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seresinhangmanjake · 2 hours

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Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want.

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock.

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks.

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get.

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for.

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man.

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again.

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.”

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.”

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.”

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked.

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain.

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you.

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear.

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds.

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back.

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms.

“Hold on Angel,” he says.

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place.

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe.

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars.

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens.

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.”

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow.

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear.

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human.

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says.

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour.

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall.

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor.

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum.

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two.

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now.

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter.

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him.

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste.

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles.

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor.

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy.

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach.

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin x you

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 9 months

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Bumping Beach Bikini - Rooster

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 0.8k

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

Warnings: Pregnancy; References to Sex/Suggestive Jokes; Flirting; Use of Second Person POV “You,” No Physical Description of Reader (Minus Pregnancy), No Y/N

Summary: Rooster admires the view of his pregnant wife on the beach.

Master List

Bradley had a mental list of the best outfits that he had ever seen you in. There wasn’t a set ranking, just general levels of appreciation.

There was a step above your normal beauty and allure, which mostly included random casual outfits that for whatever reason just got him going. Like the yellow sundress that you wore when it was exceptionally hot out that was super easy to slide his hands under. Or those jean shorts that he loved to slip his hand into the back pocket and give your ass an appreciative squeeze. Or anything of his that you chose to wear.

And the step above those were your slightly dressier outfits that got him even more excited. The backless black dress that you wore out in Vegas when the two of you went out with the Dagger Squad. Or the blue floor length dress that you wore to Maverick and Penny’s wedding that looked like it was literally sculpted for you and your figure. Though he did rip the zipper on that one.

Then there were the more special outfits. Your wedding dress mostly, since he literally burst out into tears the second that he saw you step out in it. The photo of you that he kept in his cockpit was from your wedding day with your veil spread out around you, giving you a completely angelic appearance. And, well, Rooster was also very fond of the matching white lingerie set that you wore underneath it that night too. He did rip that one too though.

And at the very top of the pyramid of his favorite outfits was, of course, your birthday suit. Nothing would ever top that one.

But seeing you in a maternity bikini with one of his Hawaiian shirts wrapped around your shoulders and your baby bump sticking out from between the folds of his shirt—now that was a sight that he ingrained into his mind for the rest of his life. That one really challenged your birthday suit in his mind.

“What?” you laughed, shooting your husband a look as you applied more sunscreen. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re glowing,” Bradley praised, still taking in your beauty.

“With sweat,” you giggled, rubbing in another layer of sunscreen. “It’s only spring and I swear I’m melting already.” You set down the tube of sunscreen and shot your husband a playful look. “You just had to make sure that I was heavily pregnant during the hottest months of the year in Southern California, didn’t you, Bradshaw?”

“Maybe you should have done the math before you begged me to get you pregnant,” Bradley replied, a bit smugly.

“I don’t beg,” you scoffed, shooting him a look. “And besides you offered about fifty times before I let you. If anyone was begging, it was you, Bradley.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Rooster mused, smiling over at you.

There was one rule to surviving with a heavily pregnant wife—it was to let you win. On just about everything. Anything health or safety wise, he would argue back, but Rooster took a rain check on all of the little things. And frankly he got more satisfaction out of seeing you happy than being right.

“Do you have enough water?” Rooster asked, sitting up some more.

You reached over and lifted your giant water bottle into the air. Taking a long sip from it just to prove your point to your husband, you set your water bottle back down on the sand.

“I’m fine. Just need some time to relax,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Before it all really sets in.”

Reaching down to pick up your ankle, Rooster started to massage your foot, earning a sigh of relief from your lips. Practically melting into your chair, you turned to your husband with a small, thankful smile as you curled your toes a bit.

“I could get used to this.”

“I’m sure you could,” Rooster chuckled, rubbing the back of your calf.

“There’s only one thing that would make this better.”

“What?”

“Take your shirt off.”

“Mrs. Bradshaw,” Rooster jokingly admonished, causing you to smile wider. “Be careful suggesting that. I knocked up the last woman who asked me to take my shirt off in that tone.”

“I’ll take the risk,” you replied with a smile, rubbing your bump slowly.

“So long as you understand the risk,” Rooster returned with a wink.

“Jesus Christ, the rest of us are trying to eat here,” Phoenix cut in, sounding annoyed.

You and Rooster turned to the other Daggers, Maverick, and Penny, who was hiding an amused smile behind her hand. Maverick turned to Penny with a similar expression, shaking his head. But most of the other Daggers, those who were single anyways, shot both you and Rooster somewhat disgusted looks.

“Sorry,” you called sheepishly, waving to them.

“I’m not,” Rooster replied, reaching up to take his shirt off.

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jeeyuns · 20 days

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top gun parallels: top gun vs. 911 7x04 vs. top gun maverick tim minear's wet dreams came true with the move to abc

#911 spoilers #911 abc #top gun #top gun maverick #911edit #tgm #top gun parallels #t gifs #t creates

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yeagrave · 3 months

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night at the museum!AU bc I can :]

[ bonus sketches below the cut🫶✨ ]

#ignore my terrible handwriting lol #this is purely self indulgent #I literally said to myself that I should draw them in their canon universe and I just haven’t lol #I can’t help it!#they’re like my little dress up dolls😭#hangster #sereshaw #my art #tgm #bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw #jake ‘hangman’ seresin #dagger squad #natasha phoenix trace #javy coyote machado

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tongue-like-a-razor · 11 days

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Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)

Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)

Worst Day Ever

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader

CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD

WC: ~1100

“This is the worst day ever.”

Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”

Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.

“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.

Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”

“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”

“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.

“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”

“But his abs did the trick?”

Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”

“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”

“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.

“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”

Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”

“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”

“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.

“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.

“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.

Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”

Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.

“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.

Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.

“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.

Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.

That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”

…

“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”

“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”

Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.

The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.

“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.

Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.

“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.

“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.

“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”

Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.

Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.

Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.

You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.

Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.

“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.

You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”

“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.

“Jake’s pretty excited.”

Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”

You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”

Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.

You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.

“I mean it,” he says.

You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.

Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”

“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”

Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.

You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.

Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”

“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”

Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”

You start laughing. “What did you think?”

Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.

Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.

You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”

Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”

“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”

“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”

Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.

“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”

Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”

Rooster Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments.

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@xoxabs88xox

@callsignvenus

@atarmychick007

@shanimallina87

@wkndwlff

@ijustwantedplums

@Elenavampire21

@SometimesAnAlice

@risingtripletaurus

@desert-fern

@sarcasm-n-insomnia

@graciereads

@pono-pura-vida

@ltfirecracker

@rascallyrascals

@kitty-moonflower-blog

@Melody-death

@bellaireland1981

@justlurkingplsignore

@rhettsluvr

@mandyppp

@eloquentdreamer

@topherwrites

@jessicab1991

@seitmai

@novastories

@stoneyggirl2

@roosterandme

@julielightwood

@primroseluna

@diorrfairy

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@dontletthemtakeyoualive

@schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker

@memoriesat30

@igotmajordaddyissues

@widemiffyhappy

@queerqueenlynn

@hizzielover

@ttokkisbee

@justmymindandstuff

@jrdyn

@callsign-mayhem

@og-baby-ob14

@chewymoustachio

@itsizzythebell

@marvelshoney

@sarcastic-sourwolf

502 notes · View notes

military-newsboys · 2 months

Text

Ice, to Bradley: And if you see your Dad, give him this message

Ice: [makes a neutral face]

Ice: He’ll know what it means

[later]

Rooster: Oh, and Uncle Tom said to give you a message

Rooster: [makes a neutral face]

Mav: Oh no. The neutral face of displeasure

631 notes · View notes

squiddosss · 4 months

Note

thoughts on Cop!Jake and Firefighter!Bradley?

hmm…

i think its sufficient to say that i like this AU

#jake is so down bad…#i mean #i would by the hot firefighter calendar too tbh #my art #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #sereshaw #hangster

1K notes · View notes

diadotcom · 30 days

Text

when the cowboys are gay fighter pilots…. or when the fighter pilots are gay cowboys…? they are gay and fighter pilots and also cowboys

931 notes · View notes

inmyglenpowellera · 2 months

Text

An Innocent Game | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Request: requested by @kati-1997. Asked for best friends to lovers, everybody sees that they like each other but he admits it after someone flirts with the reader, the crew and Penny bet that they get together.

Word Count: 5949 words

Summary: Jake and the reader are best friends, however, the Dagger Squad and Penny can see they both want to be more than that. What started off as a bet of when the two will get together turns into a different game that leads to trouble.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, angst, cursing (I think, I can't remember for sure, kissing.

It started as a game. An innocent little game for the entire Dagger Squad to play, minus Maverick who was trying to be the responsible one out of the group. But honestly, the oldest member couldn’t blame the group for what they started. They had to do something to deal with Fightertown's most clueless couple.

What started as placing bets for when the two of you finally got together turned into a drinking game.

Take a drink when one of you calls the other a nickname or says something flirty.

Take two drinks if one of you kisses the other on the cheek, forehead, or head.

Take a shot when Hangman tries to show you how to properly play pool.

Take two shots if you hold hands.

Finish your drink if you guys end up dancing together.

Needless to say, the members of the Dagger Squad are more on track for liver failure rather than winning any money.

“I’m never playing that game ever again,” Rooster groaned out to the group the next morning, slumped down in his chair with his aviators placed over his closed eyes.

“Yeah, right. We all know we’ll be doing the same thing when we go out again,” Phoenix argued with him, her state being the same, except she’s leaned forward in her seat, head down and buried in her arms.

��I’ve never drunk so much in my entire life,” Bob groaned out from next to her, sunglasses placed on his nose instead of his usual spectacles for seeing properly.

“I think I’m still drunk,” Fanboy stated, Payback humming in agreement from his seat next to him.

“I’m honestly surprised Penny served us as much as she did last night,” Coyote spoke up.

“It’s because Penny understands the pain we are going through right now with watching the two of them together. I’m starting to seriously think we need to step in and do something about it. I don’t know if my liver can take another night like this,” Rooster told the group.

“What do you expect us to do, Rooster? It’s not like we can just come out and say-,” Coyote was cut off by Pheonix shushing him at the sound of whistling.

Jake Hangman Seresin immediately stopped in his tracks when he took in the sight of his fellow aviators. He couldn’t help but laugh at the hungover group as he slowly walked further into the room, grinning around his toothpick.

“Well, it looks like some people had a fun night,” He said with a chuckle, taking his usual seat at the front of the room.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Fanboy muttered, causing Payback to send an elbow into his side.

Hangman showed no sign of hearing his muttered phrase and pulled his phone out to reply to a text sent by you.

Darling: Phoenix hasn’t replied to me this morning. Should I be worried?

His smile widened across his face as he replied to you.

Cowboy: Don’t you worry, darling. It looks to me like she and the rest of the group had a long night last night.

Jake discreetly took a picture of the group sitting behind him with their glasses on and sent it to you. Jake then locked his phone back up and placed it into his pocket before turning to look back at everybody.

“Are any of you going to be up to standards today,” He asked curiously.

“We’ll be fine Hangman, don’t you worry about us,” Coyote told his best friend.

“I just hope Maverick won’t be too hard on us today. I think I might puke if we do any crazy maneuvers,” Bob groaned.

“That’s the price to pay for underage drinking Baby on Board,” Jake said smugly from the front of the room.

“You’re such an ass,” Bob whispered, and everybody was too hungover to comment on the unexpected cursing from the WSO.

Everybody remained silent as they heard the door to their room swing open. Maverick quietly stepped into the room and slowly walked to the front, taking in the state of his team. He shook his head in amusement and cursed his girlfriend for serving them as much as she did. He dropped his clipboard on the podium in the front with a bang, causing all of the aviators, minus the cause of the problem, to let out groans of pain.

“Please never do that again,” Rooster groaned out to his godfather.

“Good morning to you too,” Maverick said with amusement in his voice. “Judging by the look of everybody in this room, practicing flight maneuvers is out of the question and is going to have to be moved to a different day.”

A resounding groaned cheer of numerous “thank gods” and “yes, pleases” rang out from the group, causing Hangman to scoff at the group and shake his head.

“That being said, you guys still aren’t off the hook. I want you all down at the beach behind the Hard Deck and ready for dogfight football within the hour,” Maverick ordered the group, causing them to still groan out in disagreement.

“I’d honestly much rather fly a plane than constantly be tackled to the ground,” Rooster argued.

“That’s the point. I don’t want to hear complaints from the maintenance team about having to hose vomit out from your cockpits, but I can’t let you all off the hook. You’re punishment for drinking so much the night before work is dogfight football. See you all in an hour,” Maverick smirked, leaving the room and the aviators to pull themselves from their seats.

-----

“They look like they’re struggling more than usual,” I commented about the sluggish group of aviators on the beach in front of me.

Penny hummed in acknowledgment and amusement before speaking. “All of them but your best friend.”

I followed her gaze to said aviator and blushed when I saw him, tanned skin glistening in the sun, muscles on show for anyone and everyone to see. I sighed wistfully at him as I continued admiring him, knowing full well Penny was also doing so with Maverick.

“They’re all hungover,” Penny reminded me with a smirk, going back to her work sitting in front of her.

“How are they so hungover? Did they keep drinking after Jake gave me a ride home,” I questioned her in disbelief.

“No, they stopped drinking when you left. You just didn’t realize how much they were drinking while you were here,” She explained. “Probably because you were so focused on a certain Lieutenant Seresin.”

I removed my gaze from the group and glared over at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mhm, sure. Keep telling yourself that,” Penny nodded at me in amusement.

I rolled my eyes at her and looked back at the group to watch Jake do a double take towards our table. I grinned at him and raised my hand in a wave, seeing a wide grin also take over his face and wave back. After his actions, I watched as all of the aviators slowly looked over and had mixed reactions to my presence. Some groaned in what looked like exhaustion while some waved at me with a small smile.

“How long have they been at this,” I questioned Penny curiously.

“A little over an hour. Pete said it was punishment for getting so drunk when they knew they had work the next morning,” Penny told me with a proud grin at the thought of her boyfriend.

“He would punish them for having fun,” I poked at her, causing her to frown at me and kick me under the table. “I was joking. So, what do you think, maybe a little hair of the dog will help them get through it?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Penny argued with me, seeming to know something I don’t know.

“It’ll be fine, Pen,” I argued with her, pulling the back door of the Hard Deck open and making my way to behind the bar.

I began gathering beers together and placing them on top of the bar. I looked around across the bartop to see no bottle opener in sight. I sighed in frustration and began moving jars of garnishes to the side to locate the opener. When unsuccessful, I groaned and squatted down to locate the opener on one of the shelves underneath the bar and let out a small cheer when I saw one behind a glass jar. I pulled the jar out and reached for the opener, placing it up on the bartop. I went to place the jar back when I noticed a heart drawn on it. I furrowed my brows and held it farther away from my face to properly examine it.

I opened the container and looked inside to see rolls of cash shoved inside of it.

“What the hell,” I murmured to myself in confusion.

I gripped the jar in my hand and walked towards the back door of the bar, pushing it open with my hip and walking towards the bartender.

“Penny, what the hell is a jar with a heart drawn on it stuffed full of cash doing underneath your bar,” I questioned her in confusion.

I could see the woman freeze briefly and some color drain from her face before she looked up at me wide-eyed. I stared at her expectantly and placed the jar on the table in front of her, watching her glance between the jar and myself a few times before speaking.

“It’s…,” She trailed off, causing me to raise my brows at her. “It’s some money I’ve been saving up for a trip for Pete and me. I’ve been hiding it underneath the bar so he doesn’t see it.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Well, I would love to contribute some, if that’s okay,” I started reaching for my purse, causing her to stop me and grab the jar from the table.

“No, that’s okay. That’s not necessary at all,” She shrugged.

“Are you sure,” I questioned her again.

“Positive,” She nodded at me tightly before looking back at the door. “Weren’t you getting drinks for everybody?”

My eyes widened at the reminder and walked back inside to grab the beers I had planned on acquiring previously. After opening all of them I gripped them in my arms and hands and began walking them out to the beach where the aviators continued their game.

“I heard that some of you could use a bit of help in your day,” I called out, gaining their attention.

I heard some sighs of relief and resounding “thank yous” as they all made their way towards me and began taking the beers off of my hands. Jake was the last one to greet me and the grin on his face caused mine to widen as well. He took the beer from my outstretched hand before gripping it and pulling me towards him.

“Thank you, darling,” he told me, leaning down to place a kiss on the top of my head.

“You’re welcome, hotshot,” I grinned at him.

I watched out of the corner of my eye as the rest of the group all shared looks before taking four long drinks of their beer in unison.

“Don’t overdo it again guys,” Maverick scolded them, taking a drink of his beer as well before sighing. “We can be done for the day. Get some rest and be ready for work on Monday.”

“Yes, sir,” Rang out around me as everybody sighed in relief at being done for the day.

I giggled at all of them in amusement as I moved closer to Jake and wrapped my arms around his waist. “How are all of you so hungover? Penny told me you stopped drinking after we left last night.”

Everybody stayed quiet at my question and continued drinking their beer, causing me to shrug and hug myself closer to Jake.

“Honey, I’m all sweaty and sandy, I’m sure you don’t want to be touching me right now,” Jake informed me with a grin, taking his sunglasses off and placing them on my face so I was no longer squinting up at him.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him, pressing my face into his chest and admiring his green eyes shining in the sunlight.

Everyone groaned simultaneously and took another long gulp of beer, causing me to squint at them in confusion.

“Is there something we’re missing here,” I questioned all of them curiously.

“Nope,” They all denied in unison.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded at them before looking back up at Jake. “Well, it’s Friday night, what are we doing tonight? Drinks at the Hard Deck again?”

“Sounds good to me. What about you guys,” Jake nodded at me before looking back at the rest of the Dagger Squad.

“Sounds great,” Rooster said after a moment of silence, everybody else hesitantly nodding in unison.

“Awesome. Well, I’m going to head home and get changed, let’s meet back here in an hour to an hour and a half,” I questioned the group, removing myself from Jake’s side and handing his sunglasses back to him.

Everybody nodded as Jake placed another kiss on my head. “Sounds good, darling. I’ll pick you up on my way again.”

I nodded at him in acknowledgment before beginning my trek off of the beach.

---------

“Here, darlin’, you’re holding it wrong, let me help you out,” Jake murmured in my ear, placing his hands over my own and leaning over me.

“I think I know how to do it properly after the many times you’ve shown me before, cowboy,” I giggled out to him, lifting my head to look into his bright green eyes.

“Well, it never hurts to have a refresher,” He replies to me, causing me to nod sheepishly and look back at the task at hand.

“Shots, everybody,” Rooster called out, causing everybody to nod at him reluctantly.

I looked up from the pool table to nod at him as well. “I’ll take one, Roo. Can you also get me another (Y/D)?”

“Sure,” He nodded at me with a tight smile before turning and going to the bar.

Jake led me in my shot once again before we both stood from the table and watched the balls move around. Once my turn was over the next person went and I handed my pool stick to the next person. Jake leaned down towards my ear and told me he was going to help Rooster with the drinks before placing a kiss on my temple. I nodded at him with a bright grin and moved to sit at one of the high-top tables surrounding the pool table. As I sat observing the game in front of me, a very drunk Phoenix came and placed her head on my shoulder, causing me to giggle at her in amusement.

“Can I help you,” I questioned her.

“I’m so drunk,” She informed me, staring at the pool table with a blank expression.

“We’ve only been here two hours,” I said in disbelief. She remained silent and only shrugged in response. “Stop drinking then.”

“I can’t. I would lose the game if I did that, and I can’t lose. I already lost my money, I can’t lose this too. This is your fault by the way,” She groaned out to me, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about,” I questioned her.

Coyote stepped forward at that moment and placed his hands on the female aviator's shoulders, moving her away from me and towards her WSO Bob.

“Ignore Phoenix. She’s just had a little too much to drink. You know how she can be sometimes,” Coyote told me, placing his hand on my shoulder

“Uh…,” I trailed off, looking past him at my female friend with confusion still written across my face.

“Here you go, (Y/N),” Rooster said, gaining my attention.

I looked over at him to see him holding my drink up to me with a grin. I smiled at him thankfully and accepted my drink before looking behind him.

“Where’s Jake?”

“Bringing the rest of the shots,” He told me before downing a couple of gulps of his beer in his hand.

I nodded in understanding before looking back at the pool table in front of me. After a few seconds of waiting for Jake, (Y/F/S) began playing from the jukebox, causing my grin to widen and begin searching for the green-eyed aviator and finding him making his way towards me with a smug grin. I smiled at him brightly and downed my shot before standing from my seat.

“You wanna dance,” Jake questioned me smugly, holding his hand out.

My smile widened and I shook my head at him in disbelief. “You do this every time we come here.”

“Nothing wrong with having a routine,” He shrugged at me before gripping my hand tightly and pulling me over to the jukebox.

I couldn’t help but laugh as he began twirling me around in the jukebox lights before pulling me closer to him. I placed my head on his chest as his hands moved to my waist. The two of us swayed comfortably back and forth for the duration of the song, occasionally catching the gazes of the rest of the Dagger Squad who were looking over at us periodically.

“I feel like something is going on with our friends that they’re not telling us,” I murmured to Jake, questioning if he heard me or not.

“What do you mean,” Jake questioned me curiously.

“They’re acting weird,” I pointed out.

“Because the way they normally act is considered normal,” Jake said in amusement, shaking his head at me.

“To me it is,” I said shyly, looking up at him.

Jake shook his head at me again with a grin before speaking. “Alright, what are they doing that has you so concerned?”

I looked up at him in disbelief this time and scoffed. “You’re telling me you seriously can’t see it? The occasional groans when the two of us do anything, the hesitation in agreeing to come out with us tonight, the heavy drinking in our presence, Phoenix telling me that her being drunk is my fault.”

Jake stood and thought before saying his piece. “I think our friends are just weird and annoying.”

I scoffed at him and grinned before shaking my head. “Sure, Seresin. Let’s go with that.”

“Look, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think it might just be me, okay? They have to spend all day with me at work and then the evening with me when we hang out. Being around the same people so much can cause some annoyance,” Jake tried to reassure me.

I sighed and shook my head before reluctantly agreeing. “Okay, I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. I’m always right,” He grinned down at me.

“That is not true,” I giggled at him before he twirled and dipped me.

(Y/F/S) came to an end and the two of us began making our way back towards the group. I walked to the table that I left my drink on and frowned when I saw my glass empty. I looked around the group to see a guilty-looking Phoenix avoiding eye contact. I laughed in amusement and shook my head at her before looking up at Jake.

“I’m going to get another drink. It looks like a drunk Phoenix beat me to this one,” I informed him, gesturing between the female aviator and my cup.

Jake laughed as well and looked back down at me. “I can get you another one, darling.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can handle it,” I reassured him, grabbing my glass to take to the bar for Penny.

Jake threw his hands up in surrender and smirked at me as I rolled my eyes, reaching forward and gripping one of his hands to pull it back down to his side. Jake smiled at me in amusement and squeezed my hand briefly before letting it go, gently pushing me towards the bar. I looked back at him with a small smile before trekking over to Penny.

“Another one,” Penny questioned me in shock, looking at my empty glass.

“Yeah, I’m afraid Phoenix beat me to this one,” I said with a gentle laugh.

Penny shook her head before turning to make my drink. I chuckled in amusement and looked back at the group of aviators at the pool table. Jake looked up from his turn at the table to make eye contact with me. He winked at me before making his move, causing me to roll my eyes and move to turn back to the bar. However, I paused in my turn when I noticed a certain spectacled WSO making his way towards me at the bar.

“Hey, Bob. You doing okay,” I questioned him in concern.

Bob nodded at me with a bright grin, slightly swaying in his spot where he stopped next to me. “Yeah, I’m great.”

I nodded in agreement with him before looking over at Penny. “Hey, Pen? Water for the WSO, please.”

Penny nodded at me as Bob began to shake his head. “No, no. I don’t need any water. I’m fine.”

I nodded at his slurred words and laughed a little bit. “Bob, you’re a lightweight on your best day, I think some water would do you some good,” I told him, placing my hand on his shoulder.

Bob drunkenly stared up at me in a haze before he sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. You’re totally right. (Y/N), you’re the best. You just care about all of us so much,” He told me, taking my hand on his shoulder in his own and moving it onto the bartop.

“Well somebody has to, Bob, when none of your family is here,” I argued with him, laughing again when he gently laid his head on my shoulder.

“You’re right, again. You're always right, and you’re so smart,” He said softly, nodding his head on my shoulder and causing his glasses to go lopsided from the action.

Penny walked over to the two of us and set my drink and the water on the bartop, causing me to give her a thankful look. I released my hand from Bob’s grip and began pushing the water toward his now free hand.

“Thank you,” He murmured, lifting his head and placing a kiss on my cheek.

I lightly blushed at his actions and shook my head at him. “Don’t thank me until tomorrow morning when your hangover isn’t as bad as it could be.

Bob gave a small giggle and nodded at me in agreement before he began chugging the water. I nodded at him in encouragement and rubbed his shoulder.

--------

Jake watched his best friend walk away from him after gently nudging her in the direction of the bar. His smile was bright until his best friend Javy gained his attention.

“Hey, Hangman, you wanna join?”

Jake broke his gaze from the (Y/H/C) after he was sure she made it to the bar safely. “Yeah, sure.”

Coyote handed him a pool stick as Rooster and Payback racked the balls. He took continuous glances at his friend as he waited his turn, telling himself that he was just making sure she was safe.

“Hey, Hangman, how about you stop staring at your girlfriend and you pay attention to the game,” Natasha slurred from her spot next to Rooster.

Rooster nudged the female and gave her a small glare at her words, causing her to look up at him and shrug innocently.

“It’s not like that,” Jake argued with her.

“Oh, please. Do you honestly think we’re all stupid enough to believe that? There’s a reason we’re the best of the best,” Natasha argued back, rolling her eyes at him.

“I think that only applies to flying,” Fanboy spoke up while Coyote began scolding the woman.

“Natasha, knock it off,” Coyote said to her sternly, leaning back up from the pool table after taking his turn.

“Why? I’m just stating the obvious. You said it yourself, Jake’s in love with (Y/N) and she’s in love with him and neither of them wants to admit it,” She slurred out with a shrug.

“That’s not what’s going on. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jake argued with her again.

“Mhm, yeah sure. You’re delusional then,” Phoenix finished off before shrugging and moving to sit with Fanboy at his table.

Jake continued to stare at the woman in deep thought until Coyote placed his hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, man, just ignore her. You know how she can be. She’s just busting your balls,” Coyote told him.

“Yeah, no, yeah, I know. It’s just… Phoenix being Phoenix,” Jake agreed with him quietly before looking back at the game at hand.

“But on a brighter note, you gotta admit that (Y/N) is looking pretty damn good tonight,” Coyote commented, causing Jake to follow his gaze and a mesmerized smile to take over his face.

“Yeah, she does,” He breathed out, taking in the woman across the room.

Coyote looked between the two people and shook his head in amusement before landing a smack to his chest. “Your turn.”

Jake nodded at him and turned towards the pool table to take his turn. He looked up from where he was leaning over to take his turn to check on his best friend again. A smile overcame his face at the sight of her already looking over at him. Jake couldn’t help but send her a wink before making his move, causing her to roll her eyes in amusement and turn back to the bar. Jake stood back up from his position and watched the next person take their turn until Fanboy spoke up from where he was sitting with Phoenix.

“Where’d Bob go?”

All he could see was red. He looked away from his best friend long enough to take another turn at 9-ball, and when he looked back up Phoenix’s nerdy WSO was putting drunken moves on (Y/N).

He watched as Bob grabbed your hand from his shoulder as you talked and gripped it in his own. He watched as the man placed his head on your shoulder and you laughed at something he said. However, the straw that broke the camel’s back was when he placed a kiss on your cheek. Jake had never asked Coyote to hold his beer and pool stick as fast as he did at that moment. The drunk aviator fumbled to hold the items and dropped the pool stick with a clang as Jake began to take quick strides across the Hard Deck towards the two individuals at the bar. His strides became even quicker at the site of his best friend rubbing Bob’s shoulder as he chugged a glass of water.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Baby on Board,” Jake questioned the WSO darkly.

Jake watched you turn to him with a look of utter confusion at his tone out of the corner of his eye but refused to take his eyes off the man standing in front of him. Bob slowly lowered the glass of water back down to the bar and wiped his mouth before looking over at his fellow aviator.

“Just drinking some water,” Bob informed him with a bright grin before picking the cup back up.

“Jake,” you whispered to him, trying to gain his attention.

Jake didn't remove his eyes from Bob and straightened up, taking a step between the two of you. Your confusion was furthered when he made this move, looming over Bob with a threatening demeanor.

“Jake, what the hell are you doing,” You questioned him, placing your hand on his arm and pulling him away from the clueless aviator.

Jake still refused to look away from Bob, causing you to move around the side of him and step between the two. Jake finally removed his gaze from Bob long enough to look down at you. You raised your eyebrows at him in question and watched his face soften. You sighed in slight annoyance and shook your head at him before turning around to look at Bob.

--------

“Hey, Bobby, how about you take your water and go join everybody else again, yeah,” I questioned him sweetly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Okay,” Bob nodded at me with a smile, turning around and making his way back toward the group.

I watched and waited until he was greeting everybody else before turning back around and looking at Jake.

“What the hell was that,” I questioned him, looking up at him in shock and disbelief.

“What do you mean “what the hell was that?” Baby on Board was clearly making a move on you,” Jake defended looking at me in disbelief as well.

“That's not what was happening. He's drunk Jake. He doesn't know what he's doing,” I argued.

“So that's supposed to make it okay,” Jake threw at me.

“No-,” I started, only to be cut off.

“What do you have the hots for Bob or something,” he added.

“What? No,” I denied quickly, only having a second to shake off my disbelief at his words.

“So it would be completely fine if Rooster were to come over and do the same thing,” He questioned me quickly.

“Wha- Jake,” I scoffed out, shaking my head at him.

“Or Coyote, or Pheonix. Maybe even Payback or Fanboy,” he began listing off, causing my frustration with him to grow.

“Jake, seriously,” I slightly whimpered.

“So it's fine for anybody to just come on over and flirt with you and touch you,” Jake snapped back.

“That's not- this isn't-,” I stuttered out, my increasing frustration with the situation making it difficult to properly form a sentence.

“Then what is it, (Y/N)? Tell me what this is. Make this make sense for me,” Jake snapped out at me.

I glared up at him and felt tears beginning to brim in my eyes when I finally snapped “You tell me, Jake. You're the one who made it into something.”

Jake finally snapped his mouth shut and took a step back from me. He remained quiet but wouldn't remove his eyes from my own.

“What, you have nothing to say now? Because you had plenty a few seconds ago,” I scoffed.

Jake continued to remain silent, now avoiding eye contact. All I could bring myself to do was nod and reach over to grab my drink from the bartop.

“Okay, well… come find me when you finally come up with an excuse for acting like a jealous boyfriend,” I told him, beginning to walk away.

However, I stopped when I felt him place his hand on my elbow.

“What if it were me,” he asked me quietly, causing me to turn and face him with obvious confusion on my face.

“What?”

“What if it were me who was acting like that with you,” he repeated louder. I remained silent as I stared at him, and Jake spoke again at my silence. “What if I didn't just act like a jealous boyfriend and I was actually a jealous boyfriend? Or just a boyfriend in general?”

My confusion changed to shock at his question. I slowly moved back to my spot in front of him and placed my drink back on the bar. I looked down at his hand and watched as it slowly moved from my elbow and down my arm to intertwine with my hand.

“Then I would tell you there's no reason to be jealous because you're the only one I have eyes for,” I told him quietly, looking up from our hands to gaze into his eyes.

I could visibly see the tension turn into relief at my words. See his shoulders relax, his eyes soften slightly, his pinched lips release into a small smile. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something in response, but quickly shut it instead.

“You can kiss me now,” I said to him in encouragement.

“Oh, thank god,” Jake said in relief before releasing my hand to cup my face in both of his, placing his lips on my own.

I released a breath of relief myself at the feeling of his lips against my own, the feeling of his hands holding my face delicately, almost as if he were afraid that I would break. My hands raised to wrap around his wrists, gently gripping them in my own and rubbing my thumbs against the delicate skin. It was a gentle kiss that turned into one filled with passion. He released my lips briefly before moving in for one more. And then one more turned into two… three… until the sound of cheering echoed across the bar, causing the two of us to pull away and look towards the sound. A bright grin broke out across my face at the sight of the rest of the Dagger Squad looking over at us and cheering as if their home team just won a championship game. I began laughing in amusement at the group before looking up at Jake, seeing him have the same reaction as me before looking back down at me.

“I’m sorry to tell you this Darling, but I don’t think you’re ever going to be able to get rid of me,” Jake informed me with a faux smile of apology.

“That’s alright. I think I just might want to keep you around for a little while,” I smirked up at him before wrapping my hand around his neck to pull him into another breathtaking kiss.

---------

Meanwhile, the Dagger Squad watched their two friends with smiles on their faces and relief in their bodies at the thought of no longer having to watch the two of them dance around each other.

“It’s about time,” Coyote said, resulting in everybody letting out different noises and statements of agreement.

“So, wanna bet on when they’ll get engaged,” Rooster questioned, causing everyone to start shouting out dates and timespans.

However, this lasted for a short time due to Phoenix speaking up from her spot next to a still-drunk Bob.

“Wait, who won the original bet,” She questioned.

The group all looked around at each other curiously before looking over at the Hard Deck owner who appeared at their side with her glass jar in her hand.

“Bob won,” She stated simply.

“What,” Was the resounding answer in disbelief.

She nodded at them in amusement before answering. “He won by two weeks. Predicted it would happen by (Y/N)’s birthday.”

The group looked over at a now passed-out Bob, his head slumped down on the table and Phoenix running her hand over his head gently.

“Did he technically cheat,” Fanboy questioned his friends, pointing over at Bob.

“There’s no way he was smart enough to do that when he’s that drunk. I think it was just a lucky break,” Payback argued with him, causing Rooster and Coyote to nod in agreement with the frontseater.

Penny made her way over to the WSO and gently shook him, causing him to raise his head from the table in a haze, looking over at the bartender in confusion.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant,” She smirked at him, leaving the jar in front of him before walking off back to the bar.

Bob looked down at the jar in confusion before looking at all of the aviators in front of him who were looking at him in disbelief.

“Did I win?”

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roosterbruiser · 3 months

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#I can feel the hyper fixation slowing inching closer #every time I look back at it it's one step nearer #help me oprah #help me doctor phil #tgm #tg #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fandom #top gun fandom #bradley rooster bradshaw #Pete maverick Mitchell #jake hangman seresin #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #imagine being in love with someone named ROBERT.#this is so embarrassing for me

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leascorner · 3 months

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b.b. | Emergency contact

Summary: “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of multiple accidents, mention of break-up, probably inexact medical and american army facts, deaths, grief, mention of trauma/PTSD, mention of food

Word Count: 4.7k

Author note: y/n = your name; y/s/n = your sister's name. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Maverick saw her first.

Hair all over her face. Cloudy eyes. Blank cheeks. Y/N looked even worse than what he had thought and considering the situation, that was perhaps to be expected. He could only imagine the call she had gotten when maybe she was on her way home after work. The kind of call that just say, “your loved one is at the hospital”. They could be dead already. They could be alive for now, but dead before she’d make it there…

Maverick did not know her personally. He knew, however, who she was and who she had been to Bradley. He had heard what had happened at that time; even if his godson had not gone into much details - he wasn’t exactly one to confide about his love life. Being aware of her story, he felt like this moment would be exactly like any of his own PTSD - reliving your worst nightmare. He had known from the moment the nurse had told him he was not family - Y/N was - that whenever she would show up, he needed to be there for her.

Getting up from the seat in which he had been waiting for some times now, he called out her name. Her eyes scanned the whole room before landing on him. She had never seen him other than in Bradley’s old photobooks, but she recognized him immediately. Though Maverick was now a couple of years older, he looked as in the pictures. It relieved her to see him there; it was partly because he did not look like someone who was going to have to bury his godson any time soon. Of course, it also startled her. The last time she had talked to Bradley, many (many) years ago, his resentment against Maverick was consuming him. She guessed they had finally worked things out.

“We were testing new materials,” Maverick explained as he sat her up in the seat next to his. Though her cheeks were slowly regaining colour, she was still trembling like the leaves of a tree caught in the wind. Perhaps it was being in this ER room again, in the exact same hospital, after all this time. Perhaps it was also the adrenaline wearing off. “Bradley’s jet had an issue and he had to extract. He landed quite roughly though. His left leg is pretty messed up.”

Y/N stayed silent, staring at him, and Maverick let her be. Of course, she had imagined him to be dead. Though she had just heard the contrary, her brain took a couple of seconds to work everything out. “So, he will be alright?”

He nodded slowly and Y/N let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She was selfishly relieved. She wouldn’t have to decide on the last clothes he would wear. She wouldn’t have to be handed his flag and colors. She wouldn’t have to watch his coffin buried six feet deep. She wouldn’t have to read over and over that stupid phrase written in the marble of this grave. She wouldn’t have to get through this again.

She had done that too much for her own lifetime already.

“Doctor, this is Miss Y/L/N”.

Maverick’s hand on her shoulder made Y/N surface out of her thoughts. She was quick to hop onto her feet and greet the surgeon that had just joined them with a nod. She braced herself for whatever news he had to give - couldn’t be that bad, Bradley was alive after all - and when it didn’t come, she presumed from his look that he was silently waiting for Maverick to go. She understood now that she was the only one listed as his emergency contact.

“He can stay, he is family.”

The surgeon nodded and started to explain in a more complex manner what Maverick had already told her before. Bradley would be immobilised for a couple of weeks, waiting for the bruise in his knee to resolve before he could undergo surgery. After that he would still need to have Physical Therapy before being cleared.

“How long until- how long ‘till he can go back to flying?” Y/N asked, nervously.

“A few months, six at most.” At her side, it was Maverick’s time to let out a shaky breath. He already knew it was going to be difficult to keep Bradley off the tarmac for this long. “He is awake now, if you want to visit.”

After they thanked him, Y/N heard Maverick turning to her - only a few seconds away to say what she assumed to be a “you go first” - and she stayed frozen on her spot, not able to make a move as she finally understood she could be seeing Bradley again – it had never crossed her mind before. There was no way she was facing a very much alive Bradley today. Not today, nor any time soon.

“You go, I’ll handle the paperwork.”

Maverick knew better than to say a thing; he only nodded, thanking her quietly. He knew she would most likely be gone when he would be back. He didn’t blame her though.

This was just a tragic story.

Bradley saw her first.

He had been at the beach near Penny’s bar probably a thousand times since he last spoke to her, all these years ago. Yet, never had he seen her there.

Watching her, sat on an enormous beach towel, watching Henry - or at least he guessed it was Henry - playing in the sand a few feet away, he could only feel guilty for what he had put her through a month ago. The call from the military hospital, the minimal information given, the drive alone, fear clenching her stomach, the parking lot where she could’ve vomited her gut out, the hospital smell. It must have been like reliving her worst nightmare. Except this time there was no tragic ending...

He had changed his emergency contact as soon as the painkiller had permitted him to think straight. To be honest, after all those years, he had forgotten she was even mentioned in his file. They had never been married and therefore had never been officially together for the Navy. He really thought no one was his emergency contact; it only felt natural having no family of his own. No parent. No wife. No kid. Now, he only had his godfather - they had reconnected a couple of years ago.

He was only relieved this had happened when Maverick was here, that someone was able to be by her side and that this time, she didn’t have to live it all alone.

Though he wanted to, Bradley did not go and apologize. He imposed so much on her already. Breaking her heart. Letting her go. Probably scaring the hell out of her. No, he definitely had done enough already.

He was mentally wishing her all the best from afar, ready to turn back to the bar, when the little boy at her side made his heart stopped. One of his tiny fingers was pointing in his direction and it took only what seemed to be a second for Y/N to turn around as well, her eyes landing on him. Against all odds, she waved shyly in his direction, which made Henry - who he had only met when he was still a couple of days old - waved at him as well.

Awkwardly, Bradley waved back and decided that at this point, he couldn’t just turn around and leave. The walk to their spot was pure torture with his messed-up knee for which he had yet to undergo surgery.

“You are the guy in the wedding picture in the hallway,” Henry said once Bradley was to their level. Bradley frowned, not sure what to answer to this. Of course, he understood he was talking about Y/S/N’s wedding, though he didn’t quite understand how this little guy would have recognized him in the hundred guests that must appear on the pictures.

“There is a picture in the hallway,” Y/N simply answered, before explaining to Henry that the polite way to greet someone was to say hello first.

Bradley only nodded, preferring to stay silent as he wasn’t really sure what to say now that he was there.

“How is your knee?”

“Well, could be better, I guess?” Bradley shrugged and Y/N nodded, a serious expression on her face. He hadn’t been in the best of mood due to his injury, and he realized too late this tone wasn’t the friendliest. To make sure she didn’t take it personally, he was quick to continue: “I wanted to say-”

“It’s okay,” She cut him off; she couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, yet she wanted to spare them both the struggle of his thanks. She hadn’t done him a favour running to his side at the first call. In fact, she hadn’t really thought anything, coming running blindly to the hospital as the nurse on the phone told her he had an accident. Maybe it was selfish of her, maybe this time she had thought she could save someone she knew.

“No, I don’t think it really is…” He sighed. “I changed my emergency contact, just so you know.”

“Thanks.”

Some more silence.

Bradley’s hands had become even sweatier, and it wasn’t due to the weather of the first days of spring. This whole situation was literally making him so uncomfortable. It was like walking on eggshell; he didn’t want to break her even more.

“I very am sorry.”

Bradley wasn’t sure what he was really sorry for. This wasn’t just for the scare, last month. It was also for breaking her heart, leaving her the second he had his dream job - like they couldn’t have made it work, not being around when Y/S/N and her husband died in that horrible car crash, him only sending flowers for the funerals, him not calling to make sure Y/N was surviving - how could he have, when he was the one leaving her to live his dream life and she was now the legal guardian of her six-months-old nephew at thirty something.

Y/N only stared at him, trying to see through him like she used to. He was sincere - she knew that much.

“I know.”

It had been a little more than three months when Bradley saw her again.

He had just completed yet another session of physical therapy; though it had been ten weeks since he had surgery and he didn’t need crutches to walk any longer, he still had not recovered the totally of his knee motion. Maverick was driving him twice a week to the military hospital to have PT; with his messed up left knee, Bradley couldn’t drive his manual Bronco.

While he was patiently waiting for the secretary to hung up the phone to get his next appointment scheduled, his eyes landed on a familiar face in the ER waiting room. She was here yet again, eyes puffy and red, breathe short and hair all over the place.

“Y/N?”

Hearing her name, she jumped from her seat, all senses on alert. Her eyes scanned the room urgently before stopping on Bradley. Understanding it was him calling her name, the tears she was holding back started flowing on her cheeks again. His heart started to pound furiously in his chest as the only thought that passed his mind was that something terrible had happened. Again.

“Hey, hey,” he said once he had walked - not so easily - to her. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his white T-shirt. She was grabbing him as if he was a lifebuoy. “What happened?”

As her only answer, her body broke into violent sobs. Bradley kept her close, stroking her hair gently, trying to soothe. It took what seemed to be like a couple of minutes for her to at least remember to breath and a couple more for her to be able to speak multiple words in a row. This time, Bradley held her through it all.

“Henry fell down the swing and the school called and- and-” Some more sobs rocked her body and Bradley only held her tighter, heart swelling of seeing her in this state. She must have had the scare of her life. Again.

“It’s okay,” Bradley reassured her. “Is he with a doctor now?”

She nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks. “He has a bad cut on his forehead,” sob, “needed stitches,” sob, “I couldn’t - I couldn’t” stay with him, Bradley understood even if she didn’t finish her sentence. “Shouldn’t see me like that.”

“It’s okay.”

Y/N was still grabbing his T-shirt like she would drown had she ever let go, so he held her a little more, wondering how long she had been in the ER waiting room, clearly in utter panic.

“Breathe with me,” he said. She looked up at him and gently, he dried off her tears. For one split second, he was brought back to that night, what felt like a hundred of years ago. He had promised her everything would be okay. How wrong had he been…

If anything, this was a very bad remake of their break-up.

“He is okay now, more fear than harm.” Y/N nodded, trying to gain back her composure. “You know, somebody told me one day that scars actually made you look pretty badass,” he pointed to his own scars on his chin and cheeks. “It will be a hit with girls and boys for sure.”

“I don’t remember saying that,” she finally smiled. There she is, he thought.

“Miss Y/L/N?” Y/N let go of him to turn to the doctor he understood was taking care of Henry. “We are all done. A nurse is doing his bandage right now. It will need to be redone once a day for a week and we’ll see him again in ten days to remove his stitches.”

Y/N squeezed the hand Bradley didn’t realize she was holding. She was relieved and still, she did not move when the doctor went away.

“You’ve got an automatic, right?” This made Y/N turned back to Bradley in surprise. He had that small smirk on his lips that she could recognize anywhere. The one that he offered when he had a surprise for her. Whatever it was a bath after an extremely long day or to watch Love Actually for the second night in a row when she was on her period. All she had to do back then was to follow his lead, she knew he would take care of her. The truth was, she would have followed him anywhere.

And even after all those years, she still trusted him.

“You do the paperwork, I’ll get him?” Y/N nodded slightly, muttering a quiet thank you. After yet another nod to make sure she was okay, Bradley finally let go of her hand and went to get Henry. On his way, he texted Mav to let him know he did not require a lift up from the hospital anymore. Something had come up, but he’ll explain later.

When Bradley entered the examination room, Henry was sat down on the examination table and a nurse was just finishing to put the last blaster on his forehead.

“Hey buddy!” Henry’s eyes face lifted up seeing Bradley on the doorstep, unfazed it was him rather than her aunt who went to get him. “A little birdie told me ice-cream would make it all better.”

“Bradley!”

Against all will, the ice-cream little “date” had become a recurrent event now. It started ten days later when Henry had his stitches gotten taken out - Y/N asked if she could pick him up after PT to return him the favour. Then, it was a week or so later, for the end of the school year. Then again, on regular occurrence during the summer - sometimes with their friends and family. Some other times, just the three of them.

Today was the first day of the new school year, Henry’s first day of 1st grade. It also was six months now that Bradley had been in contact again with Y/N. Still a couple of weeks until he could get cleared for flying again. A couple of weeks until he would be deployed somewhere on this planet.

And Bradley, picking up Henry from school with ice-cream for celebration, wasn’t really sure how to feel about it; he had decided to elude the matter for now.

“Hey buddy!”

Bradley watched the little guy through his reversing mirror to make sure he was putting his seatbelt on before driving off. He and Y/N had planned to meet up at the beach, once she would have finished work.

On the way there, Henry told him all about Mrs Simpson, his new teacher; how he got lucky to be paired with his best friend, Tom in the class room, and how sure he was that, by Christmas, he would be able to read so they could share reading of his bedtime stories: “You’ll read Daddy Pig’ part and I’ll read Peppa Pig’ part, okay?”

Yes, after all, Bradley definitively did not want to think of his future deployment; he would rather just stay here, in this moment in times.

After taking a swim and perfecting Henry’s swimming techniques (Bradley had taught him how to swim during the summer in between two ice-cream dates), Bradley and Henry were in the middle of sandcastles building contest when Y/N finally arrived.

Bradley sat on the beach towel, Y/N at his side, as Henry excitingly told them about his day and most importantly, all the painting materials they had in his class and that he couldn’t wait to test. The sun was starting to decline in the distance, bathing them in its last warm sunshine. A soft breeze was tenderly blowing his hair. Y/N, with Henry on her knees, was sharing a story of her sister’s first day of ‘big girl’ school and her nephew had a million questions about his mom.

Like every time the subject was brought up in his presence, Bradley tried to add as much details as he remembered of Y/S/N. It was some of his best childhood memories after his dad died: Maverick and his mom making sure his dad’s memory was still alive. He hoped it would be the same for Henry.

“You know what our family tradition was to celebrate the first day of school year?” Henry shook his head no. “Pizza night!”

Bradley laughed as the boy’s face lighted up; he was quick to be on his feet and gather his stuff to get back to the car - it was probably the first time ever Henry would agree to leave the beach without making a fuss.

Y/N helped Bradley to get up - even if he had told her multiple times before that his knee was perfectly fine, she had still treated him as if he would fall down any time. He was attending his last physical therapy sessions by now and he had already started physical training at the base. In a few weeks, he would have to have a medical examination to confirm he could fly again; his accident was well behind him at this point.

Folding the beach towel together, Y/N took this as the opportunity to thank him again for picking up Henry that day.

“My pleasure,” Bradley had assured her.

“Seriously, I owe you big time. I couldn’t see myself putting him in afterschool for his first day.”

For a split second, Bradley saw on her face an expression he knew by heart but couldn’t quite recall what it was; the next second, she was continuing to file her bag with Henry’s beach toys. It took a moment more to Bradley to understand what he had just seen: guilt. The same guilt he had observed in his mom eyes when there were things he asked, and she couldn’t simply offer him as a single mom.

“I don’t know if you are being told that enough but Y/N,” He gently grabbed her wrist to make her stop filling her bag and look back at him. “You are doing more than good with Henry.”

“I am trying my best.”

“And you are doing good,” he assured her again, squeezing her hand in his. Realizing what he had just done, he grimaced slightly but Y/N was quick to reassure him and squeezing his hand in return. “Let’s go.”

Later that afternoon, they were sat down at Pizzeria Luigi, waiting for their pizza. Bradley and Henry were having a funny face contest - Bradley copiously winning despite all the kid’s efforts. Y/N was laughing along with them, the small intimacy moment they shared before was long forgotten.

“That’s a cute family you got there,” the waitress smiled as she put their pizza on the table.

“Oh, we are not-” Bradley started, but was quick to be cut by Y/N saying:

“Thanks!”

While Y/N exchanged a few more banalities with the waitress, Bradley looked at her, utterly touched she would consider him family. He was incredibly lucky she even accepted him in his life again, after how much he had hurt her. On the restaurant terrace, surrounded by the last rays of the summer sun, she looked so happy. When she looked at him with her big sparkly eyes and the biggest smile on her lips, his own heart swelled of happiness.

And he swore he could have kissed her. Right here, right now.

“Henry, can you go wash your hands please? Dinner is almost-” Y/N passed a head through the kitchen door framing, looking what Henry was doing in the entrance corridor. “Bradley?”

“Hi,” he greeted her quietly from the doorstep, Henry by his side the doorknob still in his hand.

Bradley stayed silent, not moving, and his eyes wouldn’t quite meet Y/N’s. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come over - he was more and more these past weeks, but he was usually texting first to confirm he wasn’t imposing on them. Him showing up unannounced, at that time of the night, was odd.

“Your hands, please.” The kid passed in front of her on his way to the bathroom and Y/N waited for him to be gone before turning back to Bradley.

He was looking at a picture hooked up on the hall wall. The picture of his sister’s wedding on which her sister, her husband, Bradley and she were all smiling. It has been taken a few weeks before he was accepted into the academy. A few months before her whole world crashed down. He had walked by a multitude of times before, yet today he couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Bradley?”

Bradley’s attention finally went back to her, a look on his face Y/N couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t the apologetic look he had worn when he broke up with her. It wasn’t the mask of fury she had seen on his face when he had explained to her one night that his US Naval Academy application had been rejected, by Mav out of all people. It wasn’t either the naturally serious face he would most often wear, nor the sly smirk she had seen on his lips so many times.

His stare was even darker than usual and heavy on her. She couldn’t quite figure out what he wanted to say if he wasn’t using words. One thing she had learned with Bradley was to not rush him and let him come to her.

“We were about to eat, mind to join us?” She asked instead of the millions of questions in her head.

He only nodded, not speaking a word. Y/N took another look at him before heading back to the kitchen.

They stayed silent for a couple of minutes in the kitchen, waiting for Henry to come back from the bathroom. Knowing the kid, with the times he was taking, he was probably making a mess with the soap in there, but none of them went checking on him.

Y/N was watching the vegetables cooking and Bradley was leaned against the kitchen sink unit, deeply in his thoughts, arms crossed over the short-sleeve shirt he still wore even if it was already late October.

“I’ve been cleared.”

Y/N was surprised by the tone of his voice - if there was only one thing for which Bradley was living, it would be flying. “Is that… a bad thing?”

Bradley sighed, passing a hand on his face. He had only received the news about an hour ago and the first thing he had done was to drive to Y/N’s place. He had tried so hard not to think about this moment and what he would do - as if he had any other option than just to follow the orders. Now that the moment had come, it didn’t feel right with him.

“I-” another sigh, “these last months, I just realized what I could have had if-”

If he hadn’t felt like he had to do it on his own.

If he hadn’t been too scared of hurting her.

All those moments he shared with Y/N and Henry over the last few months had made him realized that his own fear - of hurting the people he loved and especially leaving them behind - had prevented him to live some beautiful moments. He had self-sabotaged himself, breaking off with Y/N so he could be sure she wasn’t hurt by his choices - ironically enough. He had shut her off, convincing himself somehow that he was doing the right thing for the both of them - and how wrong had he been, those last few months had proven him.

“Do you remember what you told me when you broke up with me?” Y/N asked suddenly, making Bradley look back at her. He wasn’t exactly sure what he had said besides ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’. When he thought about that night, he could only remember her tears, her hands grabbing his shirt and not wanting to let go of him. She had fought for them, so hard, but he had already made up his mind.

He shook his head no as Y/N moved closer.

"Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can come together,” Y/N reeled out quietly as if she had re-lived this scene over and over again in her head.

Bradley laughed bitterly, “I overdid myself on that one, didn’t I.”

Y/N wasn’t laughing. She was staring at him, this determined look on her face. Like she had waited for this moment for a while now. “I do think that is true, somehow,” Y/N smiled softly.

She had thought about this a lot over the last few weeks - it wasn’t just only her now, she was also responsible for Henry. It wasn’t her intention falling back in love with him, after Bradley got back in her life. She had been pleased to find in him a friend, a friend that had rekindled a flame inside her with his sly grin and attention. She felt more alive than ever. He made her feel so… whole.

Heart pounding, Bradley watched her intensely. There were unspoken words in the air, words neither of them wanted to stay out loud, too afraid it would break the spell. He knew looking at her now that they were on the same page. He knew he could let go of his fear; whatever life had in store for them would always be worth it.

They could have stayed like this forever. But Y/N couldn’t let her chance pass.

Without warning, she kissed him. If he hadn’t been leaned against the unit, Bradley would have fallen backwards from the feeling of her lips on his, how his hands found her hips by instinct to bring her closer to him, and how he could feel the warmth radiating off her. It was like in his best memories, and just like it had always have been: two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

“What does that mean?” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to hers. He needed her to say it.

“That, perhaps, you could add me back as your emergency contact?”

747 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 10 months

Text

Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Hangman

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin / Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only!

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Humor; Suggestive Language; Marital Disagreements; Threats of Kicks to the Balls; Female Reader with No Description, No Y/N, Second Person POV, Use of "You"

Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.

Master List

Holding your head in your hand, you tried to quell your sudden nausea as your husband continued to drive you and your family across town to the Bradshaw family home for a Dagger pool day. Your head was pounding and you swore that your body was naturally swaying on its own and your kids fighting in the back seat was not helping your mood.

“Hey!” Jake barked when your son kicked the back of your seat, causing all three of your kids to jump. “Sit down and apologize to your mama right now, Charlie.”

“Sorry, Mama,” Charlie mumbled out quietly.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied softly, still feeling out of it.

“If you three don’t stop fighting, we’re not going to the pool,” Jake warned your three kids. Coming to a stop at a red light, he turned around to shoot them the classic ‘do not test me today’ look that your kids knew to not test. “So, if you want to go to the pool and play with your friends, you’re going to stop fighting. Got it?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the three of them chorused together.

Turning to shoot you a concerned look, since you hadn’t looked like yourself for what felt like days now, Jake started driving again when the light turned green. Pulling into the Bradshaw driveway, you slowly got out of your seat and moved to pull your kids out of the back. Jake grabbed the food and took Liam and set him on his hip so that you could walk in without any extra weight.

The Bradshaw house was packed with the Daggers and their families. The years since the uranium facility mission had only made the Dagger relationships stronger and even though they didn’t all live near each other anymore, they made efforts to get together when they could. Especially with a lot of their kids being around the same age.

Your three kids quickly joined in the activities with the other Dagger babies, letting you get a brief moment of peace. You and Jake stepped out into the backyard with Jake resting a concerned hand on your lower back, as if he was worried that you’d collapse on him.

“Are you sure that you’re fine?” Jake asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “I probably just need to eat and drink some more water. That’s all.”

“Go sit down. I’ll grab you something.”

Jake reluctantly parted from your side and headed inside again while you made your way over to where Phoenix and Payback’s wife Dana were sitting by the pool. The direct sun caused your head to pound once again.

“You look horrible,” Phoenix commented, causing you to sigh and drop onto a chair.

“I feel horrible,” you muttered, shifting the umbrella over to block the sun.

“Are you sick?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“No. I don’t have a fever or anything like that. It’s probably just some stomach thing or just me being exhausted.”

“You’re nauseous?”

“Only sometimes,” you replied with a shrug, lying flat on your back.

“Have you been sleeping well?”

“No,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes and blinking slowly. “Liam’s still sleeping in our bed most nights and he usually kicks one of us awake. Mostly Jake, actually.”

“Eh, Hangman probably deserved it,” Phoenix muttered, shrugging her shoulders.

“Love you too, Phoenix,” Jake muttered, arriving on the scene.

He offered you a plate of food and a cup of water. You took the offering from your husband and shot him a small smile. In return, Jake leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“Thanks, baby,” you told him, smiling softly.

“You’ll let me know if you need to go home, right?” Jake asked you, shooting that look that he always did whenever you over-exerted yourself.

“Yes, Commander Seresin,” you replied sarcastically, shooting him an exasperated expression.

“We don’t need to be here for your foreplay,” Phoenix stated from behind Jake, causing Dana to burst out into snickers.

“Daddy!” Annie called, causing Jake to immediately spin around to see her standing on the steps of the pool with Bob right beside her. “Come play in the pool!”

“I’m coming, Princess!”

Jake peeled off his shirt and handed it over to you. Shooting you one last concerned look, Jake headed over to join Annie in the pool. You folded his shirt up and set it beside you before reaching for your water.

“How long have you been feeling ill?” Dana asked as you sipped at your water. “Jake seems pretty concerned.”

“About a week,” you replied quietly, reaching for the food that he brought you.

“You made an appointment?”

“Not yet. But I’m worried that he’ll make one for me if I drag my feet anymore,” you stated honestly, popping a grape into your mouth.

“Are you telling me that we’re in for another classic Hangman freak out?” Phoenix sighed, taking a long sip of her beer. “I haven’t had enough drinks to deal with that yet.”

“I think that Annie’s keeping him distracted for now,” you responded, smiling as Jake tossed Annie up in the air and caught her. Annie squealed as Jake pressed a kiss to her cheek and tossed her in the air again. “She’s got him wrapped around her finger at all times.”

You moved to eat some crackers and cheese, keeping everything lighter and stomach friendly. But when your caught a whiff of potato salad that all seemed to be for nothing. Plugging your nose, you quickly set down your food and sipped at your water to try and keep your stomach from rolling dangerously.

“Do you need Jake?” Dana asked, sitting up.

“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Phoenix added, sharing a look with Dana.

“I’m fine. And stop looking at me like that or Jake is going to notice.”

“I’d make that appointment soon,” Phoenix told you honestly. “Not much gets by him. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“No, you’re right,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair. Staring up at the umbrella over your head, you sunk a bit more into your seat. “I’ll make the appointment.”

~~~~~

“Any allergies?” the nurse asked you.

“No, none,” you replied, sitting up on the exam table of your doctor’s office.

“Any changes to your medication?”

“Nope.”

“When was your last period?”

“I don’t know, probably three weeks ago or something like that,” you replied, not entirely sure. You hardly kept track of it anymore at this stage in your life.

“And any chance that you could be pregnant?” she asked, causing you to shake your head.

“My husband had a vasectomy.”

“But are you still sexually active?”

“Yes.”

“In the last few months?”

“Yes.”

“Then, we’ll need you to take a urine test,” the nurse assistant replied, pulling out a plastic cup from the cupboard. “It’s standard procedure.”

Reluctantly, you took the cup and headed down the hall to the bathroom. After what felt like twenty years, your doctor finally entered your exam room.

“How are we doing today, Mrs. Seresin?”

“I’ve been better,” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth.

“Yes, I understand that.”

Your doctor asked you a series of questions, did a quick physical exam, before returning to the computer in the corner of the room. Typing in your answers and some notes to herself, your doctor turned back to you.

“Well, I think with all of your symptoms and your test results, there’s one clear cause of your illness—you’re pregnant.”

“That’s funny,” you laughed off, but your doctor remained serious.

“Mrs. Seresin, you’re pregnant. Your urine test came back with clear results. Based on your hormone levels, I’d put you somewhere around six to eight weeks.”

“But my husband got a vasectomy,” you insisted, as if that changed anything. “There’s no way that I’m pregnant.”

“Do you use protection with him?”

“No,” you replied, as if it were obvious.

“Might I suggest making an appointment with your obstetrician?” your doctor spoke softly, causing you to sink into your seat.

~~~~~

Making dinner that night, you swore that you weren’t seeing or thinking straight. Your doctor’s words kept echoing around head and stole any smidge of sanity that you maintained. Your kids were running around causing a ruckus as they always were and Jake still wasn’t home, which only added to your inner turmoil.

You hadn’t told Jake about what the doctor told you. It didn’t feel right breaking that kind of news over the phone or text. And frankly, you were torn between stressing about Jake’s reaction to your news and wanting to have the upper hand so that you could jump out strangle him the second that he got home.

“Daddy’s home!” Charlie called, setting off a chain reaction.

You looked up to see the kids run over to the door to greet Jake. Trying to not get too caught up in how excited the kids were to see their dad, you focused on getting the table set up for dinner. The door swung open and Jake stepped inside, immediately dropping his bag and holding out his arms.

“You’re all here for me?” he teased, pulling your three kids in for a hug and kiss. “Well, aren’t I just the luckiest guy?”

Sniffling, you set down the plates full of food for the kids before turning back for the kitchen to get started on the dishes. Jake usually did them after dinner, but you just needed to do something to steady yourself. Jake released your kids, telling them to go and wash their hands, before turning to you.

“Hey, Mama,” he greeted you, playfully tapping your ass. Wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you away from the dishes, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and then your neck. “How was your day?”

“Oh, I just found out some news,” you replied, seemingly calm.

“What kind of news?” Jake asked curiously.

“The kind that will have you sleeping on the couch tonight,” you stated, a bit more aggravation seeping into your tone.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jake questioned, confused and looking a bit like a kicked puppy with your harsh tone. But that look wasn’t going to do him any favors today.

“You didn’t keep up your end of the deal.”

“Honey, what deal?”

“The one where you promised to not knock me up with another one of your heavy, always late, big-headed children!”

“Wait, you—you’re pregnant?” Jake breathed out, inspecting you closer. “Really?”

“I could easily knee you in the balls right now,” you warned Jake, eyes narrowing. “Maybe I need to since your ‘vasectomy’ clearly didn’t work!”

“What’s with the air quotes?” Jake asked, grabbing your hands. “Honey, you were there.”

“Not in the operating room.”

“Were you supposed to be?”

“Jacob,” you warned him, shooting him a look to shut up.

“Mommy, Liam was trying to eat the soap again,” Charlie complained, causing you to look away from Jake.

“For the love of—Liam, what did I tell you about eating soap?”

“I got this,” Jake told you, turning to walk over to the bathroom. “Just . . . sit down and breathe.”

Jake walked off to grab Liam while you scrubbed away at the dishes again. Charlie sat down at the table, closely followed by Annie and then Jake carried out Liam and sat him in his chair. Turning to see you still erratically scrubbing at the same pot, Jake sighed and approached you. He called your name, but you didn’t look up.

“Honey,” Jake tried again, “let’s just eat and I’m sure that you’re exhausted and probably just want to shower and go to bed.”

“I made an appointment with my obstetrician and with your urologist,” you replied, changing the subject on your husband.

“My urologist?”

“About your ‘vasectomy’,” you stated, adding passive aggressive air quotes again around vasectomy. “It’s in a month.”

“When? I have a bunch of—”

“—I already called your secretary and picked a time that fits into your schedule.” Turning to shoot your husband a look, you wiped off your hands on a towel. “You’re going.”

You stormed past him, leaving no room for argument. Jake winced and watched you walk over to the dinner table with your three kids. And although you looked just about ready to rip his head off and could very possibly read his thoughts, Jake couldn’t help but think about how much better the dining table set would look with six chairs instead of five.

But he wasn’t going to talk about that right now. He wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.

~~~~~

Jake sat on the exam table while you paced around the room with your arms folded across your chest and your purse in the optimal position to swing it and whack your husband. You were already starting to show and your appointment with your obstetrician was the week before. You and the baby were perfectly healthy despite the fact that you were in ‘advanced maternal age.’

Your husband slept on the couch after that appointment too just because you were feeling spiteful about that.

Jake was still dressed in his uniform, on a short break from work to attend this appointment. He met you at the doctor’s office while Dana Fitch invited your kids over for the afternoon. And although he tried to brighten your mood by promising to grab dinner on his way home and maybe something extra, you face was permanently screwed into a frown since you arrived at the office.

A knock on the door caused you to stop pacing and turn as the urologist slowly stepped into the room with a kind smile.

“Mr. and Mrs. Seresin. How are we?”

“Pregnant,” you stated bluntly.

“Yes, I heard. Congratulations,” the urologist replied somewhat awkwardly before taking his seat. “Though I’m assuming you’re wondering how that’s possible.”

“You read my mind,” you responded calmly and not at all sarcastic.

“Well, I should inform you that you’re not the first couple to have a pregnancy after a vasectomy. While it’s not common, it can still happen.”

“And in this case?”

“I’m not entirely sure without any additional tests,” the urologist replied honestly. “And in this case, I think that starting with a sample is the best course of action. Once we have those results, we can discuss whether or not another vasectomy is necessary.”

“Another one?” Jake asked quietly.

But he instantly tried to bite back his words when he caught the way that your head snapped around to shoot him a glare.

“Oh, that must be so inconvenient and painful for you to have to deal with,” you drawled sarcastically, causing Jake to wince.

“Sorry.”

You left the room to let Jake talk with the urologist privately and to check in on the kids. Glancing at the door to make sure that you were in fact gone, the urologist turned to Jake.

“I’m not trying to overstep and cause any trouble but we often ask men in this position if there is any possibility of them wanting a paternity test,” the urologist offered, causing Jake to chuckle.

“Not necessary,” Jake replied, laughing off the absurdity of the urologist’s suggestion. “Just some strong swimmers. That’s all.”

~~~~~

Jake headed out to the parking lot to see you sitting on a bench in the shade of the building, furiously typing away at your phone. Approaching carefully, like he was approaching a wild animal, he slowly sat down beside you.

“They’ll call me back with the results in a few days,” Jake stated, causing you to nod and put away your phone. “Are you okay?”

“I still want to kick you in the balls,” you stated, shooting your husband a look.

“Have I mentioned that I greatly appreciate your restraint?” Jake offered, causing you to scoff. “Honey, I can’t read your mind. Please just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I just . . . I can’t believe we’re those people,” you sighed, holding a hand to your head.

“What do you mean by those people?”

“You know, those people. Those couples who were dumb enough after having three kids to not know what birth control is. Those couples that can’t keep their hands off of each other and just fuck around like a bunch of animals and there’s evidence for all of it! I mean, who sets out planning to have four kids?”

“Baby, who gives a shit about what other people think about us?” Jake replied seriously, grabbing your hand. “It’s none of their business about how many kids we do or don’t have. And I’m not going to apologize to anyone for maintaining a healthy sex life with my wife after three kids. Are you?”

“No,” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Of course not.” Pausing for a moment, you turned back to Jake. “I kind of rubbed it in stupid Gina Denison’s face that we’re still banging a few days ago.”

Gina Denison was one of the moms of Charlie’s friend group. Her husband was a tool and looked like he hated his life every time he showed up. And Gina was always so flirty with Jake, grabbing his arm and complimenting him on everything, that you contemplated kicking your son’s soccer ball straight into her face.

“She did look pretty glum actually,” Jake mused, rubbing your knee.

“Good.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Jake asked, causing you to sigh.

“There’s the whole bedroom situation first of all. Unless we want to turn the guest room into the nursery, the kids are going to have to share.”

“We’ll just convert the playroom upstairs. Easy fix. A new coat of paint and moving some things around and we’re fine.”

“And we can only fit three car seats into the back of your truck.”

“Then we’ll take the other car for family outings,” Jake pointed out softly, rubbing your knee again.

“And Liam’s still coming into our bed most nights. What happens when I’m eight months pregnant and there’s no room?”

“I’ll have a talk with him about it,” Jake offered, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve talked to him about it a hundred times already. What’s changed?”

“I have my ways.”

And by ‘his ways,’ Jake was quietly referring to the fact that when you were heavily pregnant, you snored. Loudly. And now Jake had never told you that when you were heavily pregnant you snored because he wasn’t an idiot. It was like complaining about how uncomfortable the chairs were in the delivery room. Only a fucking selfish pathetic loser complained about that stuff to his pregnant wife.

And he already had a slip up with the whole second vasectomy thing in there and he was trying to quickly recover from that.

Turning to you and gently cupping your cheek so that you turned to him, Jake leaned in and rested her forehead against your own.

“Honey, you know that I’m here, right? You don’t have to go through this alone and you don’t have to hold all of the stress about it. We’re fine. We have the money. We have the space. We have the extra hands if we need babysitters. And for anything else, just tell me about it. I’m here for you and our four babies. Anything you want, you let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. Smiling up at your husband through your eyelashes, you suddenly grew serious. “I want you to get another vasectomy.”

“Yeah, I thought you were going to say that,” Jake sighed, wincing a bit again.

~~~~~

Jake was turning forty this year. The big 4-0. And it only seemed fitting to him that he got to have his four kids by his side for this birthday. But since it happened to fall on a random Tuesday that Jake had to work, you and the kids just put together a small party for him. You cooked him his favorite dinner and the kids gave him the card that they made for him. And then it was time for the cake.

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Daddy, Happy Birthday to you!” you and three of your kids sang along.

But little baby Hazel, who was about a year and a half now, was more focused on trying to touch the cake with her finger than singing. Jake smiled and grabbed her hand, shaking it to distract her long enough for you to take a photo.

“Alright, time to blow out the candles!” you called, holding up your phone to take the photo.

“On three,” Jake instructed your kids. “Ready? One . . . two . . . three.”

Your four kids, who were all seated or standing next to Jake, blew out the candles with him. You snapped a few quick photos before putting your phone away. Jake started clapping, causing Hazel to giggle and clap along too. You quickly grabbed the cake and cut it up. Passing around the slices of cake, you smiled and pressed a loving kiss to your husband’s lips.

“Happy Birthday, Jake.”

“Thank you, baby,” he returned, shooting you a wink.

Your kids talked excitedly with Jake about the upcoming weekend. Jake’s parents were flying in for his birthday and you were going to take a short vacation as a family. Jake listened and talked intently with your children before it was time to start the bedtime routines. You and Jake worked together to get Hazel and then Liam and then Annie and Charlie all ready for bed.

And once the kids were all asleep and tucked away for the night, you grabbed Jake by the hand and pulled him into your shared bedroom. In about three seconds flat, you had Jake on his back and straddled him.

“Happy Birthday,” you grinned, pressing a set of needy kisses to his lips.

“Are you my present?” Jake asked coyly, kneading your hips with his hands.

“Sure am, Cowboy,” you replied, pulling off your shirt and tossing it onto the floor. But before you kissed him again, you quickly cursed and got up to lock the door to your bedroom. Smiling apologetically at Jake, you quickly hopped up onto the bed again. “Don’t want to risk the kids walking in on us.”

“It’s my birthday. Tonight, you’re mine. All mine,” Jake agreed, pulling you in for another kiss.

And with assurance that his second vasectomy was successful, you happily started on your birthday gift for him.

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