." He kisses the top of your head and rubs your back.

The seven friends can hear the crickets singing and the waves crashing on the rock a little further. The light mood from earlier disappeared when Natasha mentioned the sad day of your announcement. "Maybe we should skinny dip in her memory..." Mickey wonders with a kind smile, looking around at his friends. "I'm not getting naked with porn-guy over there." Natasha immediately refuses, pointing at Jake. "It was a joke, Phoe'. I wouldn't even want to see you naked..." He mutters the last part. "We don't need to get naked, just in our underwear would be enough to make her happy." Mickey smiles a bit more, already undoing his laces and taking off his shoes and socks. "Come on, guys..." He begs when he sees none of his friends follow him in his idea. "I do it if you do." Bradley looks over at Natasha with a smirk. "Don't get too excited, Bradshaw. We might think you wanna see me naked." She laughs and starts stripping. Mickey grins and sees Reuben, Bob and Javy starting undressing as well. He gives Jake a pointed look and the blonde sighs. "Alright... But don't jump on me as soon as I'm undressed." He unbuckles his belt and Javy whistles jokingly. "We wouldn't dream of it, Bagman." Natasha is quick to shut him up and he simply rolls his eyes with a soft smile. When they're all wearing nothing but their underwear, they stay around the fire, looking at each other with silly faces. "What now? I mean... We've all got killer bodies but I won't stay like that all night long, it's kinda cold." Bradley jokes and a few laughs erupt. "You're scared the cold air might affect your body, Bradshaw?" Jake laughs and is immediately stopped when Bradley growls and starts chasing him.

The two men run on the sand, sometimes almost falling face first and Jake ends up jumping into the cold water. Bradley stops in his track with a grin and watches his friend stands up in the water, a shocked expression painted all over his face. "The water is freezing!" He screams and hurries to get out of the water but Bradley runs to him and tackles him back into the water. The rest of the squad erupts in laughter and they start running to the water to join the two men bickering in the cold water. When the water reaches Natasha's feet, she lets out a scream but doesn't stop in her track and dives right into the ocean. She lets the cold water hug her and wash her of the day's sweat before joining the others at the surface. She rubs her face and brings back her hair, laughing. She notices Jake shivering and his lips starting to turn purple-ish. She chuckles and splashes him right in the face. The blond pilot groans and slashes her back but she uses Bradley as a human shield. Jake laughs loudly at his frenemy's face but his smile quickly falls down when the Bradshaw pushes on his head to push him underwater for a few seconds. Natasha turns to Bob who let his glasses on the beach and now has to squint to see correctly. She splashes him and he screams before splashing back, but he doesn't really see her and ends up splashing Javy. Reuben and Mickey quickly join the water fight and the laughter can be heard from the beach.

They end up staying in the ocean for what seems like an eternity and when they go back to their stuff on the beach, the sun is slowly rising. They're completely drenched to the bones but silly smiles are engraved on their faces as they sit down on the sand. Natasha rests her head on Bob's shoulder who puts back his glasses on his noses. Mickey is lying down on her lap and she mindlessly plays with the short curls starting to grow on his head. "She would have loved this improvised not-so-skinny dipping..." Jake eventually says, his voice raw from all the screaming and all the laughing. Nobody says anything else but everyone agrees with him. For once. Natasha closes her eyes and ends up falling asleep on her WSO's shoulder and Mickey falls himself asleep on her lap. Bradley and Jake fall asleep a bit later too, lying down on the sand, their faces covered by their own shirts. Javy and Reuben share the cover they used to keep them out of the sand as a blanket and fall asleep. Three hours later, when Maverick gets off his bike, he notices several figures on the sand. He frowns and when he steps closer, he recognizes his squad, asleep and half naked on the sand. Confusion is written all over his face until he checks the day and recognizes the date. Yesterday was marking one year after your passing.

You watch them play football on the beach with a big smile on your face. Since Maverick introduced you to the Dog Fight Football, your friends would only play that game when you would go to the beach. You laugh when Mickey is being tackled by Jake and the two men roll on the ground. You take a sip from your drink and readjust your hat on your head. The umbrella over you already providing you shade but your chemo-bald head wasn't something you wanted other people to see. So after a quick discussion with Mickey, he took you hat shopping and you had a lot of fun. He insisted on paying everything and you ended up with almost ten new hats you could match with multiple outfits. No need to specify that you couldn't fly anymore but with a little help from Maverick, you still could come to base and see your friends. Your family. You're brought back to reality when a sweaty, panting Jake drops next to you. You give him a cold beer and he takes a couple of gulps before turning to you. "Want some?" He asks and you give him a pointed look. "Right... You're no fun, I forgot." He turns back to watch the others play and you bite the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from thanking him for joking about it. He was the one you felt the closest to. You didn't know why or how it happened but it happened. You loved all of them so much but Jake was different, sometimes you could almost feel like you were connected. Just like twins.

"Hey... You're getting red, you need more sunscreen?" He asks as he points to your reddening arms. You nod and he grabs the tube from the beach bag you got and walks around you to stand behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders with the sunscreen, being careful not to knock your hat off inadvertently. "You know... I'm still up for giving you a last wish..." He says and you turn to look up at him with a smile. He wiggles his eyebrows and you slap his chest before turning back to watch your friends play. Jake leans over to your ear and you can practically hear his smirk. "The others won't know, I promise." He whispers before rubbing your right arm with sunscreen. "Oh my God, stop!" You laugh, making him smile widely. "I'd rather give my last wish to Rooster." You say jokingly just to mess with him. "You wouldn't!" He moves to your left arm and when it's all done, he sits down on his heels before you. "But seriously, if you want anything before you..." He starts saying and stops himself, not fully on term with what was to happen. "You just ask, and I'll do anything to make it happen. And I'm sure the others would do the same." He keeps your hand in his and you look down and your joined hands, containing the tears. You look back up at him and take a deep breath. "I don't want anything more, Jake... I already have all I need." You smile at him and then look over at the others cheering Bob for tackling Mickey. You chuckle and Jake smiles, his stare never leaving your joyful face. That's exactly how he wants to remember you, smiling and laughing.

He stands up and dramatically bows. "My Queen..." He smiles at you and runs back to the others, catching the football Natasha just threw and running away from Bradley who's already on his tail. You smile and grab your phone, taking a picture of them playing. You smile at your phone and go to your camera roll. You open the file you named 'memories' and quickly scroll through all the pictures you took of the squad. You used to take a lot of pictures even before you learned about the tumor but you started photographing and recording everything after the doctor told you your days were numbered. You scroll down until you reach the bottom of the file and click on the first picture. It's a photo Maverick took the day you told them the truth. You could see Jake's red eyes but he was smiling for the picture, for you. You were between him and Natasha and the others were aligned, smiling at the camera. You slide left and you smile even more. This one was taken just seconds after the first one, unless you weren't all aligned correctly and looking at the camera. You were wholeheartedly laughing, head thrown back as your friends all squished you in a group hug. You lock your phone and look up at the game in front of you. You wouldn't dream of anything better than this. You grab your drink and take a sip, never looking away from your friends.

#tgm all4one #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun x reader #top gun x you #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x you #top gun angst #top gun maverick angst #Hangman x reader #Hangman x you #rooster x reader #rooster x you #Phoenix x readee #Phoenix x you #Fanboy x reader #Fanboy x you #bob x reader #bob x you #Coyote x reader #Coyote x you #payback x reader #payback x you #maverick x reader #Maverick x you

[sometimes-i-write-good]

Stairway To Heaven

Top Gun: Maverick - Jake “Hangman” Seresin x gn!reader [no use of y/n]

650 || Jake attempts to break up with you, but you aren’t having it.

====

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

CW: none!

Author’s Note: i’m too sad to write soft!jake and i’m too unstable to make it really angsty, so appreciate hasnocluewhatfeelingsareandatthispointistooscaredtoask!jake

===

===

"I don't think this is going to work out." The words fell off Jake's lips with a practiced cadence. Nonchalant. Toothpick from dinner resting comfortably against the plush cushion of his bottom up, which quickly pulled back into his signature smug grin. Arrogant. Completely unaware, painfully unaware, of the way his words would affect the world around him.

Just the way he practiced.

There was one slight miscalculation. One Jake often set aside in his mind because of how rare the experience was, but he wished he had steeled himself for regardless because when it happened, it took everything in him to hold himself together.

"What?"

He could hear the indignance creeping into your voice. An anger that, no doubt, would soon be replaced with cold apathy. Just the thought of how it would sound when you greeted him, or worse - ignore him - during exercises Monday morning sent a rising panic through him. Clawing at the back of his throat. The hair on the back of his neck started to stand straight up. The more Jake spoke, the more he would be solidifying himself into that rare state of heartbreak.

"Doll -"

"Don't you dare try to 'doll' me right now, Seresin." You swung around to face him and his heart squeezed. Maybe taking you to the beach to break up with you wasn't the smartest option. "Don't you dare open your mouth right now."

So Jake did what he did best when it came to you: he shut his mouth and watched. The setting sun lit you up in vibrant hues of orange and yellow. A  fire dancing across your skin that matched the fire in his heart. Every breeze moved your hair which had been steadily slipping out of its military regulated hold. If he had any sense, he'd take back what he said. He would get dramatic with it too. Threaten to walk into the waves and have them swallow him whole if being with you was not an option.

Jake merely walked alongside you, letting those words he spoke hang in the air, and said nothing else. This was for the best. Sense had nothing to do with it. All sense seemed to leave him when it came to you. He'd let himself get too close, too comfortable, And that had to change. But, as Jake could see in the downturn of your lips, his idea of change only ever ended up hurting those around him.

It had been so long since Jake’s idea of change had hurt him back.

"No.”

"No?" Jake turned his head to face you fully. He could feel the warmth of the sun beating onto his face. Maybe this was the moment to start being dramatic. To crack open his chest, reach around his ribs, and pull his frozen heart to thaw as a gift just for you.

"I reject your rejection."

His toothpick hit the sand. Never before had someone taken the hurt in his heart and bandaged it before. “You mean to tell me-” he could hardly contain the smile on his face (so much for nonchalant)- “that you’re not letting me break up with you?”

You did not match his grin. The red sun behind you illuminated an angry aura. “Don’t look at me like that Bagman. You’re taking your ass straight back to the barracks and we’re staying up all night-”

He caught your hand as you reached out to smack him. “I’ll gladly stay up all night with you, Doll.”

“Jake,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “We’re staying up all night to talk about why you felt the need to break up with me because things are going well. I’m going to psychoanalyze the shit out of you.”

It sounded like his own personal hell.

“I’m in,” he told you… because who was he to deny a stairway to heaven when an angel presented it to him?

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #hangman top gun #Jake 'Hangman" Seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x you #Jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman angst #jake seresin angst #top gun angst #top gun maverick angst #stairway to heaven

[topgun-imagines]

— Whumptober 2023—

hey everyone! this year, i've decided to participate in the 'whumptober' event. the whole inspiration behind my take on this event is based on @topguncortez and her whumptober masterlist. you can check it out here! just a reminder that while i am participating in this event, i have a life outside of tumblr as well.

on that note, here are the rules:

-one topic will be assigned to one character which will take place on one of the 31 days. there will not be more than one character per day.

- a list of prompts can be found below. you may submit a request for a character and a certain prompt. however, if that prompt has already been filled, unfortunately, it will go to the first request. once a prompt has been filled, it will be crossed out.

- here is a list of the character that i write for. please view this before you request as some have been added that I haven’t yet wrote for.

- the masterlist for this event will be kept a secret until later on. i'd like to keep it a surprise which pilot gets which prompt :)

- asks for each day won’t be answered publicly but the day will be crossed out immediately after the ask is received

- days/titles may change depending on what i end up writing at certain times.

- and lastly, i have final say on which prompt goes with which pilot and is posted on which day. please respect this.

— Prompts —

1. Beautiful Sorrow

Flowers | Gravesite | Widowed

2. Famous Last Words

Death I Wounds | Coughing up blood

3. No Mistakes

Parental abuse | perfectionist | alcoholism

4. Fall From Grace

Cheating | Love triangle | Divorce

5. Head Above Water

Drowning | Thalassophobia | Overwhelmed

6. Part Of Me

Miscarriage | "It's all my fault" | Blood

7. Push And Pull

Friends with benefits | Unrequited love | Conflicted

8. Pick Your Family

Disowned | Homophobia | "Why can't you love me?"

9. Pins And Needles

Paralysis | Disability | Arguments

10. Blood In The Water

Death | Ejection | Guilt

11. Darkest Hour

Self harm | “You can't leave me like this" | Ambulance

12. Take It All Back

Arguments | Break-ups | Age gap

13. The Company We Keep

Abandonment | Death | Suicidal thoughts

14. I Remember Everything

Unrequited love | Drinking | "Stay. Just till the sun rises"

15. Cut Me Open

Experimentation | Torture | Surgery

16. The Feeling Of Floating

Drugging | Rape | Fear

17. Heart Of Ice

Hypothermia | Flatline | Confession of feelings

18. Make You Whole

Amputee | "I can't make you whole" | Anxiety

19. Bottom Of The Bottle

Alcoholism | Death | Depression

20. The Art Of Pain

Cutting | Self harm | Blood

21. Sleep When You're Dead

Insomnia | Anxiety | Nightmares

22. Touch Of A Feather

Nerve damage | Hospitals | Outbursts

23. Angel Like You

"I'm everything they said I would be" | Death | Grief

24. Picture Perfect

Mental breakdown | Panic attack | Anxiety

25. Broken

Infertility | Arguments | Break-ups

26. Don’t You Trust Me?

Rape | Fear | Loss of trust

27. Sinking Sun

Cancer | Final goodbye | Death

28. Agony

Parental abuse | Burns | Beating

29. Gambling Man

Betting | Secrets | Arguments

30. Never Had A Chance

Religion | Homophobia | Fear

31. Break Me

Unrequited love | Toxic | Self-doubt

— Thank You! —

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #jake hangman seresin #top gun 1986 #jake seresin angst #angst #natasha phoenix trace #Natasha Phoenix trace angst #top gun angst #top gun maverick angst #Maverick angst #Phoenix angst #whumptober #top gun whumptober #iceman x reader #jake seresin #tom kazansky #iceman #tom kazansky x reader #iceman top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw #iceman x female reader #hangman

[callsign-joyride]

Not Part of the Plan | J.H.S

Summary: You and Jake wanted to have a home birth. When you went into labor, it didn't take long to discover that that wasn't in the cards for you

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x f!reader

Content warnings: Angst with a happy ending, childbirth, medical terminology, depictions of bleeding/blood loss, hospital, surgery

(I'm not a doctor so this will probably be very inaccurate lol)

A home birth had always been part of the plan. As soon as you and Jake found out that you were expecting, it was one of the first things that you agreed on. Your friends and family told you what it was like to have a baby at the hospital, being checked on by doctors at what felt like 15-minute intervals. You also weren't a very big fan of hospitals, anyways.

So when you went into labor at 37 and a half weeks, Jake was more than happy to call the doula and midwife after your water broke. It didn't surprise him that you were still being stubborn. After everything had been prepared, you refused to get in bed until you decided that it was time to push.

You knew that there was something wrong when you got out of the shower.

"You're bleeding," Jake said. With you being so far along (and clumsy), he was often reluctant to let you be in the bathroom alone for a shower.

"It's probably nothing."

"I think you should go lay down. I'll get the midwife in."

You sighed and started to put on some clean clothes. That was when you noticed that the grey towel that you had been standing on now had splotches of red. You knew that bleeding during labor was normal, but this didn't seem like a normal amount. Jake had been at the bathroom door seconds after you yelled his name. The midwife was a few paces behind him, but she took one look at the bloody towel under your feet and said that she needed to do an exam.

"Okay, I need you to stay with her, keep her talking. I need to call an ambulance," the midwife said. Jake nodded his head and sat on the floor next to you, grabbing your hand.

"I'm so confused. I didn't want to go to the hospital. Jake, what's going on?"

"You'll be okay," he said.

The ambulance pulled up to your house and you were still bleeding. While the midwife gave all of your medical information to the EMTs, you told one of them that you felt really thirsty and like you were about to pass out. Almost immediately after you said it, there was an IV in your hand and another one in your arm. They did a quick ultrasound before you were at the hospital.

"She's got a placental abruption with heavy bleeding. We gotta get her to an O.R. stat!" One of the nurses yelled. You squeezed Jake's hand and looked up at him.

"I'm really scared," you said.

"I know. I'll be with you the whole time, okay?"

Because of the situation's urgency, they prepped you in the operating room. Jake stayed true to his word the whole time, hardly refusing to let go of your hand, even when the surgeon had pulled the baby and placenta out of you without any complications. It wasn't long before you were able to be wheeled into a recovery room, and you finally got to see your baby once you came out of the anesthesia haze. The sight in front of you nearly made you cry. Jake was cradling the baby in his arms.

"Mama's awake now," he cooed. He looked over at you before asking f you were ready to hold her. After you said yes, he slowly placed the baby into your arms.

"She's perfect," you whispered. Jake nodded as he sat next to you in the bed.

"You're both perfect."

Taglist:

@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #hurt/comfort #hangman angst #angst to fluff #top gun maverick angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #hangman fluff

[fandomxpreferences]

The Invisible Woman Chapter Twelve: Empty Eyes and A Ravaged Soul

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Seresin x female!reader

TW:angst, memory loss, trauma, I think thats it?

Summary: You try to come to terms with everything thats happened.

Word Count:2k

Jake freezes upon hearing your voice say his callsign. He hasn't heard it in months, and he was starting to forget what it sounded like. His next thought is that you remember. You hadn't even known his first name, let alone his nickname. 

His head shoots up to look at you and he can see the chaos swimming in your eyes as the pieces come together. He hits the call button before grabbing your hand gently. 

"Hey, I'm right here Ozzy." 

You look disoriented, eyes wild as they dart around the room and try to place where you are. A few moments later nurses and doctors start filtering in and the heart monitor starts beeping rapidly as panic sets in. 

You rip your hand away from a doctor and start thrashing as they try to restrain you. Jake jumps up and tries to fight the anxiety crawling up his throat. 

He pushes past a nurse and leans forward to take your hand and whisper in your ear. 

"Baby. Baby, I need you to calm down and trust me okay? They're here to help. You have to let them help." His voice is pleading and you calm down just enough for the hospital staff to do their jobs. 

"So I take it you remember?" An older man asks and Jake scoffs. 

"Jesus Christ, it's been five minutes. Can she have a minute to settle down?" 

He's disgusted at how insensitive the man is being, and he wants it known. 

"Ma'am I think it's best if we speak alone." 

You shake your head immediately, desperate to be near Jake. 

"No, I want him in the room." 

The doctor sighs and shoots Jake a glare before turning back to you. 

"I'm sorry to push you, I know how sensitive this all is. But given the circumstances, the Navy is pushing for more information. Do you have any memory of what happened while you were deployed?"

You look at Jake for a moment before shaking your head slowly. 

"No, sir. I remember Jake and my life here. Aside from what I've been told, I don't know anything else. I'm sorry."

He sighs heavily and nods his head, marking something down in your chart. 

"Okay, well there's most likely going to be some officials coming by to take your statement as well as some specialists for psych evals." 

With that, he turns and exits, leaving you alone with the man you love. 

The two of you spend time catching up, deciding to wait a day before telling the squad the latest development. 

"So you really don't remember?" Jake asks, a French fry half hanging out of his mouth. 

"Nope, not a thing. I know this isn't what the Navy wants, but it's kind of best case scenario, right? I mean remembering the good parts and not the bad?"

He nods as he takes another sip of his drink, and swallows before answering. 

"Yeah, I would think so." 

It's quiet for a minute before you speak up again. 

"I'm really sorry for everything you went through. I can't imagine how you felt. Everyone is so concerned about me, but all I can think about is how you're doing." You whisper and Jake frowns. 

"Hey, I'm okay. I won't lie and say it wasn't hell on earth, but that's all behind us now. You're here with me, back where you belong, and that's all that matters." 

You study him for a moment and decide to let it go. You know he isn't telling the full truth, you can see it in the new gray hairs peppered around his forehead and frown lines between his eyebrows. All of this has taken a toll on him, but you love and respect him enough not to pry. 

"You would tell me, right? If anything was bothering you or any new memories start popping up?" He asks and you nod immediately. 

"Of course." You assure him, but he still looks nervous. 

"Promise?" 

You smile and reach out to steal a fry. "Pinky."

Guilt claws at your chest as the lie slips past your lips. Truthfully, you do remember. Not everything, but enough. 

You remember how your team got killed, you remember holding one of your best friend's hands as you tried to stop the bleeding and he begged you not to let him die, you remember running for your life. 

The only thing still blank is your time spent captured. You've gotten flashes of a dark cell that smelled of mold and stale water, but that's it. Honestly, you're okay with that. You prefer not to remember. 

The next day, another man with a high rank comes to visit and you sigh. He's new, and you figure they must be desperate for some insight. You watch as he pulls up a chair and press your lips into a thin line. 

"Ozzy," 

His voice is too sweet, and it immediately puts you on edge. 

"I think we both know you remember more than you're letting on. For everyone's sake, why don't you just rip off the bandaid and there won't be repercussions for lying to your superiors." 

There it is. The thinly veiled threat you knew was coming. Your eyes rake over his face for a moment as you ponder your options. He's older, definitely nearing retirement, and probably well-experienced in situations like this. 

You finally come to the conclusion that you really don't have any options, and nod slowly. 

"Okay, I'll tell you what I remember." 

The man takes everything down, periodically asking questions, and you try to be as detailed as possible. When he's satisfied, he stands to leave and you lean back exhausted. 

"That wasn't so hard was it?"

You resist the urge to make a snarky retort, settling instead for flipping him off when his back is turned to leave. 

Jake comes in a few minutes later with a concerned look and you give him a tired smile. 

"Everything okay? He was in here for a while."

You muster up a reassuring smile and nod. 

"Yup, just the same old shit."

He doesn't seem to fully buy it but lets it go. 

"I was talking to your doctor. He said that you should be ready to go home tomorrow."

It's not lost on you that it's because the Navy finally got what they wanted. You've known for a while now that you were physically okay to be discharged. They were holding you hostage in their own right, refusing to let you leave until they cracked you. 

"That's good. I'm ready to sleep in my own bed." 

The rest of the night flies by, and before you know it you're in Jake's truck heading home. It's exactly how it was before you left, and it brings you comfort. Your scrunchie is still on his gear shift, it still smells like his cologne and pine-scented car tree, and your sneakers you kicked off after a night out are still in his back seat. 

The newest addition makes your heart sink. Your hand reaches out to gingerly run your thumb along the cool metal swinging from his rearview mirror, and you feel his eyes on the side of your face. 

"Your parents got the ones from the funeral, but Ice pulled some strings and got me a copy." He explains softly, and you nod completely entranced. 

Neither of you speaks again, and your heart leaps into your throat as he pulls into your driveway. Nothing has changed and yet, it feels foreign. Jake has kept the grass mowed and the US Navy flag is still hanging from your front porch right where you left it. 

Your feet drag as you make your way to the front door, and Jake unlocks it with practiced ease. He holds it open for you and you have to force yourself to cross the threshold. You never thought you'd be back here again, and now that you are it seems surreal. 

The scent of your favorite candle fills your nose and a familiar feeling of nostalgia and warmth washes over you. It looks so normal as if you had just gone away for a long weekend on vacation. 

You register the sound of your bag hitting the ground as Jake drops it and flinch. Jake notices but doesn't mention it, not wanting to push you. He knows this is a lot for you to process, and he figures that even if you don't remember, there will still be some hesitation and skittishness for a while.

"You hungry?"

Your head jerks to look at him and you tilt your chin down just barely, but enough for him to understand. 

Twenty minutes later you're eating grilled cheese at your kitchen table like it's the most normal thing in the world. This whole thing makes you sick to your stomach. Everything is exactly the same, and yet you've changed irrevocably. 

Nothing feels right, and you feel like an imposter in your own life. Your life seems so far away, a distant memory that you barely even register as yours. You eat half your sandwich before standing and Jake looks up at you in alarm. 

"I'm gonna go shower." 

He doesn't get a chance to respond before you're walking away, and his gut is screaming at him that something is wrong. Of course, he knows something is wrong; hell everything is wrong. But the way your eyes look distant like you're not really here and your body moves as if you want to tear your way out of your own skin has him drowning in unease. 

He knows you better than anyone, even if you're not the same as you were, and he knows you're not telling him the whole truth. He doesn't know what it is, but he knows you're hiding something. He just doesn't know why. 

You stand in front of the mirror just staring at the reflection. You don't even recognize yourself anymore; it's a different woman looking back into your eyes. You've put on a good amount of weight and the physical injuries have healed but you're unrecognizable. 

There's no glint in your eyes anymore, your smile isn't as big, and your posture is shrunken. You're a shell of yourself, and you turn away unable to bear it anymore. The familiar scent of your shower products makes your head spin and you almost have to sit down. 

You rush through the process, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed. That presents a whole new slew of issues as you eye the freshly washed comforter and photo on your nightstand. It all seems to mock you; a reminder that life carried on while you withered away. 

After a few minutes, you gather the courage to climb into the mound of pillows and pull the blanket up to your chin. Jake watches silently from the hallway, not wanting to alert you of his presence. 

He was so focused on his hope that you'd come home, he never stopped to consider what it would be like if you did. Now that you're here, his heart breaks even further as he watches the woman he loves collapse under the weight of everything. 

He doesn't know what the future holds, or if you'll ever be any semblance of who you once were. All he knows is that he'll be here for all of it, no matter how dark and ugly it gets.

His hand reaches into his pocket and he scrolls through his contacts for a moment before finding who he was looking for and pressing the call button. 

"Jake? Is everything okay?" 

Mavericks voice rings out and Jake takes a deep breath before responding. 

"She remembers."

@drakelover78  @manyfandomsfanvergent @ssprayberrythings @disturbedbeautywrites @desert-fern @one-sweet-gubler @callmemana  @luckyladycreator2 @bookchik26 @taytaylala12 @michalkasimp @xoxabs88xox @loveless-simp @withakindheartx @formulapierre @ccristata @shanimallina87 @k-k0129 @izz-ayes-world  @kajjaka @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @phantomxoxo @rosiahills22 @gspenc @chair-things @benhardysdrumstick @cookielovesbook-akie @dempy @wellshit6 @zbeez-outlet @sopheeg @callsign-milano @gizmodear @cornishkat @fox-bee926

#jake seresin #Jake Seresin angst #Jake Seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick angst #top gun maverick

[topguncortez]

All My Heart & All My Being | Jake x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist | main masterlist

synopsis: Jake & Y/N are given devastating news on what was supposed to be a routine midwife visit. Jake navigates how to tell his kids about the circle of life.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: miscarriage, tears, fear of doctors, cursing, talks of death, canon character death, mentions of depression, mentions of stillbirths

note: miscarriages happen in 1 out of 4 pregnancies. Most miscarriages are spontaneous, meaning that you did nothing to cause it. miscarriages are never your fault, and it doesn't make you any less of a parent. Angel baby parents are still parents.

Jake couldn’t hide his excitement. It was Y/N’s second ultrasound since she had discovered she was pregnant. It was the appointment where they were finally going to hear their baby’s heartbeat. Even though they had been here twice before, the same butterflies and nervous feelings still arose in their bellies. Jake was trying his best to not crush Y/N’s hand with his strong grip as they waited for the doctor to come in. 

Jake was halfway out of the chair he was sitting in, at eye level with Y/N’s bare belly. His eyes were wide as he was retelling the story of his last dogfight with Rooster and Coyote. Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face as she ran her hand through his soft blonde hair. 

“And then, I broke right, turning right into the sun with Rooster still hot on my tail, but the ol’ man still hasn’t learned any new tricks,” Jake laughed, “He lost me in the sun, and I was able to turn quickly and get behind him to get missile lock on him.” 

“Going to turn this one into an aviator before they’re even born,” Y/N giggled. Jake looked up at her with pure admiration and love in his green eyes. 

“They’ve got a handful of uncles and aunts who will turn them into an aviator if I don’t,” Jake said as there was a soft knock on the door. Y/N sat up on her elbows and told whoever it was to come in, but Jake’s eyebrows furrowed at the young nurse who walked through the door, “Where’s Doctor Carpenter?” 

The nurse smiled at him as she walked to the ultrasound machine, “She’s with another mother right now, but she’ll be here soon.” Y/N nodded and laid back down on the exam table, “My name is Margaret, and I’ll be doing the initial look, taking a few pictures and then Doctor Carpenter will be in.” 

“Okay,” Y/N nodded, feeling the grip of nerves in her throat. Jake could feel the anxiety rolling off his wife in waves and squeezed his wife’s hand. Y/N looked over at him, as Jake raised their conjoined hands to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. 

“How have you been feeling, Mrs. Seresin?” Margaret asked. 

“Oh please, call me Y/N,” Y/N said softly, “I’ve been feeling more tired than usual with this one. It’s our third baby,” Jake gave her hand a squeeze, “But lately, my back has been hurting, I’ve had these weird dizzy spells, just overall felt like crap.” 

Margaret nodded as she put some of the cool gel on Y/N’s belly. Y/N let out a shaky breath as Margaret pressed the transducer to Y/N’s lower belly. She always hated this part of the exam, feeling like her bladder was going to explode from the pressure. 

Jake sucked in a breath as he watched Y/N stare up at the ceiling. She was uncomfortable and Jake hated that. “Did you hear about Dragon’s wedding present for Rooster?” Y/N looked at her husband and shook her head, “Well apparently, it was a fancy little picture book. Rooster was actually speechless, and you know that man is nev-” 

“How far along are you?” Margaret asked, interrupting Jake. He looked up at her, noticing the pinched look on her face. 

“12 weeks,” Y/N nodded, “But isn’t that on my chart?” 

Margaret nodded and plastered a fake smile on her face, “Y-yeah, yes, it’s just that-” 

Jake’s shoulders squared as he stood up from his seat, “That what? What’s wrong?” 

Margaret set the transducer down and turned to face both of them, “I’m not seeing anything on the ultrasound.” 

“What?” Y/N looked from the nurse to Jake and back at the nurse. She felt her heart start to race as she pushed herself up on her elbows, “There’s. . .there’s no baby? I lost the-” 

“I don’t know,” Margaret said, “I-I’m not really authorized to read-” 

“How about you go find someone who is?” Jake said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. Margaret nodded rapidly and scurried out of the room with her head down. Jake scoffed and ran his hand through his hair, his jaw clenched shut, “What a fucking joke. Can you-” He looked down at his wife to find tears running down her cheeks, “Hey, sweets, what’s wrong?” 

“There’s no baby,” Y/N cried, and Jake wrapped her in his strong embrace. 

“We don’t know that,” Jake said, his voice strong and steady, “The nurse even said she’s not authorized to read it.” He pulled Y/N away from his chest and held her face in his hands. She looked up into his green eyes, “You hear me? We can’t jump to conclusions yet.” Y/N closed her eyes and nodded her head, not really believing a word Jake said. And to be honest, he wasn’t even sure if he believed what he said either. 

Jake gently shifted Y/N’s body so he could sit on the edge of the small exam table and hold his wife. They waited in painful silence for the doctor to come in. The only sound was the occasional sniffle from Y/N, which was followed by Jake pressing his lips to the top of her head. A small knock pulled them out of their quiet embrace as their usual doctor walked into the room. Jake felt some relief in his body, but the look on the doctor’s face didn’t help ease much of it. 

“I’m sorry for the wait,” Doctor Carpenter said, giving them both a sad smile, “Let’s see what’s going on.” She quickly went to the ultrasound machine. Jake moved off the exam table and stood by her side, holding her hand in both of his. 

Doctor Carpenter did the same thing as the nurse had done previously, putting the cold gel on Y/N’s belly and spreading it around her lower abdomen. Y/N looked up at the ceiling as Jake’s eyes were on the black-and-white screen in front of him. Doctor Carpenter worked in silence as she moved the transducer around, freezing on a spot, and taking a picture, before moving to another spot. The silence stretched for about ten minutes before Doctor Carpenter sighed, and placed the transducer down.  

Y/N closed her eyes as she felt Doctor Carpenter’s eyes on her. She couldn’t hear the words that came out of the doctor’s mouth but felt Jake squeeze her hand. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N and Jake, but there isn’t a viable fetus present,” Doctor Carpenter said, “I’m afraid Y/N has had what we call a spontaneous miscarriage. It doesn’t present like a normal. . .” 

It was all a blur after that. 

She could hear the door to the exam room shut. She could feel Jake move to lean over her and run a hand through her hair. She could faintly make out the sound of his voice as he spoke to her. She could feel him hold her in his arms, rubbing her back and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She could hear him sniffle and wipe away the tears from under his eyes. 

The car ride home was quiet, as Y/N leaned her head against the window, looking at the familiar landscape pass her by. Jake would occasionally glance over at her, noticing the hand that sat protectively on her belly. He shifted in his seat and looked at his wife again. 

Jake cleared his throat, “Are you in pain?” 

“Not physically,” Y/N answered, “It’s just. . . when you think about a miscarriage or losing a baby, you imagine blood and pain, not. . .” Y/N fought back tears, her mind trying to come up with the right words to say. Jake reached his hand across the center console and grabbed hers. Neither of them said another word as they drove the rest of the way home. 

When they arrived home, Jake noticed Amelia Benjamin’s bike by the front door. She usually babysat the kids after school while Jake & Y/N were at work. It was supposed to be a happy night, while Jake and Y/N shared pictures of their unborn child, and listen as Alex and Ella argued about whether it was going to be a boy or a girl. Now, all Y/N felt was dread of having to face her children and her parents. 

“Why don’t you go into the house from the garage and up the back steps,” Jake said, looking at his wife, “And I’ll go corral the kids to the backyard.” Y/N nodded her head in agreement, “I’ll be up soon and draw you a bath-” 

“I just want to lay in bed,” Y/N said, looking at Jake, “I’m okay. . . or I will be anyway.” 

Jake gave her a smile. Y/N was one of the toughest women he knew. She had to be tough when being married to an aviator. Nothing in Jake’s life was ever promised and Y/N had known that first hand. She had watched as partners of fellow aviators had been given folded flags instead of getting to hug their loved ones again. She always feared losing Jake, never one of her own babies. 

“I’m going to go in now,” Y/N said and Jake nodded. 

“Y/N,” Jake called her name as he stepped out of the truck. She looked up at him, “I love you, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Y/N smiled, “I love you too, with all my heart and all my being.” 

Jake took a moment, trying to gather his thoughts as he watched Y/N walk into the house. He turned the truck off and gathered his duffle bag from the back seat, before making his way to the backyard where he could hear the loud laughter of his kids. 

The second that Jake opened the gate to the backyard, Alex and Ella ran right to him. He greeted them with his usual bright smile and kiss on the cheek. He thanked Amelia for watching them and paid her. Then he stood on the front porch with Alex and Ella as Amelia rode her bike the two blocks it took to get to her house. 

“C’mon, let’s go get a snack,” Jake said, leading his kids inside the house. Alex climbed up on the stool at the kitchen island, while Jake sat Ella down on hers. He cut them up an apple, splitting it between the two of them, and giving them each a big dollop of peanut butter to go with. 

“Where’s Mommy?” Alex asked, looking around the kitchen for the usual bright ball of sunshine that was Y/N Seresin. 

“She’s uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “She’s not feeling well. She’s laying down right now.” 

“What wrong wit Mommy?” Ella asked, looking up at Jake with those big green eyes. Jake knew that at some point in time, they needed to talk to the kids about what happened, but he was hoping that he would have some time to gather his thoughts before telling them. If it was up to Jake, he would wait to talk to them, but he also knew that Y/N hated keeping things from them. 

“Your mommy,” Jake shook his head, “We found out today that. . . we lost the baby.” The room was silent for a moment as the five and two-and-a-half-year-old were trying to come to terms with what their father just said. How does one even explain the circle of life to kids? 

“How?” Ella asked. 

“I’m not really sure, Elles,” Jake said, running his hand over her blonde hair, “Sometimes, it just happens. There’s no explanation. There’s no reason. Sometimes, God decides he needs the baby a bit more than we do.” 

Alex blinked a couple of times, staring at the bottom wrung of the chair that Steve had chewed up, “Is that Baby with Uncle Bradley’s mom and dad?” 

Jake nodded, “Yeah. The baby is with Uncle Bradley’s mom and Dad, and Grandpa Seresin, and the dog your mommy had as a child, and Aunt Dragon’s babies.” 

“I don’t wike that,” Ella pouted, as the tears slowly started to roll down her cheeks. Jake cooed and walked over to her, picking her up in his arms, and holding her head against his chest as she cried. 

“I know, baby girl, I know,” Jake sniffled, “No one does. It’s hard to lose the people you love,” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, “All we can do now, is show mama some love, give her some extra cuddles. She’s going to be sad for a while.” 

“I wanna go to Mommy,” Ella mumbled and Jake nodded. He carried Ella in his arms and walked up the stairs toward their shared room. Alex stayed in his spot, still staring at that beat-up wrung of the stool. 

Jake knocked softly on the bedroom door, waiting for the invite from Y/N to let him in. He knew not to overcrowd her and make her feel uncomfortable. Sometimes Y/N reminded him of a scared, feral dog that had been kicked one too many times. But her quiet, soft voice granted him permission to come in, and Jake gently pushed the door open. 

Y/N was facing the door and looked up to see her baby girl with tears rolling down her cheeks. Y/N gave Jake a sad smile and shifted a bit in bed to make room for Ella. Silently, Jake stepped across the threshold and brought Ella to Y/N. 

“My baby girl, what are the tears for?” Y/N asked Ella, as Jake pulled back the covers and gently placed her next to her mom. 

“I don’t want you to be sad,” Ella mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“I know,” Y/N said softly, “I’ll only be sad for a little while, I promise.” She pulled Ella in close to her chest and rubbed her back. Ella was like Jake in so many ways, that the small gesture was a sure way to make them both fall asleep. 

Jake smiled at his girls before returning downstairs to make Y/N some tea. Alex was still in the same spot as he was when Jake went upstairs. He eyed his child as he filled and set the kettle on the stove. Jake always felt like he had a hard time connecting with Alex. Y/N was already four months pregnant with him when Jake came home from a mission. And Jake had to leave when he was only three months old for another mission. Alex was also the complete opposite of his father and Jake struggled to find things they had in common. 

“What’re you thinking about, Lex?” Jake asked, leaning against the counter. 

“Do you know where I can get white roses?” Alex said, looking up at his dad. Jake’s eyebrows furrowed, “Uncle Rooster always gets Aunt Dragon white roses on Ida’s birthday. He says they are for membrance.” 

“Remembrance,” Jake said, “And I think I know a place where we can get some.” 

— — — 

Three days later, Jake and Alex were in the middle of Y/N’s garden, while she sat in a chair with Ella. Doctor Carpenter told her to take the next couple of days easy while her body and mind processed the news of the miscarriage. The kids had been a great help, keeping Y/N’s mind off the loss and giving her the extra cuddles that she didn’t know she needed. 

“White Roses love the sun,” Y/N said, as Alex finished digging the whole, “You picked a perfect spot, Alex.” 

The little boy wiped the sweat from his brow as Jake brought over the poted plant, “Thanks, momma.” 

“Alright Ella, you want to come help with this?” Jake asked, and the little girl happily obliged. She wiggled out of her moms lap and walked over to where the two boys were standing. 

Jake gently pulled the rose bush from the bucket it sat in, remembering all the critiques Y/N gave him while he helped her plant to other flowers in the garden. Ella and Alex cupped the bottom of the plant as they gently eased it into the hole. Y/N stood up from her chair and walked over to her family, watching as the kids covered the base of the rose bush with fresh soil. She felt the sting of tears in her eyes as Jake put his arm around her, pulling her flush against his side. 

“There!” Alex said, clapping the dirt off of his hands, “Do you like it?!” 

“We love it, baby,” Jake smiled, “Now come here! Family hug!” Y/N giggled as the kids ran right towards their legs, hugging them tightly, “I love you guys, with all my heart, and all my being.”

taglist: @damrlova @shanimallina87 @phoenix1388 @mygyn @cherrycola27 @yanna-banana @seitmai @topgun-imagines @bradleybeachbabe @na-ta-sh-aa @startrekfangirl2233 @xoxabs88xox @atarmychick007 @lunamoonbby @sophiaslastbraincell @bradswolfe @fandom-princess-forevermore @dempy @lovelywiseprincess @krismdavis @eternallyvenus @dakotakazansky @pono-pura-vida @callsignharper @callsignartemis @starberryhorse @daggersquadphantom @gspenc @poppyalice2001 @els-marvelvsp @nyx2021 @t0kyoreveng3rs @frazie99 @spencvrr @kmc1989 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @toobouquet @malindacath @justenoughmadness @sagittarius-flowerchild

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#top gun #top gun imagine #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun angst #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick angst #Jake seresin #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin x y/n #Jake seresin angst #jake seresin x shy!wifey #Jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #hangman angst

[croimilis]

If the World was Ending

title: if the world was ending

character: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x ex!reader (he calls them peach/peaches)

rating:  13+ 

words:  10k + 

themes: angst, hurt-comfort

warnings: hangmans an asshole (with good intentions), cursing, alcohol, drunkneness, crying, heartbreak, soft hangman,  discussions of depressive episode, minor snooping?

summary: “would you love me for the hell of it? all our fears would be irrelevant” 

Despite breaking up 5 years ago, you are the one person Jake would turn to if the world was ending, which it might be given he thought the only time he would see you again would be the end of the world. The worst part, he didn’t even mean to call you. Didn’t even know your cell number was still in service, or that you were in the same city as him and yet here you are, ushering him gently into your car and taking him home. 

a/n: this is part of the ‘fly me to the moon’ universe. parts of this are rushed and not great as i wanted to get it out, never the less, i hope you enjoy.

tags:  @xoxabs88xox​

Jake was absolutely fucked, the room was spinning and he could barely stand by himself and had to be supported by Coyote, who was currently helping him out of the bar. They were the last two standing from the group of Rooster’s groomsmen who had gone out for an unofficial bachelor party and Coyote only really stayed to make sure Hangman didn’t hurt himself or drown himself in his sorrows completely. 

Coyote leans his best friend against the brick wall of the bar and looks him up and down with a sigh. Hangman was usually so good at holding his liquor, was good at making sure he didn’t overdo it and yet here he was, as if he was a barely legal college student experiencing the freedom of legally drinking once again. He was a mess and Coyote didn’t know what to do with him.

Coyote crossed his arms and gave his friend a stern look, “Stay here.” He goes only a foot or so away to make a call, his eyes lingering on Jake to make sure he did as he was told. As the person on the other side of the phone answers with a soft hello, Coyote turns away for a few seconds. 

In that time, Jake clumsily fishes his phone out of his pocket and struggles to unlock it, entering the passcode in wrong twice before face id kicked in and it unlocked automatically. He smiled wistfully at the image on his home screen, it was years old but it was still one of his favourites that he transferred between phones.  In his inebriated state, he only wanted one person and he scrolled through his contacts until he reached the one he wanted in the ‘L’ section labelled as ‘love of my life’. 

He presses the call button, like he had done a million times before but unlike the times before it doesn’t ring out. Instead, after a few rings, there's an answer and a soft and muffled ‘hello?’ is spoken from the other side. Jake's eyes widened slightly and his head rolled back against the brick of the bar. He wasn’t expecting you to pick up, certainly wasn’t expecting to hear your voice again after 5 years and the sound made him dizzy.

Another ‘hello?’ comes through the line, this time followed by a gentle “Jake?” He smiles at the sound, having missed it all these years, and melts a little on the inside the same way he used to when you were his. “Miss ya peaches.” His words slur together and, combined with the southern twang of his accent now fully presenting itself, you struggle to understand what he’s saying, your eyebrows creasing together as you slowly sit up in your bed, 

“Why are you calling me at 3am?” Your voice is soft, but still holds a firmness in it that you usually used when you were cross at him. Despite the crossness in your tone, he still relished in the sound and closed his eyes to memorise your voice once again. A few seconds of silence roll by and Jake hears shuffling on your side, you’re moving to swing your legs off your bed, shoving your feet into the running shoes you always kept by your bed.

“Jake.” He hums in response, and you roll your eyes on the other side. You knew rightly that he was drunk beyond belief, it was the only time the cocky pilot was ever this quiet and not firing off some flirty remark. “Where are you?” 

His eyes look at the signboard outside the bar, the writing was blurry and unfocused and if only the goddamn thing would stop spinning he would be able to tell you for certain where he was, “The Fo…Frog and the…” He squints his eyes to see if that would help, it didn’t really, “meal..smart” 

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion and you let out a small sigh, the gears in your mind grinding to try and make sense of what he was saying when it finally hit you, “You mean the Dog and the Metal Smith in San Diego?” 

“That’s the one.” You can hear the grin in his voice through the speaker and you just sigh as you lift yourself from your bed, grabbing an old jumper that was on your vanity as you walked past, “Stay there, I’m coming for you”. 

You hang up your phone and Hangman lets a goofy smile spread across his face, one that has Coyote concerned as he turns back to his friend, his own conversation over.  Jake looked like the cat that ate the canary the way his lips spread in a cheshire cat grin and so Coyote approached him apprehensively. 

“Hangman…” He places a hand on his friend's shoulder, leaning down slightly so he could look Jake’s slouched form in the eyes, “Phoenix is gonna be here in 15 to bring us home.” 

A giggle passes through Hangman’s lips and Coyote almost flinches back, it was a sound he hadn’t heard from Jake before. It was foreign and a far cry from the confident man he knew, more so verging on a sound made by a lovesick school girl when discussing their crush, and suddenly Coyote’s concern level rises. 

“Jake….dude are you okay?” Jake looks at Coyote, and he looks almost as love sick as he sounded, “(Y/N)’s coming to get me Javy”. 

Coyote lets out a small sigh, eyes trailing over his friend with sympathy. 5 years later and he still wasn’t over you. “(Y/N)’s not coming buddy.” 

Another giggle passes through Hangman’s lips as he thrusts his phone toward Coyote, the device still unlocked, and Coyote takes it from his hands with a questioning glance before he looks at it. It was on the recent call screen and there it was, “Love of my life….5:00”. Coyote still didn’t believe it. The number could have been reassigned to someone new and Hangman was probably just mumbling incoherent nonsense to some poor stranger on the other line. Coyote was going to break the news to Hangman, but one look at his friend's face and he stopped. He looked hopeful, almost childlike with glee, and Coyote couldn’t take that away from him. 

It had been obvious since Rooster had announced his engagement to Angel that something was off with Hangman, the other’s didn’t notice it but having known the Texan for so long Coyote noticed. Though he smiled and congratulated the couple, it didn’t really reach his eyes. Instead, there was a lingering sadness in his eyes and maybe a look of regret. And usually, Jake was the life of the party but the night of the announcement, and even tonight, Jake was quiet and reserved. Keeping to himself for most of the night, simply observing the rest of the pilots as they celebrated with eyes glazed over as though his mind was a million miles away.  

Coyote had his suspicions as to why, had managed to pull a small confession from the man after a few beers at his place, though it was like trying to pull teeth, in which Jake admitted to that it reminded him of the biggest mistake of his life. Coyote was then able to put the pieces together, he knew what Jake's biggest regret was, it was you. Well, not you as a person, not your relationship with him, god your relationship with him was probably the best thing that ever happened, what he regretted was leaving. 

Coyote let out a small sigh before leaning against the wall beside his friend, watching him from the corner of his eye as he simply stared up at the sky with a lovesick look and a goofy grin on his face. He was going to be heartbroken when he realises you weren’t actually coming. They stand for that for a little bit, Hangman simply staring up at the starless sky and Coyote watching him carefully to make sure he doesn’t tumble to the ground and hurt himself, or choke on his own vomit. 

The sound of a car pulling up causes Coyote to turn his eyes away from Jake for a few seconds to check if it was Phoenix who had pulled up, it shouldn’t have been because she had said she was going to be at least 15 minutes and it had only been about 10, and it isn’t. The car that pulls up is an old ford truck that Coyote instantly recognises from the bit of customised body work on the side of an apple tree with your family name through the bark. His eyes widen and his jaw goes slack as you climb out of the driver's side, having instantly spotted the inebriated blonde leaning against the wall.  

“(Y/N)” 

He tries, and fails, to hide the shock in his voice and his face as you give him a small smile. “Hey Coyote.”

He props himself up from the wall and gives you a hug, you were friends before everything went down and he missed you. “What are you doing here?” You return the hug and give him a small squeeze, you adored Coyote and had missed him as well. The two of you would frequently have wine nights together whenever he was in town while you and Jake were still together.

“I’ve come to take the cowboy home.” 

As you pull away from Coyote your eyes rake over Jake's figure slumped against the wall, he had yet to see you instead keeping his eyes on the night sky his mind somewhere other than the present moment. You had only seen Jake this drunk once before, it was at a frat party while you were in college (he had gotten some time away from the naval academy and had come to visit you) and he had got into a testosterone filled competition with one of the members and ended up doing a high number of mystery shots and a keg stand. The night ended with you dragging him back to your room at your sorority next door and Jake admitting to be in love with you. 

“Do you know where he lives?”

You look up at Coyote and shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t but I don’t live too far and was planning on bringing him to mine.”  Coyote nods slowly at your words, he had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft. He was surprised you were here, mainly because he wasn’t convinced Jake had actually managed to get in contact with you but also because he knew Jake had broken your heart 5 years ago, your life had fallen apart because of the man and yet, here you were. You always were a caring soul, one that was prepared to drop everything for someone you loved and cared for no matter how long ago it was you loved them.

“It might be best to take him to his own place, that way he’s close to base if he gets called in suddenly, I can give you the address.” 

“Okay, let me get him into the truck first”

You approached Jake slowly, afraid to startle him with how drunk he is but he fails to notice you even as you stand directly in front of him. He was well and truly gone and you wondered if he would remember any of this in the morning. You reach out and gently touch his shoulder. 

“Jake?” Your voice is soft, again trying not to startle the man, and you could swear that the goofy smile he was wearing got bigger at the sound of your voice. Slowly his head dips forward from where it was leaning against the wall so that Jake is now looking at you.

“Peaches!” While your voice had been soft and quiet, Jake’s was loud and a little high-pitched as he called your name out in surprise, and you jump at it slightly since you weren’t expecting the volume. Jake clumsily pushes himself off the wall, standing to his full height while stumbling a little, and wraps his arms around your body to pull you into a tight hug. 

You let out a small grunt at the force he uses to pull you into him and though you wrap your arms around Jake, more so to steady the tall blonde than anything, you cringe at the smell. You were used to Jake smelling fresh, like clean linens and whatever aftershave or cologne he was wearing, but now he absolutely stunk of whiskey and cheap beer. You scrunch your nose up at the smell and Coyote chuckles at the sight, causing you to flip him off as you manage to pull back from Jake’s death grip. 

“Let’s get you home cowboy.” 

Jake hums and sways where he stands as you fully separate from him and take a step back expecting him to follow you, but he just stands there with the goofy, toothy grin still on his face as he watches you. You huff and cross your arms over your chest, looking over to Coyote for help, “Come on cowboy, I ain’t strong enough to carry ya.” 

Instead of replying, he just reaches his arms out to you wanting nothing more than to have you in them once again. You sigh again and Coyote lets out another chuckle, which gets a quick glare from you, but he steps forward and wraps his arms around his friend. “C’mon bud, let’s get you into the truck.” 

You mouth a quick ‘thank you’ to Coyote as you walk around and open the door of your truck as Jake stumbles behind you with the help of Coyote. “C’mon, in you get.”  

You step to the side of the door to allow Jake to climb in, which he struggles to do. He misses the step a few times, causing giggles to spill from his lips every time he misses and small ‘yes!’ to slip when he finally gets the step and manages to push himself into the truck. You affectionately roll your eyes at his antics and smile to yourself as you reach in and make sure his seatbelt is buckled. 

As you finish buckling him in, he reaches for your face and turns you toward him for a kiss but you swerve your head just in time so his lips land on your cheek instead. You close your eyes as you feel your heart clench at the action, and you hate yourself for it especially as you close the door and see the sad look in his eyes and pouting lips. But you have to ignore it, if you didn’t your resolve would break and you would be left heartbroken all over again. 

You join Coyote at the front of the car and lean against the hood with your arms crossed, matching his pose but your eyes are cast to the sky while his lingers on you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the soft summer breeze and the presence of one another. You always felt safe with Coyote, like you could lay the very secrets of the universe at his feet and he wouldn’t tell a soul, his energy was calming. 

The quiet was broken by Coyote, who had been eying you up and down with his eyes lingering on the oversized jumper with a faded imprint of ‘Navy’ on your figure that obviously belonged to Jake at one point in time.

“I can’t believe you came.” You shifted from looking towards the sky to looking toward the ground as you let out a small sigh before looking up at Coyote. 

“Neither can I.” 

“Why did you?” 

You sigh once again, something you seem to be doing a lot tonight, and shrug your shoulders as you chew on your bottom lip. You didn’t even know why you came yourself, for all intents and purposes you should absolutely despise Jake Seresin. Should hate him with your entire being. Yet, you can’t. Something inside of you just refuses to let you hate him, probably that stupid part of your heart and mind that still clings onto the love you had for him. 

“I don’t know.” 

Coyote doesn’t question you further and the two of you fall into silence once again, one that Coyote once again breaks as he glances back at your car. “Can’t believe you're still driving this thing.” 

You snort and smile up at him, “Please, as if I was gonna let him into my jag like this.” 

Coyote lets out a low whistle as he raises an eyebrow, “A jag? Damn girl, have you gone all upper class on us?” You roll your eyes and push at his shoulder with a laugh. You had genuinely missed Coyote, missed the banter with him.

“How ya getting home, Javy?” 

“A friend, Phoenix..er.. Natasha is coming to get me.” 

You nod your head, a contentment settling inside you knowing that Javy was going to be safe seeing as your truck only fit you and Jake into it. Speaking off, you glance back into the car and see that Jake had his head thrown back against the headrest with his eyes closed. He looked like he was sleeping and part of you felt relieved that you wouldn’t have to try and converse with the drunk Texan while you brought him home. 

“Speaking off, here she is.” 

You look back ahead of you, seeing a brunette step out of a car with a bit of a sour look on her face, probably from being woken up at such an unreasonable hour to come pick up her idiot friends. Coyote turns to you as she approaches, telling you Jake's address and giving you a tight hug that you gladly return and whispering a quiet ‘take care of him’ as he pulls away. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll uh… I’ll stay the night. Make sure he doesn’t choke to death in his sleep, y’know.” Coyote chuckles at your comment and places a quick kiss to your forehead as you round him and head to the driver side door, hearing the brunette grumpily ask who you and why you have Jake in your van, smiling slightly as Javy simply says your an old friend before the conversation fades out as you close the door. 

---

For the most part, the drive back to Jake's place is relatively quiet. He had, in fact, fallen asleep in the five minutes you stood with Coyote and waited for his ride to arrive. The only sound is the rumbling of your engine alongside the soft snores and grumbling that fall from Jake’s lips until a rough speed ramp jolts him awake. 

Waking with a start, Jakes head whips from side to side as he tries to figure out where he was, if only the world around him would stop spinning for two seconds. He groans loudly, head falling forward as he closes his eyes to stop the spinning and the nausea starting to creep its way through his body.

“Sorry.” Your voice is gentle as you glance at him from the side of your eye, concern falling into place on your face as you watch the aviator try and right himself. Another small groan falls from Jake’s lips in response as he lifts his palms and digs them into his eyes, rubbing gently at them in a desperate attempt to prevent the spinning from happening again once he opens his eyes. 

“Here” You had reached down into the console beside you and lifted a bottle of water that you had grabbed from your fridge as you rushed out the door, the bottle was slightly slippery with the condensation that covered it. Jake's eyes opened, and though the world had stopped spinning like he was on a carousel it swayed gently and he was still seeing double, something that was evident as he reached for the bottle of water and missed. 

After a few tries, in which his face scrunches up in concentration, he finally gets it and gives a small mumbled ‘thank you’. You smile to yourself, biting down on your lip to suppress the giggle that was bubbling its way to the surface slowly, which became even more difficult as Jake struggled to open the bottle in his hands. 

Finally a small giggle slipped past your lips and Jake's look of concentration finally broke as he smiled at the sound, you always had the most beautiful laugh and he was so happy he got to hear it again in person. In the time since you’re break up, on nights he couldn’t sleep, he would watch old videos he had taken of you just to hear your laugh after he told some stupid joke. It was during the nights that Jake missed you the most, when he was at his most vulnerable and the adrenaline from the day faded, leaving him with little to distract him from his thoughts. 

Which was how he found himself with a new woman in his bed almost every night, his reputation as a playboy developing out of a habit of not wanting to be alone. Of wanting something, or someone there to distract him. But even then it didn’t help, when the fun was over and the women were asleep his mind still drifted, memories of you at the forefront of every thought and how no one would ever compare to you. 

Jake had regretted breaking up with you every day of his life since he left, but Jake Seresin was nothing if not a proud man and refused to acknowledge the regret, instead burying it so deep inside himself that he came of as callous or cruel whenever someone mentioned your name and he simply dismissed it, moving the conversation on in such a manner that it made it seem like he regretted the relationship itself, though that was such a far cry from the truth. Each day he craved and yearned for you, but he was too proud to admit it. 

Too proud to admit he had made a mistake. Too proud to let anyone know that every night he lay awake and thought about having you in his arms once again, thinking about what would have happened if he had stayed. Would you have settled down by now? Would you be living the picket-fence dream that you have had since you were a child? You and him and a couple of little rugrats running around one of your family farms? He imagined it all in those sleepless nights, how much different life would have been and how much happier he could have been if he had just stayed. 

Jake says nothing as he finally manages to unscrew the lid of the water bottle and downs the entire bottle, it doesn’t sober him up completely but it makes the room stop spinning a little and it settles the nausea climbing up his throat. He wants to speak, wants to say anything just to have a conversation with you but a little voice in the back of his mind tells him he’s better staying quiet. Better not ruining a moment he may never experience again. Better off just basking in your presence in the car next to him. 

The silence between the two of you isn’t awkward like one would expect, it’s calm and serene as if you were simply two friends, maybe two lovers on a midnight drive just watching the lights of San Diego whizz by as you drive. But it had been a long time since the two of your were lovers, an even longer time since you were just friends, and a voice in the back of your mind reminds you not to get comfortable that when morning comes you would leave before he ever wakes up and that he probably won’t even remember anything, so there was no point in trying, no matter how desperately your heart was screaming at you that this was your chance to rekindle the love you once had for Jake. The love you truthfully still had for him if you were to be honest with yourself, but you were rarely honest with yourself when it came to your emotions. It was hard to be after locking them away for so long.

You arrive in Fightertown quite quickly, the streets of San Diego almost completely empty and letting you drive without having to stop, and you’re quick to follow street signs until you reach the street Coyote told you slowing down the car and looking at the house numbers as you drove past to make sure you were stopping at the right one. Though, you ended up not needing to use the numbers recognizing Jake’s pride and joy sitting in the driveway, the same old truck he got in high school that he meticulously maintained to this very day. 

You smile to yourself, pulling into the space behind it before turning to Jake, who was already staring at you with a small smile on his face and a wistful look in his eyes. It was a look you were all too familiar with, one you wore yourself countless times whenever anyone brought Jake up or when you visited home and you passed by Jake’s family ranch, his parents always wanted to see you but you always claimed you were busy.

It would have broken your heart to see them, they had been like family to you growing up and even more so when you and Jake got together with his mom and nana always insisting that they knew you and their Jake were gonna get married one day.  You had seen them once since the breakup, at your brother's wedding a year after you broke up and they insisted that their Jakey was still in love with you, that he always wrote to them and always always asked about you and how you were doing but that just tore your heart to shreds again after you had just started to piece it back together again. So you hadn't seen them since, it was selfish and you knew that, knew they missed you because your momma always let you know that they were asking about you and when you were gonna come see them, but you couldn’t put yourself through that pain again. 

You’re shaken from your thoughts by Jake's soft voice calling out the all too familiar nickname he had given you in high school, “Peaches?” You let out a shaky breath and blink away the tears starting to form your eyes as Jake reaches out to wipe them away before they fall, and gods do you wanna reach over and pull him into you. 

Hold him tight to your chest and never let him go again, kiss him again and again until your lips are totally and completely bruised because even drunk out of his mind he was still the most handsome man you had ever seen and his hands on your cheeks almost burned from the heat radiating of them and the blush quickly rushing over your cheeks. 

It was actually the first time he had really touched you since you met him at the bar, had fleetingly touched you to try and kiss you when you buckled him in but this was different. This was tender and soft as he wiped at your lash line as tears continued to fill your eyes despite your best attempts to keep them down. It reminded you of all the times Jake had held you while you went through law school with every breakdown and exam and rejection. It reminded you of when he loved you and that thought almost ripped your heart out because he didn’t love you, not anymore. He made that clear the day that he left.  

Jerking your head away from his hands, you rub at your eyes as you quickly climb out of your truck and take a few deep breaths before making your way over to Jakes to open the door, prepared to help him out but he manages by himself, only stumbling slightly as he starts towards his door. You were avoiding looking at him, so you miss the frown that has settled on his face, miss the heartbreak in his eyes at the fact that you had pulled away from him.  

You close the door to the jeep, locking it as you walk towards Jake who is fighting with his front door, trying and failing to insert the key into the door. The frown that was on his face had been replaced by a look of frustration with his eyebrows knitted together revealing the furrows that had formed on his forehead over time. Gently you reach out, taking the key from him and insert into the door and turning until you feel it unlock. You open the door and step back, letting Jake step into his home with you following behind and slipping your shoes off at the door. 

“Okay cowboy, let’s get you to bed.” You watch as Jake stumbles about a little, leaning against the walls for support as he slowly makes his way through the halls of his home with you following behind to make sure he didn’t truly fall and injure himself. After about a 5 minute struggle of stumbling and having to stop every second for Jake to lean against the wall to gain his bearings, you finally make it to his room where he flops down on the bed face first. 

You let out a small sigh and poke him on the back a few times, “C’mon you, you can’t sleep in your jeans.” With his face buried into the blanket, Jakes words are muffled and you can’t quite make them out but you were sure he was arguing with you so you just turn away from him and scan the room looking for a dresser. When your eyes land on them, you walk over and begin rifling through them to find a set of sweats and a t-shirt that he could throw on. 

You quickly find a shirt and move onto the last drawer of the dresser, as you pull it out you notice a photo wedged in between all the sweat pants in the drawer (seriously why did one man need so many sweatpants?). Part of you wants to ignore it but another part is filled to the brim with curiosity and you have an internal battle with yourself as to whether or not you should reach in and have a look. 

Ultimately your curiosity wins out and you finally realise why the saying is curiosity killed the cat, the photo is of you and Jake a week before your breakup at your sister's wedding. You looking stunning in your bridesmaid dress and Jake handsome as ever in his fresh pressed suit but where Jake would usually be wearing his cowboy hat, you had it on instead and you both had the widest grins on your face. Your eyes scanned the photo with a sombre smile as your heart constricts as what should have been one of the best weeks of your life, celebrating your sister and her new husband, quickly became your worst. 

Quickly, you shove the photo back into its place and pull out a pair of sweats while wiping the tears from your eyes. With sweats and shirt in hand you walk back over to the bed and poke Jake in the back once again, “I’m going to get you some water and advil for the morning. You better be changed by the time I get back.”  

The tone of your voice is one you usually reserve for clients, or your niece and nephew when you have to be strict with them, its one that demands respect and obedience and Jake lifts his head just enough for you to head a slurred “yes ma’am” pass his lips. You nod your head at the response and leave the room, giving Jake privacy to get changed, and head to the kitchen you passed on the way in. 

It was a mess, takeout wrappers were lying all over the counter and there were empty beer bottles on the small island, dishes were piled up everywhere and it shocked you. Jake was a clean man, the navy had drilled a certain level of cleanliness into him and even before that you knew his momma had drilled it into him. 

You quickly shake the shock out of your system with a shake of your head, it was not your problem. With a quick look through the various cupboards you find a clean glass and fill it almost all the way to the top with water, and quickly find a small drawer full of various medicine including advil which you pop 2 out of the packaging. 

Once you have everything you need, you make your way back to the bedroom and see Jake has managed to get himself out of his clothes but was struggling to get his sweats on, hopping about on one leg as he struggled to get the second leg in. You cock your head to the side slightly, looking at him with an amused smile as he continues to hop around for a few seconds before finally managing to get both legs into the sweats and pulling them onto his hips. Which you were glad for, because you were not prepared to help him get dressed.  

Jake plops himself back into bed, this time on his back, as you place the water and advil beside his alarm clock, making sure to keep your back to Jake as you did not want to see that lovestruck look he seemed to have since you picked him up. You also knew that if you turned round and acknowledge him, he would try and convince you to get into bed with him. To stay the night cuddled up in his arms, and while you missed cuddling up with Jake, this was not the time or place for you to do that. No, you were gonna stay on the sofa and leave in the morning. 

Quickly you turn away from Jake and leave his room, missing the pout on his lips and the way his hands reach out to you for a hug, closing the door behind you just enough that you couldn’t see him but would be able to hear him if he were to fall during the night. With a sigh, you settle down onto the couch for the night, not needing a blanket as the June heat continues into the night. Eventually, after hours of staring at Jake's ceiling you fall asleep to thoughts of how much you missed the blonde. 

---

With a groan, Jake slowly blinks awake. The small amount of light that filtered through his blackout curtains was proving to be too bright as it caused a surge of pain through his head. Which, by the way, felt like there was someone was power drilling into it. Slowly, so as to not provoke his hangover any further, Jake sits himself up in bed with his back against the headboard as he reaches to rub up at his eyes and search his memories for how the hell he got home last night.

Truly he couldn’t remember much after the 4th shot he had taken with Fanboy and Payback, which had been after god knows how many beers and at least 3 whiskeys on the rocks, he could vaguely remember Coyote helping him out the door about 2 hours after the shot, it had been his last drink with Coyote swapping out anything he ordered with a water, but Jake had been none the wiser meaning he was slightly more sober when Coyote was helping him, though his memories were still fuzzy. 

He could remember calling someone, the screen of his phone fuzzy in his memory and the conversation that was had on it completely gone from his mind. He remembered a truck with an apple tree on it and a figure with (texture) (colour) hair, it was weird, he was almost certain it had been you but it most definitely could not have been. 

You weren’t even in San Diego and even if you were, he was sure the number he had for you had been disconnected as he had tried phoning you multiple times since the breakup.  It must have been Phoenix who had got him, though that didn’t seem right when he thought it over. 

Finally pulling his hands away from his eyes, Jake looks to his bedside locker to take in the time and he groans as the digital clock reads 14:00. God he had slept late, the first time since he was a kid, having grown up on the family ranch Jake was always up at 6am almost every morning since he was 10 years old and could go out and help his dad, a habitat which came in handy when adjusting to the military schedule. 

Eyes moving past the clock, Jake clocks a bottle of water and two advil sitting beside it, which didn’t exactly scream Phoenix to him. The girl would relish in the fact that Jake was massively hungover, so maybe Coyote had left it for him. Jake quickly takes the pain killers and downs the whole bottle of water, sitting for a minute with his eyes closed and leaning against the headboard to let the medicine start to take effect. 

Though he was trying to stay in bed until the medicine took effect, the sound of movement in his kitchen puts him on alert. Who would be in his home? Coyote? No, Coyote would have texted him that he was coming over. Rooster? Nah, he was 100% sleeping off his own hangover or spending the day with Angel. 

Gently, Jake slips from the bed and for the first time he notices he’s been changed into a pair of black sweats and an old t-shirt and he scrunches his eyebrows in confusion. He didn’t remember getting changed, still trying to fight to gain the memories of how he got home, and so he hoped that he did it himself not wanting to be embarrassed to find one of his friends had to strip him down out of his jeans and shirt.  

Moving on from his confusion, Jake slowly makes his way out of his room, trying his best to be quiet so as to not spook whoever was moving about the kitchen. As he steps into the kitchen, Jake comes to a standstill and he begins to think he was still drunk or maybe he was high, or just hallucinating due to a combination of sleep deprivation and his hangover. Because here you are, flitting about his kitchen, which was definitely cleaner than when he left the night before.

As you turn towards Jake, you jump and place a hand over your heart to try and stop the rapid beating because, despite it being his apartment, you were not expecting him to be standing behind you looking like he had seen a ghost. 

“Fucking christ Jake!” The shock of the scare finally settles, though the beating of your heart doesn’t. If anything it increased under the intensity of Jake's gaze. It had been a long time since anyone had made your heart beat like this, with such intensity and strength that it felt like it could break your ribs and rip itself out of your chest. In fact, there was only ever one person that made your heart beat like that and he was standing in front of you.  

From the look of confusion on Jake's face you gather that he didn’t remember much of last night, didn’t remember calling you or you picking him up to bring him home and you couldn’t really blame him for not remembering with the amount he had drank, according to the messages you had exchanged with Coyote on your old cell. 

Jake stares at you, his hangover pushed to the back of his mind, leaning against the counter of his kitchen with your arms crossed against your chest and your eyes cast to the ground, avoiding looking at Jake. Jake thought he would never see you again, that you had disappeared from his life forever when you broke up five years ago but here you are. What shocked him even more was the fact that it was you last night, you had come and picked him up and made sure he had gotten home safely, looked like you had stayed the night as well if the dishevelled sofa was any indication. Probably to make sure nothing happened to him in his sleep.  

“You came?” 

You finally look up at Jake, a soft smile on your face and he could melt into the ground at the softness in your eyes. You should hate him, should absolutely despise him, he wouldn’t blame you. He knows he gave you a million and one reasons too when he left, when he broke your heart and left you crying in the corner booth of the cafe. You should hate him, he broke your heart into a million pieces and left the country like a coward while you had to stay in your shared apartment, with your shared friends, in a city you saw yourself settling down with him in and piece yourself back together by yourself. He hated himself for that. 

---

He had asked you to meet him in the little café that was a 20 minute walk from your old highschool that had been opened by one of your highschool friends, you had promised to always drop in when you were in town and had been there quite a few times already since arriving only a week earlier. But he hadn’t been in it since that day, he was sure he would have hot coffee thrown in his face if he dared show his face. 

As usual, the two of you were nestled into the booth in the furthest corner of the cafe, just hidden enough that nobody could see the two of you but you could still see everybody bustling about. It was the perfect spot for people watching, which you usually did, pointing out people you once knew and discussing the latest in their lives (whether or not any of it was true was beside the point), but that day was different. Jake held a tension in his body, one you hadn’t seen before. One that quite frequently scared you, it put you on edge as if one wrong word and Jake would explode. It was like he was teetering on the edge. 

The silence was stiff and thick with the same tension Jake held in his body, it felt suffocating and the air around you felt like it was compressing your chest. Until it was shattered and suddenly it wasn’t the air stopping you from breathing properly but panic as Jake uttered the words you never wanted to hear. 

“I think we should break up.” 

You drop your cup on the table, thankfully it was nearly empty so there wasn’t much of a splash back as the ceramic collided with the table and shattered into thousands of pieces on the table. You were sure that if someone looked at your heart at the very moment, it would be in a similar state. Shattered beyond repair. 

“W-w-what?” You can hardly hear your own voice from the way your heart is thundering in your ears, can barely see the ceramic pieces that have fallen onto your lap as the tears begin to fill your lash line and threaten to ruin your mascara.  

You certainly can’t see the twitch of Jake's jaw and how his eyes are cast out the window of the café avoiding looking at you, afraid that if he did he wouldn’t be able to do this. You don’t see the way he picks at his nail beds or how his adam’s ` apple bobs as he tries to keep his composure and convince himself that this was for the best, that its better for you if he was out of your life. If he broke your heart so you would never think of him again, so you could let him go. 

You want to turn to face him, want to look into his eyes as he does this. But you can’t, your eyes are glued to the space in front of you, pupils wide and mouth open in shock. “I-is there someone else?” The thought absolutely destroyed you, that Jake was cheating on you that he found someone else. You close your eyes so tight that it hurts at the thought, preparing for the impact that yes there was someone else. But what came was so so much worse. 

“There’s no one else. I just don’t love you anymore.” A sob racks through your body and pushes through your lips as the tears that had gathered in your eyes finally springing free and streaking down your face rapidly. Jake closes his eyes at the sound and clenches his fists, each sob you let out breaking his resolve. He needed out. Needed to go before he fully broke. It was better this way. 

So he does. He gets up from the booth and leaves the cafe, not looking back at your shaking form as your friend approached having heard the shattering of the ceramic. It was better this way. Jake would rather you hate him for the rest of your life than you be left heartbroken because he was never coming home. 

---

“You called” 

Your voice is soft as you stop in front of him, your arms still crossed against your chest, and you look up at him through your eyelashes. Jake’s are filled with shock, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. 

“Why?”

“I guess I’m just a sucker for torturing myself.” 

Jake wants to reach for you, to pull you into him and hold you for the first time in 5 years. Wants to wrap his arms around you and never let you go again. But he doesn’t, instead he stays glued to the spot, mouth opening and closing as he tries to form some kind of coherent thought or sentence. 

“H-How?” Jake mentally slaps himself, of course he knew how he had phoned you. But, the number he had for you was disconnected. He knew this because he sent you message after message only for them to not be delivered and he had called for it to go straight to voicemail, he shouldn’t have been able to reach you. 

“I broke my phone and had to pull out my old phone while it’s getting repaired. It was pure luck that it happened now.” 

Jake feels himself nodding along dumly, that made sense, if you had changed phones and left the other one to die and only be used as a backup then of course none of his messages went through, of course none of his calls went through. Jake clears his throat, the ability to think and speak finally returning to him as the shock of seeing you finally settles. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

You shrug your shoulders gently, eyes moving around the now spotless kitchen and the tidy living room, “Wanted to make sure you were okay. That you didn’t choke on your own tongue or anything. I woke up at about 11ish and was going to go home, but I…I couldn’t make myself do it. Was still worried about you so I kept myself busy as you can probably see.”

Jake's eyes move over the kitchen, you always had been an anxious cleaner and if the cleanliness of his kitchen was any indication you were plenty nervous. Though he wasn’t sure if you were anxious about being around him or because you were concerned for his well being.

“I should go now though, I have client meetings later.” 

You go to move around Jake, but he follows your movements and holds his hands up in front of him to stop you. 

“Let me get us lunch as a thank you for looking after me.”

You really shouldn’t, should get going so you can shower and get changed for heading into the office. Should leave and never look back. Shouldn’t let Jake Seresin back into your life. And yet, you just nod your head and tell him “okay”. 

 ---

You sit in a semi awkward silence as you wait for the lunch to arrive, the air is thick with tension and unanswered questions. Jake had a million and one he wanted to ask you about your life, about how much had changed in the past 5 years, about your family, about everything and anything under the sun just to talk to you. You had one question and one question only. 

“Why did you do it?” 

Your voice is soft as you play with the ends of your (Jake's) jumper, eyes cast down to look at what your hands were doing rather than what Jake was doing. 

“Do what?”  You can hear the genuine confusion in his voice and can imagine the way his eyebrows would be all scrunched up as he thought about all the things he did. 

“Tell me you didn’t love me anymore.” 

“It wasn’t true.” Your eyes snap to Jake, watching as he picks at his nail bed and avoids looking at you, and you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion. “What?”

“It wasn’t true. What I said that day.” Jake clears his throat as the words get caught, “I-I lied. I thought it would be easier.” 

You can feel anger rising in you now, disbelief settling in as you raise your eyebrows at Jake. “Fucking easier?” Jake flinches at the harshness in your voice, sinking back against his sofa, as you stand and cross your arms over your chest, scoffing at his comment that it was easier.  

“You broke me Jake. I was depressed for months, had to take time off work because I just could not function enough to get myself out of bed. Desi and Cori were so concerned about me that they alternated staying with me because they were scared for my well being. I stopped eating and ended up in hospital. You think it was fucking easier to tell me you didn’t love me?” 

Jake looks up at you shocked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly, he didn’t realise how much you suffered when he broke up. You were always so strong that he expected you to pick yourself up and go on with life, never realising just how broken he had made you. He gulps down his shock, instead opting to finally tell you the truth as to why he left. 

“I thought it would be easier for you to hate me. I watched wives and partners destroyed with the news that their husbands weren’t coming home and I was being sent away on a mission where there was no guarantee that I would come home. I didn’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to have to bury me.” 

 The anger inside you fades away slowly as you take in his words. He didn’t want you to bury him. You had never thought of that, sure you worried when he went on missions but you stressed about his safety but never once did you consider that he might not come home. Maybe that was idealistic of you, maybe some part of you refused to acknowledge the fact that Jake might not come home to keep you safe, to protect your heart. 

But still a part of the anger remains as you grit your teeth together, “That was not your decision to make Seresin.” 

Jake flinches at your use of his last name and sighs lightly and rubs at his face lightly, “I know I know…I…” He lets out a sigh and reaches out to take your hands into his, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles. “I was stupid and naïve. I thought it would be easier for us both if I just left. You could hate me for the rest of time and I would eventually get over you.” 

Your gaze is harsh, eyes narrowed into a small glare that was slowly softening at every word. 

“But god are you hard to get over, I still think of you…Like every day. I think, hey (Y/N) would love this when I see something I know you’d like. I think about telling you about my day, about how you’re doing and if you ever got that promotion. I dream about settling down with you. About taking over my farm or the orchard with you. About having a family with you. When I’m flying, I think about you. About your smile, about how your eyes light up when you’re talking about something you're passionate about. It grounds me, keeps me level headed because some part of my mind is still telling me I need to make it back alive…that I need to make it back to you.” 

Tears start to gather in your eyes at the confession, and you bite down on your lip as you take a second to compose your own thoughts. You thought about him too, all the time, even when you shouldn’t be. 

“It was stupid.” Jake chuckles at your bluntness but as he looks into your eyes he sees no malice or cruelty behind the words, the glare you previously wore not gone from your gaze. Instead there was a lingering sadness, a pain that seeped into his bones as you stared at him. 

“And it was mean and callous and cruel, and I should hate you Jake Serein. With every fibre in my body I should despise you. But…I…I just can’t.” You let out a shaky breath, a few tears now falling from your eyes, “God I wish I could hate you. It would make my life so much easier, would make it so much easier to just move on with my life. But…but part of me still loves you. Still wants you. Still thinks about you, every goddamn day.” 

Jake stands, he wants to pull you into him and kiss you until the sun goes down and he would have, had the front door not gone with the delivery driver standing outside with your lunch. Instead, Jake hangs his head and lets out a sigh before lifting your hand to his and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. 

---

Lunch is quickly eaten and, needing some air, you suggest going for a walk in the neighbourhood after you cancelled all your afternoon appointments citing you were feeling unwell and didn’t want to pass it on, as partner no one really questioned you. The walk is nice and you feel nostalgic. Though the warning bells are going off in your mind telling you to walk away, that nothing good can come out of this. That, despite the fact you had forgiven Jake for what happened, you didn’t know if you were ready for this again. But those warning bells are drowned out by the sound of your beating heart rushing in your ears, encouraging you to give in to your desires for once, to give in to the feeling of once again being loved by Jake. 

You walk for hours, the confessions earlier in the day opening you up to talking like old friends would, the vulnerability you both showed letting you open up to once another once again. Catching up on the intricacies of each others lives that you had missed, you let Jake know you were now an aunt to a darling little niece called Adeline and a menace of a nephew Carson who wanted nothing more than to help his mom and dad in the orchard and loved to climb trees to do this, almost giving your sister a heart attack in the process, and Jake lets you know that his baby sister is engaged to her high school sweetheart who was now teaching at the school with a wedding due in September time so they avoid the scorching summer heats. 

You tell him about making partner at your firm and being relocated to run the San Diego office and he is so so proud of you and how far you’ve come. He tells you all about the dagger squad and how much he’s loving being in San Diego but misses home and can’t wait to get home in a few weeks time for the wedding, which he has a plus one for by the way. 

It’s like old times, you fall into the conversation with such ease it was like you were never separated. Like you were never angry at him. 

By the time sunset arrives, you and Jake are standing side by side on the beach admiring the changing of colours in the sky when suddenly the colours of the sky are blocked out by the figure of the tall blonde. Both your confessions from earlier still hang in the air, seeing as you were interrupted by the delivery driver at the door and you avoided the conversation your entire walk, finding something new to talk about whenever a silence fell between the two of you to avoid it coming. 

Because, frankly, you were terrified. It had been such a long time since you had let yourself be so emotionally vulnerable and that was scary, you were scared of Jake was going to react, despite practically ripping his heart out and placing it in your hands himself.  

You raise an eyebrow as your heart begins to pound in your heart, Jake looked serious and his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he tried to think of what he wanted to say, didn’t know how much more he could say after spilling his heart out. 

“Can we- can we try again?” Though that wasn’t exactly the words Jake wanted, the words having been already spoken earlier, his voice is soft as he reaches out to you, hand moving gently up your neck to cup your jaw with his thumb rubbing soft circles on your cheeks. You lean into the touch, against your better judgement, and let your eyes flutter close your own hands reaching out to touch Jake.  

You wanted to, god did you want to give Jake another chance, but again the alarm bells were firing of in your head and this time they were hard to ignore. They were reminding you that Jake was still enlisted, he could be shipped off again to god knows where and you wouldn’t be able to follow, he might not come home, he might not come home and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 

“I’m scared Jake.” You let out a shuddering breath, eyes opening to look into Jake’s. There was nothing but gentleness and love reflected back at you, and god how you missed looking into his eyes. Missed the tender moments where you would just hold one another and bask in each other’s presence, enjoying gentle caresses and fleeting touches used to ground one another. “I…can’t…I can’t do that again. I can’t go back to that dark place” Your eyes fall to where your hands are placed on Jakes chest, the temptation to draw them back and retreat flowing through your mind. 

Your voice is rough and breaking as your eyes gloss over with tears at the thought of him breaking your heart again, at the thought of him leaving, of him dying, and he couldn’t blame your mistrust. Couldn’t blame your fear. A second hand is quickly up and cupping your jaw, fingers now wiping away the tears forming in your eyes. 

“You won’t have to. I’m permanently stationed at top gun, training as part of the dagger squad and instructing.” You sniffle a little and look back up at Jakes face, “And if it means getting to be with you again I will give up dagger squad. I’ll go to instructing full time. I’ll stop flying.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “You could never give up flying Jake, it’s your life.” 

“I would give it up for you (Y/N).” You can see the sincerity in his eyes, the truthfulness there. He would genuinely give up flying if you asked him, and though you never would, knowing he was that dedicated to having you back ebbed your fears a little, though they were never fully away. It would take a while for that to happen. But you could feel your resolve break, every fibre in your being that was screaming for you to say no drowned out by the beating of your heart that was screaming at you to say yes. 

“Okay. One date.” 

Jake’s lips stretch into a cheshire cat grin and you roll your eyes at him once again, shoving him gently away from your body, “One Seresin, and we’ll see where we go from there.” 

“Oh Peaches, one date is all I need.”  

#top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x yn #top gun maverick x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x yn #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x yn #top gun maverick angst #top gun maverick hurt comfort #jake seresin angst #jake seresin hurt comfort #tw.alcohol #tw.drinking #tw.drunkeness #tw.being drunk #tw.angst #tw.depression #tw.depressive episode #august.writes

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Fire and Ice - Chapter 1

Bradley Bradshaw Drug Dealer Au x Seresin! Reader

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Synopsis: Dating Bradley Bradshaw, a major CEO in San Diego, seems like the dream gig. He treats you well, buys you anything you want, and he seems mysterious. But, when it comes out that his actual business is in drugs and you’re the sister of the main narcotics detective Jake Seresin; things get complicated.

Warnings: this is a drug dealer AU. There is going to be lots of violence, blood, drugs, and cursing. Eventually some smut too, I’m sure. 18+ only please

Cold metal assaulted your skin as you sat in an all too uncomfortable chair. Your hands were tied behind your body, your wrists raw and sore from trying to move against the rope that had you held there. Your legs were also tied to the chair with rope, your ankles screaming in pain. Whoever had you held sure didn’t want you to get loose.

You tried to think about how you got into this situation, remembering riding shotgun in Bradley’s car as he told you he had to do a quick drop off. He promised you it would take less than 10 minutes and he just needed you to sit in the car. You had obliged, sitting there and playing on your phone as you waited for your man. He was his own CEO in a successful technology startup and he always had to run small deals with people to get them starting to work with him. However, this was the first time you had tagged along because it was on the way to the movie theater you were going too anyways.

You tried to think about how you got into this situation, remembering riding shotgun in Bradley’s car as he told you he had to do a quick drop off. He promised you it would take less than 10 minutes and he just needed you to sit in the car. You had obliged, sitting there and playing on your phone as you waited for your man. He was his own CEO in a successful technology startup and he always had to run small deals with people to get them starting to work with him. However, this was the first time you had tagged along because it was on the way to the movie theater you were going too anyways.

The car was parked in a dark alley and you tried not to think too hard about it, your eyes skirting around you periodically. You had grown up in a law enforcement family; your dad was a narcotics detective and your older brother Jake had followed in his footsteps. Your older sisters also followed similar paths, some of them going to law school and the others going into politics. You were the baby of the family and the favorite; therefore it was acceptable that your future was currently undecided.

As you sifted through numerous socials, you heard a glass bottle break somewhere behind Bradley’s car and it made your blood run cold. You tried to dial his number, the line ringing for a few seconds before it went to voicemail. You tried again, the ringing as your door was ripped open and there was 2 men standing there. “Well, hello there.”

That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark and fuzzy, your head pounding and your body sore. You were not sure what had happened exactly, but you also didn’t think you wanted to know. You just knew that your survival instincts were kicking in and you needed to figure out an escape plan.

“Let’s get out of here.” The words repeated in your mind as you moved your wrists as much as you could against the sharp back of the metal chair. You had seen this done in movies multiple times, so you didn’t see why it couldn’t potentially work for you. It was a Hail Mary and it was one of your only ideas. As you started to try and fray the rope that was holding your wrists together, the chair made a sick creaking sound that made you immediately sit still. No, no this couldn’t be happening.

You listened intently for any sign of the voices getting closer, your blood running cold as you started to hear footsteps. You desperately started to saw away at the material holding you, hearing the footsteps getting closer and closer until they were right on top of you. You heard a sick chuckle and suddenly felt the coldness of a gun barrel against your temple. You could feel that it was small, a pistol probably, and you went completely still. “See, Coyote. I told you she would be obedient.” You inwardly and outwardly cringed at the use of his words, a big lump forming in your throat as you desperately tried to swallow it down. It just seemed to get bigger and bigger as you felt fingertips on your face, the blindfold being removed.

Standing in front of you was 3 people that you knew all too well. They were all over your brothers office. They were his latest target in the drug world. They were a 3 person team called the daggers that consisted of Javy “Coyote” Machado, Natasha “Phoenix” Trace, and Mickey “Fanboy” Garcia. As you looked at them, you couldn’t help but squint and moan as your eyes tried to get used to the brightness around you.

You were in an abandoned warehouse, just as you had thought, but you were now desperately trying to find an exit. Your eyes scanned the room, looking at every single inch you could see. “Ah, ah. I wouldn’t try anything if I were you. I’ll blow that pretty head of yours right off.” Fanboy was leaning down beside you, his gun pointed under your chin this time. Your teeth were clenched as you felt the barrel against your skin, him using it to move your head around. You jerked your head back, moving it away from him as you started to watch Coyote circle you like a vulture.

You had finally thought you had it figured out why they had taken you. Your brother had been tracking these 3 for months and was preparing a massive bust to take them down. He had everything in order and was a matter of weeks away from executing it. So, you figured they had caught wind of it and had taken you as a way to get back at him. But, boy had you been wrong.

“So, I guess while we have you here we can go ahead and tell you why.” He was smirking as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag. The smoke rose up through the air, swirling around him for dramatic affect. “Well, you see. Your little boyfriend is getting a little too good at his business. Him and his business partner are starting to get a little too close to our territory and he’s starting to step on our toes. So, you are our bargaining chip. If he doesn’t step back, you die. Maybe even if he does step back, you still die. That part is undecided.” A sick chuckle left his lips as you now noticed Phoenix starting to close in on you, a knife in her hand that she tapped along your shoulders as she walked around you.

You were trying to be strong but you were visibly shaken, a whimper leaving your lips as Phoenix allowed a slice to be taken out of your bicep. She knew she was hurting you and she knew what all she had planned for you. This was nothing. But, as you listened to coyote you couldn’t help but be confused. Your eyebrows furrowed and they all 3 laughed at your face, catching on to the fact that you didn’t know what Bradley actually did for work.

“Oh, honey. You don’t know what he actually does for work, do you?” The laughter echoed around the building as you say there, unable to escape the truth that was about to come barreling at you. “You are dating one of the biggest drug dealers in San Diego, sweetheart.” And that’s when everything started to click. All the secret phone calls, the beef with your brother, everything. It all started to make sense.

“Be careful around him.” Jake’s words rang out clear as you sat there in pure terror, your reality hitting you. He had known the whole time. Fuck, you were screwed.

Tag list: @fandomxpreferences @shanimallina87 @ssprayberrythings @little-wiseone @mak-32 @cherrycola27 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @praline357 @withakindheartx @luvrrish @caatheeriinee07 @yogabigooby @southsideserendipity @bioodforbiood @trikigirl271 @ginger-gabsq @atarmychick007 @thedroneranger @calsjack @a-beaverhausen @blairfox04 @m-rae23 @khaylin27 @darkheartcherry @emorychase @lex-winchester @starlightstories @ouralcohol @wkndwlff @daisyhollyxox @marantha @swagmakerzonkkid @abaker74 @sydneejean @countryclubswifey @starlite41 @fandom-life-12 @potato-girl99981 @bradshawseresinbabe @allalngthewtchtower @clancycucumber230 @christinemg18 @cosmic-psychickitty @mattheoschik

#dagger squad au #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfic #Bradley Bradshaw au #Bradley Bradshaw angst #top gun maverick angst #Jake seresin angst #Jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x y/n #bradley bradshaw x y/n #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #Bradley rooster Bradshaw imagines

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Parabellum 🪙 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine/John Wick AU

Set in an alternate universe where Top Gun is actually part of an underground assassins bureau in NYC

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Parings: Dagger Squad x Wick!reader (platonic/work relationship), John Wick x adoptive cousin!reader (platonic), The Bowery King (platonic), The Adjudicator (platonic) Zero + students (platonic)

Content Warnings: angst, profanity, banter, blood, violence, graphic depiction of injury, mentions of death and murder. AU set in the JW universe where Top Gun is a tactical assassination squad for The High Table. Set during JW: Chapter 3–Parabellum, but everyone is the age they were in TGM (so the year 2013 since all the movies are set within days of each other despite released years apart) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 8k

Premise: There are two rules everyone who works for the Table must follow: 1. No business on company grounds, 2. All Markers must be fulfilled. For John Wick, there are several debts he is owed as he battles against the whole world after breaking rule number one. And two of them fall under rule number two. John’s in for quite the treat when he heads to the Top Gun hangar to cash on of his debts from none other than his cousin, who happens to be the leader Top Gun’s infamous tactical assassin squad.

Note: Y’all I am so hype for John Wick Chapter 4. JW is one of my fav franchises and Keanu Reeves is my baby daddy 🥵 Maybe once Chapter 4 comes out I’ll do a part two to this since I have no idea what’s gonna happen to John and also if you’ve seen John Wick 3, do y’all think Winston is part of the BK’s plan or did he really betray John for his own selfish needs? like the Parent Trap imagine I did, I basically rewatched all the JW movies cause there was a marathon and got inspired. I really need to focus on my school work though cause I didn’t do so hot on my first writing assignment (it was research methods and my professor didn’t have the instructions very clear 😭) but I had to get this done and out first before taking a small few days of break to do my homework. — Bee 🐝

I do not own any of the characters from TGM or JW, this is for fictional purposes and entertainment. Read over CW before reading and reblogs , likes, and comments are welcomed but please do not steal or repost onto other platforms.

——————————

The phone was on the edge of breaking by how hard she was gripping it, cursing and flinching each time Halo strung a thread through her skin to seal the gaping wound that nearly sliced her face off. She couldn’t see out of her left eye and her lips were split in diagonal from the direction of the blade. Never had she experienced being cut by a katana in all her years of service….but there was always a first for everything.

“What do you want?” She winced again, glaring at the wall with hatred. While the Bowery King, who was experiencing his own hell with seven cuts to him, relayed to her the most recent update of their mutual ‘friend’, Y/n ‘Domino’ Wick thought back to the past last week. As much as she wanted to avoid it, she knew what was coming the second the message appeared on her phone: ‘John Wick—Excommunicado in effect in 1 hour. All services closed. Open Contract set at $14m.’

Seven Days Earlier….

The message was just sent out, everyone in the hangar appearing confused when the cell phones beeped at the same time causing them all to withdraw theirs from their pocket. Upon reading the words, multiple eyes turned to the woman seated at her desk. An opened bottle of whiskey was beside her, a stack of papers to be sorted through in a basket. She appeared emotionless as she read the message once before sliding the phone back in its place and storing it away.

“What’s up with Domino?” Omaha looked at Fanboy and Coyote when the woman rose from her chair before kicking it across the room and disappearing.

Fanboy shook his head, sighing in apparent distress, “You’ve heard of John Wick?” Of course he wasn’t talking about the fact his name was on the message they all got, he meant if Omaha knew who he was.”

“Only from stories. Ain’t he like the best there is.”

“The best and even more,” Coyote commented, already checking to make sure his gun was armed. “Man’s a beast. People call him the Boogeyman—or Baba Yaga to be more exact.”

“Anway,” Fanboy brought the attention back to him, noticing Domino called over Fritz, Rooster, Payback, and Hangman. They all were deep in discussion. “Domino and John were both orphans in Belarus, growing up together at the Ruska Roma.” Knowing what the Ruska Roma was combined with the fact Domino and John knew each other, Omaha made a face of shock. “They’re kinda like cousins—not sure if they are blood related, adoptive, or just grew close enough that they see each other as such. She doesn’t say a lot about her past, but before she became Domino her name was Y/n Wick. Now that Mav and Cyclone retired she’s been in service longer than any of us.”

“Just don’t ask questions, alright,” Coyote warned with a glance, “I know you’re new to the whole thing but keep quiet and you’ll live longer.”

If only Omaha had asked what John Wick looked like. Would’ve saved him a broken arm had he done so because when the poor guy went to do his surveillance, he was shocked to find a bloody man in their parking lot who immediately got in a tousle with when Omaha charged him.

The private hangar was located just a few miles from downtown at a very small private airstrip surrounded by a chain link electric fence, far enough and secluded that nobody in their right mind—unless of course, they were in need of service—migrated to. And unfortunately for Omaha he’d never seen John Wick before…so how was he supposed to know the intruder was the infamous assassin.

The two were going at it for a good three minutes until it ended with Omaha’s arm breaking and John’s belt around his neck. His air was constricted, the man fighting back against the hold in hopes of freeing himself. Before John could do the final twist to end Omaha for good, the sound of a gunshot followed by a speeding bullet against his face had John tripping back, releasing Omaha who took gasps of breath.

“That’s enough you two,” a stern voice said, multiple footsteps approaching. Looking up, John's eyes landed on his cousin flanked by members of her Dagger Squad on either side of her, guns trained on him as a warning for John to not make a sudden move. “We don't want things to get messy now do we?”

It had been years since the cousins had seen each other, well before John retired to marry Helen. They were roughly ten years apart in age, making Y/n around 40 now that John just turned 50. He was her mentor and protector during their time in the Ruska Roma, having been brought to the U.S from Belarus when John was 11 and Y/n was barely a year old. It’s unsure if they were even related but considering John looked after her like a family member people just assumed they were. Then when she got older she ditched her birth name and started going by Y/n Wick.

When John had heard several years before he retired that Y/n became a member of the Top Gun tactical execution squad, part of him felt he had failed her. Of course it was likely for her to join the underground world they were pretty much forced into by being a part of the Ruska Roma, but he hoped she’d not dive too deep. She was only 22 when she joined, becoming one of the best associates in the organization. Then just before he retired she was promoted to second in command, now four years later she was the leader after her predecessors decided to step down.

Looking at her now before him, he could tell Y/n had become the hardened contract killer she was destined to be. Reputation nearly rivaling that of his own. As a member of the Top Gun Tactical Dagger Squad Y/n earned the callsign ‘Domino,’ learning how to fly a plane due to the fact Top Gun provided services to associates by transporting them to and from locations. As highly skilled assassins the team are often hired by mobs, including the High Table when they don’t feel like sending their personal squads, to take out private contracts. Sometimes Y/n was directly offered contracts especially by those who wanted to keep their dirty work as hidden as possible.

Taking in the current Dagger Squad, John recognized most of them: Rooster, Payback, Fritz, Hangman, Coyote, Yale and Phoenix. When they last saw each other eight years before they’d all been recent recruits. Now they were molded killers. The other bunch were new faces—including the one he just broke the arm of. They had to have joined within the last several years. All wearing flight suits with their patches on the left breast, John read: Harvard, Bob, Fanboy, Halo, and lastly Omaha.

“You good, Omaha?” Y/n asked, not taking her gaze off of John. The man moaned in response.

“I think my arm is broken, boss.”

“Halo, Bob,” she simply said, the woman next to her and the man on the end dropping their guns to move over to the fallen man. When Halo walked off, Rooster took a step to the right so he was now directly next to Domino. On the opposite side to her left was Payback.

The two haul Omaha off, disappearing into the hangar. “Well,” Y/n puts her hands on her hips. “You sure know how to make an entrance. Hello, John.”

“Hello, Y/n.” She glared at the name, but made no move to correct it.

“Did you really have to break my guy’s arm?”

John gave a light shrug, putting his hand to his injured shoulder that was bleeding from a stab wound. “He came after me.”

Y/n gave an unhumorous laugh, shaking her head, “John, you got a fourteen million dollar bounty on your head. Can’t really blame him for trying—If I didn’t have a sense of why you’re here I’d give my crew the word and let them light you up before finishing you off myself.” It was harsh coming from a family member, but John couldn’t blame her. They’d been estranged for years now with their last encounters anything but friendly.

What John didn’t know though was Omaha had no idea what he looked like. Y/n was just trying to get under his skin.

“Go ahead and pull it out,” she challenged, eyes narrowing at the man. The squad kept their weapons raised, but relaxed their stance at her order.

Slowly John reaches into his jacket pocket, removing one of two Markers, making sure it was the right one before presenting it to the group. He saw the woman immediately stiffen, face tightening as the anger never left her eyes. In fact it looked like it increased by the sight of the object.

A debt she had to pay.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, John. Some. Fucking. Nerve.”

“Y/n—.”

She cuts him off with a harsh tone, “You’re excommunicado, John. Services are now closed to you. As of five minutes ago that marker is void.” That last statement was actually on the fence.

There were two big rules in their world: 1. No business on company grounds. 2. All Markers must be fulfilled.

Given John broke rule #1 he was labeled excommunicado with the original contract of $7m by Santino D’Antonio doubled to $14m. Any and all services were now closed to him, even as simple as receiving medical treatment by a company doctor.

But what of the Markers?

John had two. One from Y/n and one from Sofia Al-Azwar, both given to John at different times, both where John had to transport and hide their children. In Y/n’s case she had gotten pregnant just shortly after leaving the Ruska Roma and was on her way to becoming a contract killer. She was barely 19 and in no way able to raise a child. So she called John and swore the blood oath to him that she would return the favor no matter the price or cost when the time came. Over 20 years later she still didn’t know what happened to her son. Sofia had originally come to Y/n to help her out when she needed to get her daughter away, but Y/n assured her John was better for the job, confessing he had done the same for her.

Would the Markers still have to be completed although he was banished and being hunted by the High Table? The same ones who order hits on those who don’t fulfill the Markers when presented by the person they owe? It was a tough situation.

It was Domino’s current situation.

John pleaded to her, opening the object to reveal her bloody fingerprint, “This is your blood. Your bond. When you needed help, Y/n, I was there. Now I need your help. You owe it to me, please.”

Y/n inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Top Gun works for the Table, John. We have been in service to them for decades. They will come for us—for me, for helping you.” In the corner of her eye she saw some of the crew stiffen, hands gripping their weapons tighter at the fear of facing the Table.

John gave her a look, “They will come for you if you don’t.” That had her nearly falter, seeing a look of angst overtake her.

“Some family you are, John. Bringing death to my door. Risking the lives of my team!” She couldn’t help but shout, no longer holding back her anger. All she could think about was the fact the Table likely already knew he was there. They had spies all over the city. Once he leaves they’ll be sending someone even if she didn’t help him. “What the fuck do you want anyway? What’s the favor you so desperately need after all these years that’s made you put me and my crew in danger.”

“My ticket,” he simply tells her, watching her face become ashen. “I know you still have it. I need it now, Y/n. That’s all I ask for.”

A long time ago John gave Y/n his ticket every orphan of the Ruska Roma receives upon ‘graduation’. A symbol of the favor the organization owes them after spending years under them. Y/n had cashed in on hers a long time ago, but John had her keep his safe. Believing he’d never have to use it.

It was kinda ironic when she started thinking about it.

“You could’ve had it all you know,” she dryly laughs, gazing hard at the man she saw as a cousin. “You got out—away from this. Tell me, Jordani, was it worth it?” She waits for a reply but it doesn’t come. Of course it wouldn’t. She could see it in his eyes it wasn’t. “What were you hoping to gain by hunting down the Tarasov punk? You should’ve fucking known it wouldn’t have ended once you finished the job. You opened the damn door, John. You gave Santino everything he needed to check in on his favor that you owed him. It honestly baffles me that you, John Wick, thought it was a good idea to give that man a marker. You’re reasoning? I'll never know.”

She has to pause to cool down a bit before continuing, “You could’ve asked anybody else to help you that night—you could’ve asked me, John. You had the marker all this time. Why the fuck didn’t you use it then?” She raises a hand as a signal for him to keep quiet all while ordering the squad to stand down. “Don’t answer that. I honestly don’t wanna know. It’s your fucking karma at the end of the day.” Again she gives a dry laugh, “I just find it hilarious honestly. The reason you’re in this shit show to begin with is because you owed Santino—which would’ve never happened if you didn’t let your impulses take over and go after Iosef Tarasov. You let some punk ass kid bring you back. A domino effect at its finest,” she has to laugh at her own joke, but nothing about it was funny. “Now here you are, cashing in on all the favors you’re owed. Me….The Director…I take it Sofia is next on your list?”

No answer. Y/n tightens her lips, nodding slowly, “I thought so. She’s over across the sea. You think she’s gonna just let you waltz in, John?” Y/n smirks, “but first you gotta survive getting out of New York. And unlike the other night when it was just the city after your ass, you got the whole world wanting a piece of you now. Fourteen million dollars,” she hums, tilting her head like she’s deep in thought. “Saying it out loud…it’s tempting.”

“Fifteen,” Fanboy says, making all eyes turn to him. “The contract just went up.” Y/n nods, turning back to John with a shrug.

“You hear that, John? I wonder who’s responsible for adding the bonus.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, Y/n,” he says unfazed, making her narrow her eyes a tad.

“And what makes you so confident I won't? Pretty bold of you to assume when you got ten guns on you.”

John tells her like it is, “Because you would’ve already done it by now.” He got her there. She would’ve given the signal the moment they surrounded him if she truly wanted him dead. And as much as Y/n was pissed off with John, he was the last person she had who she considered family. And she was indebted to him.

Hating the fact he was right, Y/n just nods, “Fair enough, John.”

“Look,” he holds up the Marker, “you do this for me and we’re done. You and I are even and the Table can’t fault you for following their rules.” His reasoning makes her scoff.

“You don’t really know if that’s true, John. But thanks for trying to lighten the situation,” she was being sarcastic, having had enough of the ordeal. “I’ll be sure to tell whoever they send exactly what you said. Maybe I'll live to see the next day.” They just stare at each other, letting the reality set in.

“Fritz,” the man beside Payback responds with a look at her, “bring me the blue book with gold trimming in the safe. The one on the top shelf—you know the one.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he holsters his gun and walks toward the hangar.

“Coyote, go get the keys for the Ducati Diavel,” when he goes Y/n then calls to the woman beside Rooster, “and Phoenix, grab me a 9mm from one of the units.”

“On it.”

“Fanboy, and Harvard,” the two snap to attention awaiting orders, “Go check on Halo and Bob, see if they need help dealing with Omaha and call the Continental doctor if need be.” She sees John falter at the mention of the doctor, remembering he was just there and had to shoot him in a non-fatal area on the docs insistent to cover for the face he helped John. “Actually scratch that…take him to the urgent care that’s off the road past the gate. Tell them Domino sent you.”

“Yes ma’am,” they both say and head out, leaving Payback, Yale, Hangman and Rooster on either side of Y/n, the woman standing in the middle between the four.

“What are you doing?” John asks.

“Paying my debt,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ensuring the bargain has been fulfilled. You may have given me the impression all you want is your ticket, but I know you were hoping for something a little more. Consider it done.”

John shakes his head with a frown, “I wasn’t gonna—.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” she tightens her lips. “Sure you weren’t. How the hell else are you gonna get to The Director from all the way out here with nothing but a belt to defend you, John? I’m surprised you even managed to make it here within the hour.” Holding out her hand, Phoenix places the 9mm in the open palm. At that moment Coyote pulls up the motorcycle, keeping the keys in the ignition when he puts it on its stand. Then Fritz arrives with the book, handing it over to Y/n’s other open palm.

Approaching John, Y/n extends both hands to pass the gun and book to him. He holsters the gun first then opens the book to remove the fake page revealing the compartment with his ticket, aka the rosary, and a wad of gold coins. He pockets both the rosary and coins, before handing back the book and Y/n holds it out for Fritz to take back.

“You’re going to war, John,” she watches him open the Marker, pricking his thumb on the needle before placing his bloody fingerprint onto the open space beside her own. “With the whole damn world. Even if you make it to where you’re going…it won't end there. This is only the beginning.”

“I know,” he sighs, handing her the now complete Marker. “Consequences.” She gives a tight smile, fingers encasing around the object.

“Consequences. You should’ve thought about those before blowing a hole into Santino’s head. Would’ve saved you all the trouble.” He doesn’t react with the exception of a curt nod, knowing she was right. But he made his bed, now he has to lie in it. “Goodbye, John.”

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

They all watch as he mounts the bike and takes off into the darkness, becoming smaller with each minute until finally he’s out of their sights. Finally Y/n lets out the breath she had been holding, angry tears stinging her eyes that she refuses to let the team see. They’d never seen her scared before, she wasn’t gonna let them see now. Even though they had every right to be just as scared.

Gathering herself, she cranks her neck to the sky and closes her eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the remaining Squad members, the one who were coming up on ten years whereas all the others she sent away were only a couple years in. “Prepare the bunker,” she watched all their eyes widen, glancing at each other hesitantly.

“Are you sure, Dom?” Rooster questions, looking a bit unease. They hadn’t used the bunker in so long, it was gonna take time to prepare it. Not even the Table knew about it. Top Gun predecessors from when the underground crime world started built it for caution in case they were to have troubles with the Table. It was basically a whole level floor underneath the hangar equipped with everything they needed from food, water, bedding, clothing, and of course weapons and arsenal. They could survive weeks underground and no one would know. They had security surrounding the premises that they could access from below ground.

Domino was confident the Table had already been tipped off by an associate. They were gonna have to act quick.

“Very,” she walked a few steps, stopping so she was directly in front of the group. “Expect us to have company when the sun rises—maybe in a few days if we’re lucky. I’ll deal with the Table,” she assures, looking them each in the eyes. “When that happens I need you all to be in the bunker where you’re safe. And you will not come out until they have left the premises—regardless of what happens to me.” Immediately there were sounds of protest.

“Dom, that’s suicide,” Rooster states the obvious. Phoenix pitches in, “You’re not serious, boss.”

“There’s no way in hell we’re leaving you alone with them,” Hangman voices, going as far as taking a step closer to the woman. Fritz and Yale back him up while Payback comments, “You don’t even know if they’re coming.”

“I didn't ask for your input. From any of you,” she shuts them up. Rubbing a hand over her face, Y/n gives a tired sigh. “You don’t think I don’t know what they’re capable of? I have been in this life longer than any of you—I’ve seen everything you can imagine when it comes to the business we’re in. Or at least I thought until John Wick decided to cause hell two weeks ago,” she mutters the last part under breath. No one could’ve predicted that when John exterminated the Tarasov crime family that he’d be the Table’s #1 target. Where the rules were no longer black and white.

“My point is,” she calms down the raging thoughts in her head. “I’m the one who helped him. They are gonna come after me, but that doesn’t mean you all have to be in the crossfire. If they see you here, even if you’re not doing anything, they’ll kill you,” her tone turns harsher, to get it through their heads the seriousness of it. “I don’t want any of you going against the Table, not when I’m gonna need you all if I survive the meeting.”

“What do you think is gonna happen?” Yale is the one to ask the question.

“I don’t know,” she speaks truthfully. “But if John is going where I think he is…then tonight was just the beginning.”

Seven Days Later….

She honestly expected them earlier. Rumors spread in the days after John’s excommunication. An Adjudicator of the Table visiting those who assisted him. At the Ruska Roma, the Director had her hands sliced through with her entourage slaughtered just the day after John cashed in his ticket. Then the Bowery King was set to pay a price for refusing to step down after a warning of seven days to get his affairs in order. Many of his men dead within minutes. That morning he received seven cuts for the seven bullets he gave John the night he executed Santino, and was left for dead. Was he alive? Y/n wasn’t even sure. All she knew was Winston had until nightfall to step down from the Continental before they paid him a visit.

Right now though, in the early evening of the seventh day, Y/n sat in her chair in the middle of the hangar. Around her were Zero’s students, the man himself closest to her while the Adjudicator stood before her. Unbeknownst to the group the team of assassins they expected to have seen were down below watching the scene unfold through the monitors mounted on the concrete wall. They’d been underground for the whole week, Y/n not risking them being out in the open when she knew the Table would arrive at some point.

After the first day she was confident it was to spook her. Especially after discovering the Director was punished for her role in transporting John across the Atlantic. Yes, they were trying to scare her alright. They damn well knew she aided John Wick. They were just waiting for the right time to make their presence known.

“Where is the Dagger Squad, Domino?” The Adjudicator paced in front of her, eyes drifting over the empty hangar. It was too quiet for her liking.

“On a mission.”

“There were no recent contracts from my knowledge for your department. When did this happen?” She pressed, turning to the assassin. Y/n could tell she was examining her body language, hoping to catch her in a lie.

“A private one came in this morning. I sent them off just before you arrived.”

“From?”

“The Triads,” she answered confidently.

“Where to?”

“Out west. They requested the location to be confidential. You understand, right?”

The Adjudicator nodded slowly, not really sure if she believed the woman, but kept her gaze focused. Two planes were moved to make it look like they were gone. Domino hoped they would take the bait.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

“I have my suspicions,” Y/n replied, remaining calm and unthreatening. “It wasn’t hard to guess after whispers coming in from the city.” It was obvious she was referring to the Bowery King and Director.

“And do you have anything to say for yourself about why you broke the rules and aided John Wick in his escape from New York? I am well aware of your personal history with him.”

Y/n willed herself not to react to the last comment, focusing on the question. “I owed him a debt. Which you already know—it’s why you’re here. Maybe you can tell everyone at HQ to add more details on the fine print of what to do when the bearer of your Marker breaks the rules. As far as I’m concerned,” she dares to shrug, “I followed them.”

“So you have a point,” the tattooed woman gives a tight expression, not liking her attitude. “You may have upheld the rule of the Table but that doesn’t mean you didn't do more than what you had to. Especially due to the personal connection involved. John Wick was seen coming to this location on foot and leaving twenty minutes later on a motorcycle.”

Y/n tilts her head, now looking bored. “What are you getting at? That’s part of what he wanted.”

“Tell me what all he wanted, Domino, in order for the debt to be paid.”

Y/n kept eye contact, the two almost in a staring contest with neither wanting to blink as she listed off what all she provided. “The book containing his ticket, coins, and a 9mm that he had me store ages ago for ‘emergencies,’ and a mode of transportation.”

“You didn’t offer one of your pilots to escort him to Morocco?”

“He didn’t indicate Morocco was where he wanted to go,” she fired back. Now she was playing dumb. Of course she knew he was heading there since Sofia was now the manager of the Moroccan Continental. “He just wanted those things and then said he’d be on his way. And because I didn’t know if the Marker was invalid given his status, I delivered with his request. Fulfilling the Marker because that is your rule.”

The Adjudicator takes a moment to think before placing her hands behind her back. “I may not have proof you acted against the Table, Domino, but rest assured we will find out if you did. Until then, I will leave you with a warning of what is to come when that happens.”

Y/n’s heart kicks in pace, stiffening when Zero comes to stand in front of her. Before she could react a searing pain erupted in her face, head snapping to the side by the force causing the woman to fall from her chair. “GAHHH!!” She audibly reacted as she landed on the ground, hands going straight to her face only to be drenched in the blood pouring from the gaping cut. She couldn’t even open her left eye, her right one watery causing her vision to be blurry. Looking up she saw Zero wiping his katana with his sleeve.

He fucking sliced her face.

The iron taste in her mouth was due to the fact her lips were split. It was a diagonal direction of the blade against skin, going from the edge of her right jaw all the way to her left temple—completely cutting her lips and slicing her eye. Speaking of her eye it was on fire, figuratively speaking. Glancing around she silently thanked the fact her eyeball wasn’t staring back at her meaning it was still in its socket. But judging from the pain and the fact when she tried to open it she was met with darkness indicated the eye was long gone.

Underground, members of the Dagger Squad had to refrain from getting into the elevator and rush in guns blazing. They were given orders, and if the Adjudicator did not report back to the Table they would know something happened and send their full force against them.

“She’s alive,” Rooster said in relief when Y/n moved, them all watching her hands go to her face. Phoenix changed the camera to a different angle and they saw the full extent of her injury. Everyone grimaced, some cursing at the sight of Domino’s bloodied face. It was literally sliced at an angle.

“Fuck,” Fanboy muttered, Halo already moving to gather medical supplies.

“She said to wait until they were gone,” Payback reminded them when a few started to move to the elevator. The Adjudicator, Zero, and his students had just left the hangar, but had yet to be fully off the premises. On the monitor it showed Y/n stumbling as she tried to locate the closet with towels and supplies. Blood trailed after her, leaving a line in its wake. It wasn’t until the cars passed the gate and were well off into the city that the squad rushed to the elevator.

“Domino!” Y/n heard someone shout, mind a bit hazy from the blood loss and beginning to feel numb.

“I got you, boss,” Fritz picked her up bridal style and rushed her to the makeshift medical room with Halo and Bob running behind him. Placing her on the bed they got to work. Halo started an IV while Bob did his best to apply pressure on the wound.

“She’s gonna need blood,” Bob said, cursing by the amount she was losing. “Who here shares her blood type?”

“Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote,” Halo lists off, grabbing the syringe with a light sedative to help Y/n with the pain.

“We’re gonna need all three then. Fritz, can you—.”

“Already on it,” he doesn’t let him finish the sentence, yelling out their names who all appear within seconds. With Harvard the two begin setting up to remove a pint of blood from each.

“You with us, Dom?” Halo takes a light to shine in each of her eyes, apologizing when Y/n moans when her left eye is touched.

“As best as I can be. Just do what you have to do. If I die, I die.”

“We won’t let that happen,” Bob tells her. “You’re gonna be fine, Dom.”

For a good couple hours they were working on repairing the wound. Y/n was a little dozy from the drugs, but managed to stay away during the whole thing. When it came time for the stitches, Halo was about halfway done when Rooster came in with Y/n’s phone. “It’s the Bowery King.”

“Help me up please,” she motioned for them to help her sit up, Halo careful with the sting and needle in her hands. Bob and Fritz pulled to an upright position before she asked for the phone. Rooster handed it over, moving to stand with Phoenix and Payback against the wall. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Y/n placed the phone to ear. “What do you want?”

She received a chuckle, “You sound as bad as I feel.”

“Just fucking get to it. I can’t move my mouth without wanting to scream so let me hear what you have to say and let us be done with it.”

“Have you heard the latest on Mr Wick?”

“He’s the reason Berreda lost his balls.” She received another chuckle.

“Well our friend is stateside again. Lucky bastard cut a deal with the one who sits above the Table.”

Y/n stilled, blood running cold. “He found the Elder.” Those in the room who knew what she spoke of shared the same reaction.

“He did,” the King muses. “And the deal for him to remain breathing is to be forever bound to the Table. The first on his list of bidding is Winston.”

Y/n had to pull the phone away for a moment, in disbelief at the news. She almost wanted to laugh at how things seemed to turn out for John. “He’ll never do it. Winston knows how to manipulate him to get what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to betray him in the end.”

“I’m happy you and I are on the same page. I was thinking the same exact thing—which is why when the time comes, I’ll be there to pick John up.”

Right as he finishes his sentence all the phones beep, those in the room removing theirs to see the text. Domino looked at her own phone, shaking her head when she read: “The New York Continental status has been changed to Deconsecrated. In effect in thirty minutes.”

“Would you look at that,” the Kind hummed. “Just what I expected. I give it til dawn before they get tired.”

Y/n was starting to get annoyed, wanting him to cut to the chase. “So why are you calling me now?”

“Because I want us to be a step ahead of them, Domino.”

Y/n takes a moment before saying, “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been doing some thinking over the past week—and after this morning these cuts have sealed the deal,” he laughed at his own irony. “All this High Table bullshit….under the Table is where shit gets done and you know it. All of us are pawns in their game. I say it’s time we dethrone them once and for all.”

Y/n straightens her posture, processing what the King was implying. “You’re asking for war.” She noticed her team visibly reacting to the statement. “You’re wanting to go to war with the Table.”

“Quite so.”

“And you want me and my team to help you.” There was no need to say it like a question.

“Just think about it,” he tells her. “Wait the night out or wait for my call. We’ll discuss more then.” Before she could reply the constant beep filled her ears signaling he had hung up. Sliding the phone in place, Y/n stared ahead, this time not even flinching as Halo worked on her.

It was quiet for the remainder of the hour, the beeping of phones signifying the deconsecration of the Continental was in effect. When Halo cut the last bit of thread on Y/n, the woman downed the painkillers and gulped the water bottle in seconds.

“You’re all dismissed. Stay close to the hangar—I don’t trust that they’re not lurking by the gates.” When they all left she changed into a fully black outfit, ending with a leather trench coat. Then she shuffled through one of the cabinets to find an eyepatch, which was a fucking sight when she put it on.

“I look like that dude from those comics Fanboy reads,” she announced when she walked into the area everyone was in, many of them stopping what they were doing. Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were cleaning the blood off the floors while Hangman and Fritz watched the monitors. Halo was checking over Omaha. Yale, Harvard, and Coyote were going through inventory and finally Rooster and Fanboy had finished up calls with potential clients. All eyes turned to Domino, Fanboy having to hold back his comment of saying, “Nick Fury,” though he did have a small smile on his face.

“How you feeling, boss?” Payback questioned, taking a seat on a chair after discarding the bloody water from when he mopped the floors. His answer was a groan, followed by her saying, “Like I should’ve let y’all shoot John Wick and spare me from becoming a raggedy Ann doll.”

Falling into a chair, Y/n thanked the glass of whiskey from Fritz and accepted a cigarette, leaning forward to light it when he offered the lighter flame. Checking the time on the wall, it was approaching midnight. God did she blackout or something? Where the hell did the time go? By now the Continental was likely a graveyard.

“I’m sorry about this week guys,” she said softly, letting the smoke leave her lips, wincing from the sting as the stitches keeping them together served as a reminder of what happened. “I should’ve told you all about the Marker ages ago.”

“It wasn’t our business, Dom,” Hangman pulls up a stool, setting himself on it once it appeared the coast was clear. “Those things are between those involved.”

“Yeah,” Coyote pitched in. “None of us blame you. We probably would’ve done the same. We just hate that you were punished for upholding the deal.”

“It’s not completing the Marker they were upset about,” she taps the cigarette against the ashtray. “Had I not, it would’ve given them the excuse to kill me even though there is no official rule about Markers and those who bear one that are excommunicated. It was the fact they know I did more than what was needed. I could’ve just given John the ticket and sent him off, but instead I willingly armed him with the means to have better odds. That’s why they’re pissed.”

“But they have no proof,” Harvard said from the side. “How would they know you did?”

“They know our history,” she simply sighed. “That’s enough for them to have suspicion. Whether the Adjudicator did it on her own accords or the Table ordered her to give me a good warning that they’re onto me…what’s done is done.” She finished her cigarette, “Now we figure out how to keep them off our backs.”

Several of the daggers looked at each other, wondering how to ask the question they all wanted to know since her phone call. Rooster is the one to speak up, “What about the Bowery King?”

“What about him, Rooster?”

“He’s wanting war with the High Table,” he crosses his arms, ignoring the looks from those who were not present when Domino was on the phone. They appeared surprised, and a little uneasy.

“He’s out of his damn mind,” she told him harshly, trying to not show she was tempted at stepping down from her position to join the mission. Hatred at the Table was rising in her, the King making a fair point at how everything gets done under the Table but they get to reek the benefits of what they do.

Y/n wanted to fight back, she really did. But she wasn’t gonna take her team down with her. They still had lives and going against the Table would not be easy. If she were to take the Bowery King up on his offer she would do it alone and spare them all.

“You know he’s right,” Halo pitches in, surprising the woman. Then she remembered Halo was right next to her and probably heard the entire conversation. “Everyone of us, those in service and in management, are just pawns for the Table and those who sit above it. We’re the ones who keep this business alive while they get to sit back and relax.”

Catching onto that Halo was leaking what the Bowery King told Domino, Phoenix stands from her chair. “You’ve been in service longer than all of us, Domino. You said it yourself. Haven’t you realized things are starting to get out of hand? I mean look!” She gestures to Y/n’s face, “You followed their rules and they nearly took half your face off. Who gives a fuck if you did more than what you had to—John Wick is your family. How could they not expect you to want to help him?”

The others voice agreement, Fritz nudging Y/n lightly with his arm, “It’s not fair, Dom. It hasn’t been fair in years. I say we should do it.” He specifies when she gives a confused look, “Join the Bowery King.”

“No,” she shakes her head immediately, “No—if anyone is going against the Table, it’s gonna be me. I’ll step down and you guys continue what we’ve done here for decades. I will not have you all die because of my cousin's mess.”

“With all due respect, ma’am,” Hangman politely grabbed her attention. “It’s not up to you. Even if you step down, we still can join him if we please. So why not do it together. Because we’re not letting you go alone.” Everyone agrees with murmurs and nods, causing Y/n to drop her head between her shoulders.

“We’re talking war. Against the High Table—not some single crime syndicate we’ve dealt with before, this is all twelve seat holders, the Elder, and all their subordinates. Which we—,” she gestures to all of them, “we are those subordinates. This goes past New York…it’s the whole fucking world.”

“We know,” Payback says with confidence. “We know the risk, Dom. We’re willing to take it.”

Y/n connects her gaze with each member, seeing the determination in their eyes causing an emotion she couldn’t describe to swarm through her. What she didn’t know was they each were on board the second Rooster and Halo revealed the Bowery King’s offer. Seeing their friend and comrade nearly die by following the rules they all swore to obey ignited a fire in them. They were after revenge. Who’s to say the Table wouldn’t come after them in the future. Better to stop them now before that could happen.

The assassin was having trouble grasping it all. This was her family. The people she trusted most in the world. John was once that person, and right now he has a lot to do to gain it back, but if he joins the cause then they could be unstoppable. And from what the King told her, he was confident by dawn John would be involved.

“Okay,” she says softly. “We do this as a team. The same way we’ve always done. But no one—,” she lifts a finger to emphasize her point, “no one steps out of line or goes rogue because an opportunity arises. We have to play this safe. We need to be tactical in our approach. Even if it takes weeks, months, hell, even a year or more before we see some action, then we will be patient. The Bowery King, John, maybe even Winston if the old man doesn't become a snake, all of us know the best thing to do is hit the Table when they are at their most vulnerable. When that happens….it will break before our eyes.”

Seven Hours Later….

John looked lifeless as he laid on the cold ground. Who could blame him really after he fell over ten stories while hitting obstacles that broke his fall. Not even five minutes after he landed a white van pulled up in the narrow alley, Harvard and Yale hopping out from the back to drag the man into the vehicle. Before they could close the doors a gray pit bull jumped in, licking John’s face. Recognizing the dog as the one Y/n warned them about, they shut the doors and yelled for Coyote to start driving.

When they got to meet up point, John was handed off to one of the Bowery King’s surviving men, wheeling John into the underground tunnel they had all taken up camp. Coyote ditched the van with all three sneaking into the tunnel, careful for prying eyes. Once in the tunnel they got to work with half of the Daggers while the other half accompanied Domino where the King was located. Like the Top Gun boss, the King had stitches on his face and neck. His cuts were smaller than the one she received, but enough to do damage.

“How you doing, John?” He asked from his throne. John’s dog made himself comfortable on the couch. Off to the side, barely seen with the limited light stood Rooster, Hangman, Payback, Fritz, and Phoenix. “You look as bad as I feel,” he started to laugh the same way he did over the phone, setting down his orange soda, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Raise a hand if you can hear me, John.”

With a tremor, John lifted his left hand to raise his index and middle fingers, making the King go, “Oh shit. They took a finger. Ain’t that a bitch?” His laugh increased in volume when John maneuvered the hand to show only his middle finger. The rumble of his chest from laughing made the King groan from the pain of his injuries there.

“Oh John. Fucking. Wick. So, the old boy keeps his hotel and you take the fall. Can’t say I blame him I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes,” he pauses to inhale as he moves to stand from his throne, “But this High Table shit. Seven cuts. You should see what they did to your cousin. In fact, she’s right here.” A cane is in his hands when he begins to move closer to John.

The heels of Y/n’s boots echo, the light hitting her stitched face when she comes to stand beside the King. “Damn,” she mutters with a grimace. “That fall sure did a number on you, Johnny boy.” John doesn’t look at her, he keeps his head down the entire time. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here? I was hoping to be rid of ya after last week. Funny how fate works.”

The Bowery King chuckles, focusing back on John. “Under the table is where shit gets done. And they about to find out if you cut a king, you better cut him to the quick. So,” he lowers himself to the ground, holding onto his cane. “Let me ask you, John, how you feel?” John pants, face still hidden by his raggedy hair. The King speaks with menace, “‘Cause I am really. Pissed. Off. Are you pissed off, Dom?”

Y/n crouches down, elbows resting on her hips as her one eye stares down on her bloodied cousin. Her tone is the same as the King’s, “I’m really fucking pissed off. You pissed, John?”

“Hmm?” The King awaits his answer, hands shaking from how angry he was. “Are you?”

The fallen man finally starts to move, the two watching closely as he holds himself up on his hands. When he turns to face them, they finally see his bruised face, but they are more drawn to his eyes. He’s absolutely pissed the fuck off.

“Yeah.”

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @poppyalice2001, @americaarse, @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black

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[saltsicklover]

Maverick has a daughter that he hasn’t seen since she was six/seven and hasn’t even sent a birthday card to since she was 10. He was too busy spending all his free time with Bradley and being the father figure Bradley lost. 18 years later, Mav’s daughter is an aviator in the new Top Gun class that the Dagger Squad is instructing. Mav didn’t even know she was in the Navy at all, and she wants nothing to do with him or Bradley outside of work. Bonus points if Cyclone has become her father figure and it makes Mav a little jealous

Ahh! I love this ask, and I love the response that the sneak peak got!

I am currently working on writing, and I think this work has the probability of being quite long! So, would you rather read this as one very long part, or as a mini series?

I will note, I will be traveling for a good portion of October, and my writing time will be much less, so take that into account!

Also - @inkandarsenic if you could comment on this post if you have a preference, since this is your ask/request, that would be wonderful! Thank you!

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