50calmadeuce

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 17

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

The wedding and the intimate celebration that followed were nothing short of magical, lasting well into the night. As you and Jake swayed together once more beneath the soft glow of string lights, he looked down at you, eyes full of warmth.

“Ready to sneak out of here?” he asked with a grin.

You smiled up at him, heart full. “I thought you’d never ask. When’s your flight?”

“Not till tomorrow evening,” he said, his voice low and reassuring.

He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, the music fading into the background as the world shrank to just the two of you.

“Let’s get out of here then,” you whispered, your fingers tightening slightly at the back of his neck.

Jake took your hand, threading his fingers through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Let me just grab our bag.”

You slipped quietly past the barn, the laughter and clinking glasses still drifting on the breeze behind you, the string lights casting long shadows as you made your way to his truck. A few guests caught your eye and raised knowing glasses in your direction, but no one tried to stop you. They understood.

Jake opened the passenger door and helped you in before tossing the bag into the back seat. He climbed in after, glancing once more toward the glow of the celebration behind you.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded, turning to face him. “More than good.”

He reached over, hand warm against your thigh, and gave it a gentle squeeze before shifting into drive. The truck rumbled to life, pulling away from the lights and music and into the quiet of the Texas night.

The windows were down. The breeze was cool now, laced with honeysuckle and the faint scent of cut hay. Your hair danced around your shoulders, and Jake reached over once more, this time just to hold your hand as he drove.

There wasn’t much to say. You were married. You were his. And for the first time in a long time, the road ahead didn’t feel heavy with questions.

It felt like home.

Here’s a smoother, more vivid version with a touch of anticipation and warmth:

You watched as he guided the truck toward a gate at the edge of one of the fields, the fading light casting golden streaks across the pasture.

Curiosity flickered across your face. “Where are we going?”

He shifted the truck into park and turned to you with a mischievous smile. “It’s a surprise.”

With that, he climbed out, unlatched the gate, and swung it open. After driving through, he stepped out once more to close it behind you, sealing in the mystery of whatever he had planned.

He kept driving through the open field, the tall grass brushing against the sides of the truck, until he found a narrow dirt road winding into the forest. Trees arched overhead, their leaves casting dappled shadows across the hood as he followed the path deeper into the woods.

About ten minutes later, the trees gave way to a small clearing—nestled there, like a secret waiting to be found, was a cozy cabin.

You turned to him, eyes wide with surprise. “Jake? What is this?”

He parked the truck, looking at the cabin and then at you. "This is 6 years of missing you."

Confused, you looked at him.

He grabbed your hands into his. "Remember when we were kids playing in the pond and that one time I asked you if you could have anything you ever wanted, what would it be?"

You looked at him as the memory came flooding back:

You were ten years old, stretched out on the weathered wooden dock that jutted into the pond in the back pasture, your bare legs sun-warmed beneath your shorts and your t-shirt slightly damp from the summer heat. Jake sat at the edge, his feet lazily swaying in the cool water, sending ripples across the glassy surface.

“If you could have anything,” he asked suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence, “what would it be?”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, squinting at him through the sunlight. “What do you mean?”

He turned to glance back at you, a curious look in his eyes. “Exactly what I said. Anything.”

You paused, the breeze tugging gently at your hair, and gave it some real thought.

You paused, your gaze drifting toward the treetops swaying in the breeze. Then, with the quiet certainty only a child could possess, you answered.

“A small cabin in the woods... to get away from everything.”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, as if tucking your words away in a corner of his heart. Neither of you said anything after that. The silence wasn’t awkward—it was peaceful, like the pond, like the moment.

You looked at Jake as the memory slowly faded, the present moment settling around you like a familiar blanket.

“A cabin,” you whispered, eyes searching his. “You remembered that?”

Jake gave you a quiet smile, his voice just as soft. “Of course I did. We were ten. And you meant it.”

You turned your gaze back to the cabin, its simple charm nestled perfectly in the clearing, then looked at Jake with wide, disbelieving eyes.

“You… you built us a cabin?” you asked, your voice catching somewhere between awe and emotion.

Jake nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah. Took a while. But I wanted to give you the one thing you wished for… even back then.”

You reached for the handle, but Jake’s voice stopped you.

“Don’t you dare open that door,” he said with a gentle warning, a playful glint in his eyes as he stepped out of the truck.

He came around to your side and opened it for you, holding out his hand. Without hesitation, you slipped yours into his, and he helped you down, closing the door softly behind you.

The two of you walked slowly toward the cabin, the quiet of the woods wrapping around you like a soft embrace. Just before you reached the porch steps, Jake stopped and turned to you, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I do believe this is where I carry my bride over the threshold,” he said softly, before gently sweeping you into his arms.

You laughed, heart full, as he carried you up the steps and opened the door, the glow of the cabin welcoming you both inside.

He gently set you down, his hands lingering for a moment before he looked deeply into your eyes. “This is ours, Y/N,” he said softly, voice full of promise. “The land, the cabin—everything.”

His fingers reached out, cupping your face with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his palm. “Jake,” you whispered.

He pulled you close, his hands steady and warm against your back. Then his lips found yours—soft at first, then deepening into a kiss full of love and quiet passion, as if every unspoken promise was being sealed between you.

The world outside faded away—the gentle rustle of pine needles, even the distant stars above seemed to hold their breath in that moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his voice was a tender murmur. “Forever, Y/N. No matter where life takes us, this is our home.”

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of those words settle deep inside you. “Forever,” you echoed, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around you like a protective shield against whatever the future might bring.

“But right now,” he said softly, taking your hand, “I want you out of that dress.”

He led you upstairs to a stunning rustic loft bedroom, complete with a full bathroom and an additional bedroom. The warm wood tones and soft lighting made the space feel cozy and inviting.

At the foot of the bed, he gently cupped your face, his eyes locking with yours.

Slowly, you reached up and began unbuttoning his dress whites jacket. When you got to the last button, he eased the jacket off your hands and carefully laid it on the chair in the corner.

You returned to his belt, undoing it with practiced ease. He’d already slipped off his shoes while you put his jacket aside, the quiet rhythm between you both charged with anticipation.

He cupped your face once more, drawing you close as his lips met yours in a kiss that was deep and aching with love. As your hands moved to his waistband, your fingers worked steadily, the soft rustle of fabric filling the quiet space around you.

His pants slipped to the floor, forgotten, as he held you tighter, the warmth of his body pressing into yours, every movement unspoken but understood.

His hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, his touch slow and deliberate as he gently tugged it down. The fabric loosened and slipped from your shoulders, pooling silently at your feet.

He stepped back just enough to take you in, his eyes filled with awe and something deeper—reverence, maybe—as you stood before him in a delicate white lace corset and matching high-waisted panties, ethereal in the soft glow of the loft.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. He reached for you again, slower this time, as if he didn’t want to rush a single second and his fingers traced the curve of your hip, sending a shiver down your spine.

He then reached higher up, his fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, tracing a path along your collarbone before sliding down to cup your breast through the sheer lace. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he thumbed your nipple, feeling it harden beneath the delicate fabric.

As he bent forward, kissing the swell of your breasts exposed by the corset, his other hand trailed down your stomach to hook into the waistband of your panties. With a gently tug, he pulled them down, revealing your neatly trimmed mound. His fingers brushed against your folds, finding you wet and ready for him.

“For someone who claimed to fight being with me again,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with want, “your body’s saying something very different.”

He slid one finger inside you, then another, pumping them slowly as his thumb circled your clit. As he continued to work your pussy with his fingers, you gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer as your hips bucked against his hand. You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure inside you growing with each thrust of his fingers.

"Jake," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice husky. "You like having my fingers inside you?"

"Mmmm, yes." You nodded, your breath hitching as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. "I want you so bad."

Jake growled low in his throat, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. He removed his fingers as he spun you around, backing you to the bed until your legs hit the back of the mattress. He pushed you gently, urging you to sit down. You scooted back, watching as he quickly shed out of the rest of his clothes.

He climbed onto the bed, crawling over you until he was poised above you. His cock was thick and heavy, bobbing slightly with his movements. He leaned down, kissing you deeply as his fingers found their way back between your legs.

You moaned into his mouth, arching your back as he stroked your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck.

"Jake," you whispered urgently, your hips rolling against his hand. "I need you inside me."

With a low groan, he positioned himself between your thighs. His cock teased at the entrance, slick with your arousal. He looked down at you, his green eyes intense and focused. "Is this what you want?"

"Yes!" You begged as you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to pull him into you.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he said, his voice low but steady. “I’m not wearing a condom… Do you want me to?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, giving you space to answer honestly.

You froze, his words settling over you like a wave. Realization bloomed in your chest—this wasn’t just about tonight. It was about everything.

He saw the flicker of hesitation in your eyes and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin with tender patience.

“I want a family with you, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice filled with certainty. “No one else. Just you.”

Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his words—of the life he was offering—pressed against everything you’d been holding back.

You searched his face, looking for any trace of doubt. But there was none. Just love. Steady, unwavering, soul-deep love.

“I…” you started, the emotion thick in your throat. “I want that too.”

He gently reached out, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

“If you’re not ready,” he said quietly, “that’s okay. I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere.”

His voice was steady, but full of unspoken emotion—hope, love, patience—all wrapped up in those few simple words.

You nodded slowly, your throat tight with emotion. “I know,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “That’s what makes this so easy… and so hard.”

Jake leaned in, resting his forehead against yours. “Then we take it one step at a time,” he murmured. “We don’t have to figure it all out tonight.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he caught it with his thumb.

“I’ve been without you before,” he said gently. “I don’t want to be again. I don't think my heart could take that again."

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in the comfort of his scent, the warmth of his arms, the steadiness of his heart.

Jake held you tighter, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other anchored firmly around your waist like he was afraid to let go. His heartbeat thudded steadily against your cheek, grounding you in a way nothing else ever had.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The soft rustle of trees outside the cabin filled the silence, wrapping around you both like a lullaby.

“I’m here, Jake,” you murmured finally, your voice muffled against his skin. “I’m not going anywhere."

Jake exhaled, a shaky breath that seemed to carry years of heartache and hope all at once. His hand tightened gently on your back, as if anchoring himself in the moment—in you.

“Good,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your temple. “Because I don’t ever want to wake up in a world where you’re not beside me.”

With a suddenness that took your breath away, he settled between your legs again. His cock pressed hot and hard against your thigh, his weigh pinning you to the mattress in a way that sent your pulse racing.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured again, his gaze raking over you as if committing every detail to memory.

“Make love to me, Jake,” you whispered, your voice trembling with both certainty and tenderness. “No condom… just pull out,” you added softly, eyes locked with his, trusting him completely.

"Pull out?" Jake repeated, his brow furrowing slightly. "Are you sure? Because if we're doing this without a condom, I want you to know how much this means to me."

“I’m positive,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the emotion welling in your chest. Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears, filled with all the things you hadn’t yet put into words. “I trust you… and I love you, Jake.”

The intensity of his expression shifted, turning molten with heat and desire. "I love you too," he breathed, his voice ragged with emotion. He leans down, kissing you fiercely, his tongue plunging into your mouth as his cock nudged insistently at your entrance. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist, urging him on. Slowly, he pushes into you, inch by delicious inch, stretching you open, filling you completely.

As he fills you completely, you gasp into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he bottoms out inside of you.

"Fuck," he breathes, pulling back to look down at you. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he holds himself still, letting you adjust to his size. "You feel so good."

"The gods, Jake," you moan, arching your back as waves of pleasure ripple through you. You can feel every inch of him inside you, stretched taut around his thick length. "Don't move."

"I won't," he whispers, his voice strained. "Not until you tell me to." He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "I've waited too long for this moment. I'm not rushing it."

You looked into his green eyes, now soft and shining with love, your heart catching in your chest. “What moment would that be?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, the kind of smile that reached all the way to his eyes. “The moment I finally get to make love to you… as my wife,” he said honestly, every word wrapped in meaning.

Your breath caught at the tenderness in his voice, the raw honesty in his words. A blush bloomed across your cheeks, not from shyness, but from the overwhelming intimacy of it all—the way he looked at you like you were everything he’d ever wanted. Everything he’d ever waited for.

You gently reached up, your fingers brushing along his jaw as you cupped his face, your touch full of love and trust.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you whispered, your eyes never leaving his.

With a soft groan, Jake began to move, sliding almost all the way out before pushing back in slowly. He set a steady, deliberate pace, each thrust measured and controlled. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

You could feel every ridge, every vein of his cock as he moved inside you, stoking the fire burning low in your belly.

"You feel amazing," Jake groaned, picking up the pace.

The rhythm of the bed creaked softly beneath you, in sync with each thrust—an intimate soundtrack to your shared moment. Beads of sweat formed along his brow, and your skin glowed in the soft light, the heat between you building with every breath, every touch.

"Harder," you gasp, your nails scoring lines down his back. "Please, Jake."

He obliges, snapping his hips harder, faster, driving into you with abandon.

The room fills with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, punctuated by your cries and his guttural moans.

You wrap your legs tightly around him, using your heels to urge him deeper, wanting all of him inside of you.

The sound of your skin slapping together echoed through the cabin. Jake's strokes became more urgent, his hips pistoning against yours as he drove into you harder and faster. Sweat dripped from his brow onto your chest, mingling with the sheen covering your own flushed skin.

You met each of his thrusts eagerly, your body arching to take him deeper.

With each powerful thrust, Jake's body slammed into yours, the force of his passion echoing through every nerve ending.

You felt yourself losing control, your body tensing as the familiar pressure built within you.

"Jake," you cried out, your voice desperate and needy. "I'm close"

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours. "Let me see you fall apart."

That was all you needed to hear—your body began to tremble, a wave of pleasure rolling through you as you clung to him, breathless and overwhelmed.

His name fell from your lips, and in that moment, nothing else existed but the two of you—tangled together in love, in fire, in forever.

Jake could feel your inner muscles clenching around him, milking his cock as you came undone beneath him. The sight of you, lost in pleasure, was enough to push him over the edge.

You reached up, hands tender against his face, guiding his gaze to yours. Your eyes locked, full of trust and raw emotion. This was your husband—the man you had loved for as long as you could remember. Through all the heartbreak, the time apart, and the pain of losing a child, your heart had never let go of him. Yes, there had been sorrow. But in this moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew the truth: there was no one else. There never had been. It had always been Jake.

“Jake…cum inside me,” you whispered, your voice full of love and longing. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes widened in surprise, but there was no hesitation in his response. With a deep groan, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips moving faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping with skin continued to fill the air, mixing with your groans and his grunts of pleasure.

With a final thrust, Jake buried himself fully inside you, his cock pulsing as he released deep within your welcoming body. The sensation of him coming undone sent another wave of pleasure crashing through you, and you clung to him, riding out the storm together.

For several moments, neither of you moved, both lost in the aftermath of your shared release.

Jake collapsed atop you, his body shaking with exertion and emotion. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the frantic beat of your own. Neither of you spoke; words seemed insufficient at that moment. Instead, you held each other tightly, bodies still joined, breathing in sync as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through you.

Jake rolled off you, pulling you close as he did. You curled into his side, your leg thrown over his hip, your arm draped across his chest. He pressed kisses to your forehead, your temples, your cheeks, your nose, before finally claiming your mouth in a soft, lingering kiss.

His voice was soft, almost reverent as he looked down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, his thumb gently tracing your cheek.

You held his gaze, heart full, and after a moment, you answered.

"Jake," you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. .

He looked down at you, his voice quiet but edged with the weight of everything unspoken. “I need to know why, Y/N,” he said, searching your eyes. “Why now? Why after everything?”

You drew in a breath, steadying yourself as your hand rested over his heart. “Because I finally realized,” you said softly, “that no amount of time or space could make me stop loving you. I kept pretending I was okay… that I didn’t need you. But I do. I always have.”

His jaw tightened slightly, not in anger, but emotion—raw and real—as he leaned in just a little closer. He gazed at you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I love you," he murmured, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip. "More than anything."

You melted into him, your body fitting perfectly against his as his arms wrapped around you, steady and sure. In his embrace, you felt something you hadn’t in a long time—safe, cherished, home.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion as you buried your face against his neck. “I love you too.”

He held you tighter, as if your words sealed something long broken—something that had always waited to be whole again.

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65 @thedonswife13

[50calmadeuce]

Love Takes Flight Teaser

Just a little taste of what's to come in August! I hope you all like it!!

You looked down at your book. "I don’t even know him."

"Yet."

Her voice was softer now, less teasing. You looked up to find her watching you, her expression thoughtful.

"Maybe that’s the point of dinner," she added. "Letting yourself figure it out."

You didn’t say anything—just stared at the page, words blurring slightly as your mind drifted elsewhere. His voice. His smile. The way he looked at you like you were a puzzle he actually wanted to solve.

You glanced at the clock.

"I mean, it’s Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky. Wow. You got so lucky," Riley said, practically swooning.

You looked up from your book, eyebrow raised. "Please, do tell—what’s so important about him?"

Riley leaned in like she was about to spill state secrets.

"Okay, first of all," she whispered, "he’s not just some hotshot flyboy. He’s the hotshot. Top of his class. Super composed. Cold under pressure—which is why they call him Iceman, by the way. Not just because he looks like he walked off the cover of GQ."

You gave her a skeptical look, but she plowed on.

"He’s one of the best pilots at Miramar right now. Everyone knows it. Guys either want to be him or beat him, and girls—well." She gave a pointed look. "Girls want to be with him. But he doesn’t date around. Like, at all. No messy flings. No drama. It’s like he’s allergic to feelings."

"Sounds charming," you said dryly, but your stomach fluttered a little.

"Which is why this is major," Riley said. "He doesn’t chase people. And he definitely doesn’t ask girls out one day after meeting them at a volleyball game."

You opened your mouth to argue—but couldn’t. Because she was right. He hadn’t just asked. He’d called. Sounded like he actually wanted to talk.

[50calmadeuce]

Him, Glen Powell and Gerard Butler

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 16

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

The next day, you stood poised in a gown that blended rustic charm with timeless elegance.

Your mom stood behind you, hands gently resting on your shoulders as she looked at your reflection in the mirror. “Y/N, this dress is gorgeous. This is you.”

You studied yourself in the mirror for a beat, the soft fabric flowing perfectly, the light catching just enough sparkle to make your heart flutter. A smile spread across your face. “I have to agree,” you said softly, your voice filled with something between disbelief and joy.

Your mom’s eyes welled with tears, though she tried to blink them away with a soft laugh. “Jake’s going to be speechless.”

You turned slightly, watching the dress move with you, the hem whispering across the floor. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean… it’s not a courthouse wedding, but it’s not exactly a ballroom, either.”

She shook her head, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Honey, this is your day. It’s supposed to feel like magic. And you—” she paused, smiling through her emotion, “you look like you walked straight out of one of those dreams you used to tell me about when you were little.”

You looked back at your reflection, taking in the fullness of the moment—the dress exuded effortless elegance and bohemian charm. It featured a fitted bodice with a halter neckline that accentuated your shoulders and collarbone, and a deep, yet tasteful, sweetheart-style plunge that added a hint of allure. The bodice is subtly structured and cinched at your natural waist with delicate lace detailing, enhancing the silhouette.

From the waist down, the dress flowed into a full-length A-line skirt made of soft, sheer lace fabric with a beautiful floral pattern. The lace overlay created a dreamy, ethereal effect, with scalloped edging that just grazed the floor. The semi-sheer nature of the lace skirt allowed for graceful movements, while the inner lining provides coverage and comfort.

Your fingers lightly grazed the floral embroidery on the dress, grounding yourself.

“You're really okay with this, Momma?” you asked, looking at her through the mirror

Your mom met your gaze in the mirror, her eyes soft with emotion. She nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear like she used to when you were little.

“I’ve never seen you this sure, sweetheart. Not since you were a little girl running through those pastures with Jake chasing after you.” She smiled gently. “If this is what you want—if he’s what you want—then yes. I’m more than okay with it.”

You smiled, a soft laugh escaping as memories flooded back—dusty afternoons, tangled hair, and Jake always a step behind, grinning like a fool as he chased you through the pastures.

Never in a million years did you think you’d end up marrying the annoying ranch kid from next door—the boy who used to put frogs in your boots and steal your ribbons just to get your attention.

And yet… here you were. Standing in a wedding dress, heart full, and knowing deep down he’d been yours all along.

You turned around, meeting your mother’s eyes before glancing at the saleslady, excitement bubbling up in your chest.

“This is the one,” you said, grinning. “I’ll take it.”

The saleslady smiled warmly. “I’ll get it ready for you.”

You nodded, still beaming, as you stepped down from the platform and made your way into the changing room, your heart racing with a mix of nerves and joy.

“Your father told me you talked to him the other day,” your mom said as she sat down in the chair, her voice calm and patient.

“I did,” you replied simply.

A faint smile tugging at her lips. “I’m proud of you, Y/N. I know how upset you were about everything. But facing him—that took strength.”

A few minutes later, you stepped out of the dressing room, now back in your jeans, cowboy boots, and a gray tank top. Your hair was still up in its ponytail, but there was a new light in your eyes—something steady, like peace settling in.

“I also found out he apologized to Jake,” you said simply, your voice calm but laced with meaning.

Your mom looked up at you, surprise flickering across her face before she nodded slowly. “Good. He needed to. For both of you. You know he loves you, Y/N. Your his little girl."

You looked at her. "I get that, Momma, but why didn't you guys tell me he was sick?"

Your mom’s expression softened, the surprise in her eyes giving way to something heavier—regret, maybe, or sorrow.

She let out a quiet sigh. “Because he didn’t want you to look at him differently. He wanted to hold on to being your strong, stubborn daddy for as long as he could.”

You sat beside her, trying to process the weight of it all. “I get that, Momma… but I wish he’d let me in sooner. I wish you had.”

She reached for your hand, her voice thick with emotion. “We should have. And I’m sorry. We thought we were protecting you—but maybe we were just protecting ourselves.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We also wanted you to finish school.”

“I will,” you said with a soft smile. “Just have to figure out where.”

“Scotland sounds lovely,” she said, a hopeful glint in her eye.

You chuckled. “It does… but it’s a little far from my soon-to-be husband.”

Your mom pulled you into a warm embrace, her arm draping around your shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got a wedding to get ready for.”

You leaned into her hug, your cheek brushing her shoulder, the scent of her perfume bringing back a thousand memories��baking cookies on snow days, late-night talks in the kitchen, her humming as she folded laundry. For just a moment, you let yourself be that little girl again, held safely in your mother’s arms before stepping into a new life.

When you pulled back, there were tears in both your eyes, but they were the good kind—the full-heart kind.

“Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling both heavy and light at once. “Let’s do this.”

She smiled, brushing a thumb across your cheek like she had when you were small. “You’re going to take his breath away.”

You laced your fingers through hers as the two of you stepped out of the store, the hush of the dressing room fading behind you. Outside, the world felt fuller—alive with the soft hum of wedding preparations: the rustle of lace, the scent of fresh flowers, the distant echo of laughter and music.

And just beyond it all, waiting with the same quiet patience he’d shown since the days he chased you through sun-drenched pastures and tied ribbons in your hair, was the boy who had grown into the man you were about to marry. The one who had loved you for what felt like forever—and was ready to call you his bride.

You stood in front of the mirror, hardly recognizing the woman staring back at you—yet knowing deep down she had been there all along, waiting for this very moment.

Your hair had been styled into soft, romantic waves that cascaded down your back in golden layers, each curl catching the light like spun silk. Delicate braids framed either side of your face, gently swept back and secured at the crown, creating an effortless half-up look that felt both elegant and timeless. Nestled into the braids was a shimmering hairpiece—an intricate design of silver leaves, pearls, and crystals that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairytale. It glinted softly, adding a touch of magic without overpowering the natural beauty of your hair.

The dress… oh, the dress. It hugged your body with the lightest touch, the lace straps resting gently against your skin. The bodice was sheer in places, delicately embroidered with floral patterns that traced over your back and down to your waist, like ivy climbing a garden wall. The lace was soft and whisper-thin, allowing glimpses of your skin beneath while still offering the grace of tradition. Every stitch felt like a story, every thread a promise.

You took a slow breath, your fingertips brushing lightly over the fabric, over your heart, where everything felt real—tender, full, and suddenly breathtakingly close. You didn’t need to say it aloud. You knew.

You were ready.

“You look beautiful, Y/N,” your mother said softly, her voice catching just a little as she took in the sight of you in the mirror. Her eyes lingered on the lace details of your dress, the way it fit you so perfectly, as if it had been made just for this day.

You smiled gently, emotions tightening in your throat. “Thank you,” you whispered.

Just then, a knock echoed through the room.

Your mom turned quickly, crossing the floor in a flutter of quiet excitement. “Who is it?” she asked, her hand on the doorknob.

“It’s me,” came the voice from the other side—low, familiar, and unmistakably your father’s.

When your father stepped through the door, it took you a moment to recognize the quiet pride in his eyes behind the familiar lines of his face. He wore a crisp white western-style shirt, the subtle embroidery along the yoke catching the light as he moved. A silver bolo tie with a polished turquoise stone rested at his throat—something he’d only worn once before, at your high school graduation.

His tailored black vest fit snug across his chest, the brass buttons gleaming beneath the soft lighting. His dark denim jeans were freshly pressed, a silver belt buckle polished to a shine—etched with the family ranch brand he’d worn with pride his whole life. On his feet were his best cowboy boots, worn but cared for, the tooled leather telling years of stories in every crease.

A tan felt Stetson rested in his hands, not on his head—a quiet sign of respect as he looked at you. His eyes shimmered just slightly, a mix of emotions swirling behind them: pride, regret, love, and a kind of awe only a father can feel when he sees his little girl all grown up.

“You… you look like your mama did the day I married her,” he said quietly, voice a little rough.

And for a moment, the world stilled—just the two of you, in the quiet before the vows.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Daddy, please don’t say that! Now I’ll have to redo my makeup,” you whispered, stepping closer into his arms as he wrapped you gently, holding you close.

His arms tightened just a bit, as if holding on to that moment could keep time from moving forward. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Always have been.”

You pressed your forehead to his chest, the steady beat of his heart grounding you. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered, voice trembling but full of love.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a soft smile breaking through the bittersweet weight between you. “Jake is not going to know what hit him.”

You smiled at him. "Probably not. He's only know a tomboy all of his life."

He chuckled softly, the sound warm and full of pride. “Well, I reckon that tomboy’s about to become the most stunning bride he’s ever seen.”

You laughed, the tension easing just a little. “Let’s hope he’s ready for all of this.”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled as he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “He better be. Because you’re worth every bit of it.”

He extended his arm, and you gladly took it as your mother handed you the wedding bouquet. “Shall we get this wedding started?” he said with a smile, leading you out of the room.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting the whole field in a warm, golden light. A soft breeze stirred the tall grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers and sweet hay as friends and family gathered on weathered wooden benches, their whispers fading as music—gentle and slow—floated from a single fiddle.

At the edge of the clearing stood a rustic cedar arch, aged to a silver-gray patina and draped in flowing ivory linen. Clusters of roses, baby’s breath, and soft blue thistle clung to its beams, wild but graceful. Beneath it stood Jake, his white dress uniform pristine against the backdrop of golden light. The gleam of his medals caught the sun, but his usually confident expression was nowhere in sight.

Instead, his jaw clenched as he swallowed hard, trying to steady the emotions building in his chest. His eyes—those sharp, knowing green eyes—searched the tree line until the soft shift in the music pulled them toward the worn footpath leading through the open field.

And then he saw you.

You appeared, your arm looped through your father’s, barefoot and radiant. Your white lace dress floated around your calves, the delicate hem brushing the wild grass. Your hair was loosely curled, a few strands pinned back with tiny flowers that matched the wild bouquet in her hand. Sunlight caught her like a halo, and for a breathless moment, Jake forgot how to breathe.

His lips parted slightly. A disbelieving smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, eyes blinking back the sting of tears he hadn't expected. She was everything—every letter, every memory, every dream—and somehow even more beautiful than all of it combined.

You glanced up at him as you walked, your heart pounding. Your father squeezed your hand gently, his own eyes a little misty, but his smile steady with pride. “You ready?” he whispered.

You nodded softly. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

Jake’s gaze didn’t waver. As you stepped closer, the stoic pilot stood still no more—his smile broke fully, filled with wonder and something deeply reverent. He had faced war, flown through storms, and stood in front of commanding officers without flinching. But nothing had ever made his knees feel weaker than the sight of you walking toward him.

And when your father placed your hand into Jake’s, Jake took it as if it were the most sacred thing in the world.

“You look…” he breathed, eyes locked on hers. “You’re beautiful.”

You smiled through tears. “You clean up alright yourself, Lieutenant.”

The two of you laughed quietly, the rest of the world slipping away beneath the soft rustle of the breeze and the wide, endless sky.

As the officiant stepped forward, the gathered guests hushed, the final notes of the fiddle giving way to a silence rich with anticipation. The breeze shifted again, tugging gently at the linen draped across the arch, like even the wind wanted to be part of the moment.

Jake never let go of your hand.

He held it like he’d been waiting years—through silence, heartache, and impossible miles—just to feel it again. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, slow and reverent, like he was memorizing every line of your skin.

You took a breath and glanced up at him, your voice steady as you whispered, “You okay?”

He let out a small, quiet laugh. “I’ve flown combat missions with less adrenaline than I’ve got right now.”

You squeezed his hand in return. “You’ve got this.”

The officiant smiled, eyes soft with the kind of warmth only time and love can bring. “We are gathered here today…”

But Jake only heard pieces. Because the truth was, he was already promising you everything—with his silence, his hands, the unspoken vow in his eyes.

And when it was time—when the vows began—it wasn’t about perfection or poetry. It was about the two of you, standing side by side, beneath a sky the color of every dream you’d ever had.

“I don’t care where we live,” Jake said, his voice catching just once. “Texas, California, Scotland, a damn aircraft carrier—I just want to wake up with you beside me. That’s it. That’s my whole world.”

And when it was your turn, your hand trembled slightly in his, but your words were sure. “I loved you before I ever said it out loud. Before the letters. Before the goodbye. I loved you through every year apart. And I’ll love you through every year to come.”

There wasn’t a dry eye in the field by the time the rings were exchanged.

When the officiant gave the final nod and declared, “You may kiss your bride,” Jake didn’t hesitate. He pulled you close and kissed you like the world had finally given him back something it once took away.

The crowd erupted in cheers, the fiddle picked up a brighter tune, and somewhere behind you, horses neighed softly as if they, too, were celebrating.

But for Jake and for you, there was only this—your hands, your hearts, and a future finally unfolding, golden and wide beneath the open sky.

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinthebreakdowns @untilted-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollander @but-i-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65 @thedonswife13

[50calmadeuce]

Coming in August! The story behind A Love Remembered: Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky

In the summer of 1986, you boarded a one-way flight to California, leaving behind the ruins of a two-year relationship — a betrayal so sharp it shattered your trust in love. He hadn’t just cheated. He married someone else. Quietly. Without a word.

Love was the last thing on your mind when you found yourself on the sun-bleached bleachers at NAS Miramar, lost in the world of Shakespeare, trying to piece yourself back together. That’s when he saw you.

Lieutenant Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky was cocky, cool, and devastatingly handsome — the kind of man who could have anyone. But instead of the crowd of admirers, his eyes locked on the quiet brunette reading amidst the sound of spiking volleyballs and roaring jet engines.

He wasn't supposed to fall for someone like you — not with a career on the line and ghosts from his own past tugging at his heels. You weren’t supposed to let someone in again — not after what happened.

But fate doesn’t follow flight plans.

Could Iceman fight through his past to make room for something real? And could you find the courage to let your heart take off again?

If you want to be tagged in this story, please let me know!

[50calmadeuce]

Back next Wednesday!

Alright everyone. EOL - Chapter 16 will be out next Wednesday! This chapter was a doozie to write, but it will only get better!

[50calmadeuce]

Sorry!!

Sorry all! I honestly haven't had a quiet day to sit down and write, so tomorrow EOL won't be out. Usually I can go outside, but it's been SO hot where I live, I've been in the house and entertaining my kids. Hopefully next week Wednesday! Until then, here's summer Glen hotness:

[50calmadeuce]

Updated Master List

I have updated my Master List to include the updated Piloting Back Into Love story. You will see the Echoes of Love on there, but there is no link yet as I am working on that.

If you have any questions or want to be added to the Tag list for Echoes of Love, please let me know!

[50calmadeuce]

Pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You lost your first husband a few years ago to the war and you weren’t looking to find love again until your best friend, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace begs you to come visit her in Fightertown, U.S.A. While there, you fall for the handsome Jake 'Hangman’ Seresin thinking he’s not going to want all the baggage you carry, but you’re mistaken.

Warnings: Some chapters have sex, so if you’re not 18+, please don’t read them (if you are and don’t see them, go check your settings!). A few chapters also have to do with being held captive and one you are hit in the face. So, if any of those are triggers, please don’t read.

This was the first story I posted here on Tumblr. I went back, reread it and decided to re-edit it. I hope you like it.

Chapter 1: The Introduction(R) Chapter 2: Outside(R) Chapter 3: Beach Day (R) Chapter 4: Walk and Talk (R) Chapter 5: First Date (R) Chapter 6: The Landing (R) Chapter 7: Your Story (R) Chapter 8: Your History (R) Chapter 9: Airport (R) Chapter 10: The Rest of the Week (R) Chapter 11: Tantrum (R) Chapter 12: The Ranch (R) Chapter 13: The Family (R) Chapter 14: The Bedroom (R) Chapter 15: Morning (R) Chapter 16: The Ride (R) Chapter 17: Lunch (R) Chapter 18: Surprise! (R) Chapter 19: Planning (R) Chapter 20: The Wedding (R) Chapter 21: Wedding Dance (R) Chapter 22: The Shower (R) Chapter 23: Your Worth (R) Chapter 24: Packing (R) Chapter 25: Back In Fighter Town (R) Chapter 26: Deployment (R) Chapter 27: Home (R) Chapter 28: Sunday and Dinner (R) Chapter 29: Court (R) Chapter 30: Two Weeks Later (R) Chapter 31: The Doctor's Office (R) Chapter 32: Thanksgiving (R) Chapter 33: Flowers (R) Chapter 34: The Cabin (R) Chapter 35: Scott (R) Chapter 36: Hostage (R) Chapter 37: Going Home (R) Chapter 38: I'm Home (R) Chapter 39: Escape (R) Chapter 40: Found (R) Epilogue

[50calmadeuce]

EOL -Chapter 15

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

After helping Jake with the fence, the two of you returned to his parents’ house. You both kicked off your boots in the mudroom before heading into the kitchen.

Jake’s mom opened the refrigerator and glanced over her shoulder with a knowing smile. “I figured you’d be staying for dinner, Y/N.”

“Sure. Thank you,” you replied with a warm smile.

Jake leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. “I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick.”

“Okay,” you said, stepping farther into the kitchen as he disappeared down the hall.

Jake’s mom pulled a casserole dish from the fridge and set it on the counter. “It’s just leftover chicken and rice, but I figured it’d hit the spot after a long day.”

“It smells amazing,” you said honestly, grateful for the comfort of something familiar and home-cooked.

She gave you a soft smile, then turned to preheat the oven. “You know,” she said after a beat, not looking at you, “I always hoped we’d see you walk through that door again.”

Your heart did a little flip, caught off guard by her gentle honesty.

You leaned against the counter. “I didn’t know if I ever would. Things got… complicated.”

She nodded, her hands busy but her eyes kind when they finally met yours. “They always do. But complicated doesn’t mean over.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers tracing the edge of the countertop. “Full scholarship. It came out of nowhere. One of Nolan’s old professors heard about me and pulled some strings.”

Jake’s mom blinked, clearly impressed. “Well, that’s… incredible. And overwhelming, I imagine.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, voice low. “Texas A&M was always the plan. But Glasgow… it feels like this once-in-a-lifetime kind of opportunity.”

She studied you for a moment, then gently placed the casserole in the oven. “You don’t have to decide tonight.”

You let out a small laugh. “Tell that to my brain.”

She walked over and rested a hand lightly on your arm. “Jake loves you, Y/N. That much is clear. But no matter where you go, what you choose—you have to do it for you. Not for him. Not for anyone else.”

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat. “I know. I just… don’t want to lose him again.”

Mrs. Seresin laughed. "I don't think the ocean could keep you from losing my son. The land sure didn't."

Just then, the floorboards creaked in the hallway and Jake’s voice called out, “What are you two conspiring about in there?”

You smiled as she winked. “Girl talk. None of your business.”

Jake walked into the room, hair still damp, wearing a clean T-shirt and jeans. He took one look at you and grinned. “That casserole doesn’t stand a chance.”

After dinner, Jake walked you out to your truck, the evening air still warm against your skin as the cicadas hummed in the distance.

“So… you leave Friday?” you asked softly, not quite ready to say goodbye.

“Yeah,” he said with a small nod, his hands in his pockets. “Back to work.” He paused briefly. "You're welcome to come with."

You looked up at him, the porch light casting a golden glow across his face. His offer hung in the air between you, tender and uncertain.

“I know,” you said quietly, eyes searching his. “And part of me really wants to.”

Jake stepped closer, his eyes searching yours as he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His fingers lingered for a heartbeat, warm against your skin.

“Then what’s holding you back?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid of the answer.

You exhaled slowly, your gaze dropping to the space between your boots and his. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “Of choosing wrong. Of walking away from something that could change everything. Texas. My family. Glasgow. You.”

Jake nodded slowly, like he understood every unspoken word. “That’s fair,” he said gently. “But if it helps… I’m not asking you to give anything up. I’m asking if we can figure it out—together. Whatever that looks like.”

You looked up at him, your heart aching under the weight of so many paths converging at once. “I just wish there were more of me. Maybe then life wouldn’t feel so complicated.”

Jake grinned. “Darlin’, one of you is more than enough. Trust me.”

You reached up and gently rested your hand over his as he cupped your face, the warmth of his touch grounding you. He leaned in slowly, as if savoring the moment, and when his lips finally met yours, the kiss was deep and tender—full of unspoken promises, love, and everything you'd both been holding back for far too long.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads still resting together, the silence was soft and sacred. Jake’s thumb brushed along your cheekbone, his eyes searching yours like he was memorizing the moment.

“You don’t have to decide tonight,” he whispered. “But wherever you end up—whether it’s College Station or Glasgow or right here—I’ll be in your corner. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, offering a small, grateful smile. “You make it really hard to walk away, Jake Seresin.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the still evening air as he pulled you close. “Good. That means I’m doing something right.”

You lingered there for a long moment, tucked against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft hush of wind in the trees. Time felt suspended—just you, Jake, and the quiet possibility of something lasting.

You took a deep breath and sighed, breathing in Jake’s scent—a warm mix of leather and bourbon that wrapped around you like a memory. You tried to anchor yourself in the moment, to lose yourself in the safety of his presence, if only for a while, and forget the weight of all the decisions waiting just ahead.

Jake gently pulled you off of him, his hands resting lightly on your arms. His eyes held yours, steady and certain. “But, darlin’, I need you to do one more thing for me before you make all those big decisions.”

“What’s that?” you asked softly, a flutter rising in your chest.

He didn’t answer right away—just smiled that familiar, heart-melting smile. Then, slowly, he bent down on one knee, reaching into his pocket. Your breath caught as he pulled out a stunning white and rose gold engagement ring, the princess-cut diamond catching the porch light like fire.

“Y/N Travers,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “You are my world. I lost you once, and I never want to go through that again. I want us to face every decision—every challenge—together, as husband and wife. Will you marry me?”

Your heart thundered in your chest, breath hitching as you stared down at the ring shimmering between his fingers. Time seemed to slow, the night air thick with anticipation and the unspoken hopes between you.

Tears welled in your eyes as your voice trembled, “Jake… I—”

He reached up, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “No pressure, darlin’. Just… whatever your answer is, I’m here. Always.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment settling deep inside you. Then, with a shaky but certain smile, you whispered, “Yes. Yes, Jake. I will marry you.”

A smile broke across his face, bright and full of relief. He slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands warm as he held yours close.

Pulling you up, he wrapped you in a fierce, tender embrace, as if holding you close could keep all the uncertain future at bay.

Under the stars, with the world spinning just a little slower, you knew some things were beautifully clear. And this—this was one of them.

He slowly eased you from his embrace, his hands lingering on your waist as he searched your eyes with a steady, unwavering gaze. "Tomorrow," he said softly, "I’ve got a justice of the peace on speed dial—and I already talked to Dr. Weiss."

His voice was calm but resolute, every word carrying the weight of the future he wanted to build with you.

“Jake, what about my mom, my dad…” you asked, worry creeping into your voice.

“Darlin’,” he said with a small, satisfied smile, “I talked to your dad before I even asked you this.”

Confusion flickered across your face. “But… how? When?”

“He apologized already,” Jake said, his tone warm and just a little smug. “He knew you’d make him.”

He reached for your hand again, grounding you in the moment. “He wants you happy, sweetheart. Just like I do.”

You looked at him, heart fluttering. “When did you plan all this?”

Jake gave you that crooked grin that always made your knees weak. “That night in the back of the truck, when I was holding you. You were falling asleep on my chest, and I told you I’d figure something out.”

He squeezed your hand gently. “I meant every word. I just didn’t want to waste any more time.”

You stared at him, speechless, the ring on your finger catching the light between you like a promise made tangible.

“You talked to my dad…” you repeated, still trying to process it. “Jake, that must’ve taken everything in you.”

He shrugged modestly, but his eyes held something softer—more vulnerable. “It wasn’t easy. But it mattered. You matter.”

Emotion swelled in your chest, thick and overwhelming, and all you could do was whisper, “You really meant it. Every bit of it.”

Jake nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

You stepped closer, your forehead resting against his. “You’re making it really hard to even consider Glasgow, you know.”

He smiled, brushing his thumb along your jaw. “Good. Because I’m not afraid of your dreams. I just want to be part of ‘em.”

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I guess I have a really busy day tomorrow.”

Jake smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “Darlin’, you just need to find a dress by the time the sun sets. The rest? It’s all taken care of.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, a knowing smirk tugging at your lips. “You knew, didn’t you?”

He chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I had a feeling you'd say yes. Call it a gut instinct—or maybe just years of knowing your heart.”

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 14

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

The next morning, you walked into the clinic, still running on too little sleep and too many thoughts.

As you approached the front desk, Nolan looked up from his clipboard, eyes narrowing as he took you in.

“Well, you look like shite this morning,” he said with a half-smirk, his Scottish accent cutting through the quiet.

You snorted, tossing your bag behind the desk and shooting him a look. “Thanks, Doc. Just what every girl wants to hear first thing in the morning.”

Nolan shrugged, unbothered, and went back to scribbling on the chart in his hand. “I call it like I see it. Dark circles, twitchy eye, and that look in your eye like you’ve either solved a moral crisis or haven’t slept since Tuesday.”

You leaned against the counter and rubbed your temples. “Funny.”

He raised an eyebrow.

You took a deep breath and sighed. “Actually… I got into Texas A&M. Vet school.”

Nolan blinked and his face softened. “You’re joking.”

You shook your head slowly.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, then grinned. “You did it.”

“I did,” you said quietly, still not quite believing it.

Nolan walked around the counter, an envelope in his hand. “Then I probably shouldn’t be giving you this,” he said with a grin, holding it out to you.

You set your backpack down on the counter and reached for the envelope. Your fingers paused as you saw the bold lettering on the front:

The University of Glasgow.

You stared at the envelope, then back at Nolan, eyes wide. “Nolan. What did you do?”

Nolan’s grin softened into something almost gentle. "I was talking to an old Professor of mine a few weeks ago and told him about you. He called Texas A&M and he liked what he heard about you."

You carefully opened the envelope, sliding out the letter inside. As your eyes scanned the words, your breath caught—they were offering you a full scholarship.

Your breath caught as you read the words again: full scholarship. Every late night, every sacrifice—it all suddenly felt worth it.

A full ride to the University of Glasgow. The opportunity to chase your dream without the weight of financial worry pressing down on you.

You looked up at Nolan, eyes shining. “I was only offered a partial scholarship from Texas A&M. This… this changes everything.”

Nolan nodded, a rare softness in his expression. “Aye, it does. But it’s your hard work that earned it.”

You folded the letter carefully, your mind racing with possibilities.

“Nolan,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t understand… Jake asked me to move to California. To live with him.”

Nolan’s expression shifted, the usual smirk fading as he looked at you more closely.

“Well,” he said after a pause, “that does complicate things, doesn’t it?”

You nodded slowly, still holding the letter in one hand like it might float away if you let go. “I didn’t even know this was a possibility. And now… it’s everything I’ve worked for. But Jake…”

Nolan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed loosely. “You love him.”

It wasn’t a question.

You didn’t answer right away—just stared at the letter, then back at Nolan, as the weight of both choices pressed down on your shoulders.

Before either of you could say another word, the door to the exam rooms swung open.

“Good morning, Y/N!” Dr. Weiss called out cheerfully, completely unaware of the storm brewing in your head.

You quickly folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope, forcing a smile. “Morning, Dr. Weiss.”

Dr. Weiss didn’t notice the stiffness in your smile or the way Nolan quietly stepped aside, his eyes still on you. He handed you a clipboard without missing a beat. “We’ve got a goat with an abscess in exam two and a limping border collie in four. Think you can handle those before lunch?”

You nodded automatically, tucking the envelope under your arm. “Absolutely.”

“Good,” he said, already turning back down the hall. “Let me know if you need a second set of eyes.”

As the door swung closed behind him, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Nolan gave you a long, searching look but didn’t push.

You turned to head for the exam room, pausing only when he called softly, “Whatever you decide… make sure it’s for you. Not because you feel like you owe someone something. Not because you’re scared. You’ve earned this.”

You offered him a grateful look, the corners of your mouth tugging upward. “Thanks, Nolan.”

Then you squared your shoulders and walked toward exam two—because right now, you could still make decisions one step at a time.

You pulled into the driveway around 6 p.m., the sun hanging low and casting long shadows across the pasture. As you parked your truck, your eyes landed on the round pen—your dad was inside, lunging a horse in steady, practiced circles.

You turned off the engine, the quiet settling heavy around you. After a beat, you stepped out of the truck and made your way toward the pen, dust swirling around your boots with each step.

The rhythmic sound of hooves against packed dirt grew louder as you approached. Your dad didn’t look up right away—he kept his focus on the horse, his movements deliberate, calm. The gelding responded to the slightest cues, changing pace with an ease that came from years of trust between man and animal.

You leaned against the fence, resting your arms on the top rail. “He’s moving nice,” you said, your voice quiet but clear.

Your dad gave a small nod, still watching the horse. “He’s a little stubborn on the left lead, but he’ll come around.”

A beat of silence passed, the only sounds the horse’s breathing and the soft creak of leather.

You cleared your throat. “I got a letter today. From Texas A&M.” You paused. “And another one. From Glasgow.”

That got his attention. He slowed the horse and let him stop, giving him a loose rein to cool down. Then he finally turned to look at you.

His expression was unreadable—calm, maybe, but not indifferent. “That so?”

You nodded. “I got into both. A&M offered a partial scholarship. Glasgow offered a full ride.”

He rubbed a hand along his jaw, taking that in. “Guess you’ve got a big decision to make.”

“I do.” You looked at him for a long moment. “But there’s something else I want to ask first.”

He waited, silent.

“Dad,” you called out, your voice steady but curious. “What’s going on? It seems like… you want me to take over the ranch. Not Cole.”

Your father didn’t answer right away. He clicked to the horse, letting it finish one more circle before gently pulling it to a stop. The silence stretched as he walked toward the fence, patting the horse’s neck.

Finally, he looked at you. “I was diagnosed with ALS a few months ago,” he said quietly, his hand still resting on the horse’s neck.

The world seemed to go still. The steady creak of the leather halter, the rustle of wind through the trees—suddenly muted, distant.

You blinked, trying to process what you’d just heard. “What?” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He nodded slowly. “It’s early. But it’s real. And it’s going to get worse.”

“I’m assuming Mom and Cole know,” you said, your voice tight. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looked down, brushing dust off his jeans before meeting your eyes again. “Because you already had enough on your plate. School. The clinic. Jake coming back. I didn’t want this to be another weight on your shoulders.”

You swallowed hard, a mix of anger and hurt tightening in your chest. “You should’ve told me anyway. I had a right to know.”

“I know,” he said softly. “And I’m sorry. I just… I wasn’t ready to say it out loud. Not to you.”

You reached out, your hand steady despite the whirlwind inside you. As his fingers moved toward yours, you noticed it—the small tremors in his hand. Subtle, but unmistakable.

Your breath caught.

His rough palm finally met yours, and you held on a little tighter than you meant to.

“I see it now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “The shakes.”

He gave a small nod, his jaw tight. “They come and go. For now.”

You stared at your joined hands, the silence between you heavy with everything unspoken.

“What are you going to do, Y/N?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. There are so many choices in front of me.”

“Have you talked to Jake?”

“Not since yesterday,” you replied.

“The ranch will belong to both you and Cole,” he said bluntly.

“I’ll probably stay quiet. I don’t know where I’ll be over the next few years,” you admitted.

Your dad nodded slowly, as if taking in your words and the weight behind them. “Whatever you decide, I’ll be here. Not just as your father, but as your partner in this—however that looks.” He took a deep breath. “I suppose I owe Jake an apology.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the quiet admission. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the man who had once stood like stone between you and the future you’d dreamed of.

“I think that’s the least you owe him,” you said, your voice gentler than your words.

Your dad nodded, gaze drifting toward the setting sun. “I didn’t see the man he was becoming. Only the boy I thought would leave you behind.”

“Daddy, Jake would never do that,” you said gently, trying to reassure him.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

You nodded. “Yeah. He does.”

Your dad paused for a moment before asking, “And do you love him?”

The question settled between you like dust in the golden evening light—simple, quiet, and unbearably heavy.

You swallowed hard, your eyes falling to where your fingers still lightly touched the fence rail. “I never stopped,” you said softly. “Even when I thought he left me. Even when I tried to move on.”

Your dad studied your face, the lines around his eyes deeper now with the truth of his diagnosis, the regrets he’d started to acknowledge.

“I see that now,” he murmured. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry—for more than just the letters.”

You nodded slowly, emotions brimming but held back for the moment. “I know.”

He looked out over the pasture, where the sky had begun to burn orange and violet behind the silhouette of the barn. “Then don’t let me—or anything else—stand in your way again.”

Your chest tightened, and you weren’t sure if it was from relief or heartbreak. Maybe both.

“I’ve got decisions to make,” you said quietly.

He gave you a tired smile. “Then make the ones that let you sleep at night.”

You reached across the fence and wrapped your arms around him, feeling the slight tremor in his back as he hugged you close.

“I will,” you said softly.

After dinner, you drove over to Jake’s parents’ house. As you stepped onto the back porch, the door swung open and his mom appeared.

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” she said cheerfully.

You smiled. “You too, Mrs. Seresin. Is Jake home?”

“He is. He’s out in the back pasture fixing part of the fence—some horses got out,” she said.

You looked at her, already knowing which pasture she meant. She caught your expression and offered a gentle smile.

“It’s really nice to see you, Y/N,” she added reassuringly.

You returned her smile, warmth blooming in your chest despite the tangle of emotions still inside you. “It’s nice to be here,” you said quietly.

She nodded, stepping aside to let you pass. “Go on, then. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

You walked back to your truck, climbed in, and drove over to the gate. After opening it, you continued down the dirt path toward where Jake was working.

In the distance, you spotted Jake near the fenceline, shirt off, his skin glistening with sweat under the evening sun. A tan cowboy hat rested on his head and a toolbox rested at his feet as he worked with focused precision.

You pulled up, cut the engine, and stepped out of the truck.

"Need a hand?" you called out.

“Always,” he said, straightening up and taking off his gloves.

You approached slowly, the silence between you comfortable, expectant.

“So, uh… do you fix fences like this often?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Jake wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, then grinned. "Only when I know I beautiful girl is going to drive out and see me."

You walked over to him, and without hesitation, he pulled you close, your body pressing against the heat of his bare, sweat-dampened chest. Your hands found their place on the firm lines of his torso as he tipped his hat back with one hand and leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that made everything else fade away.

His lips were warm and sure, tasting of sun and salt and something that felt achingly like home. The kiss was unhurried, like he had all the time in the world—and maybe, just maybe, you wanted to give it to him.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath mingling in the humid air between you.

“I missed you today,” he murmured, voice low and rough in a way that made your knees feel a little less steady.

You smiled, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “It’s only been a day.”

“Still,” he said, eyes searching yours. “After everything… I don’t want to take even one more for granted.”

You swallowed hard, heart fluttering as you nodded. “Jake… there’s something I need to tell you.”

His brows drew together slightly, his hand tightening on your waist. “Yeah?”

You took a deep breath, fingers curling against his skin.

“I got in. To Texas A&M’s vet program.”

His eyes lit up instantly. “That’s amazing! Y/N, that’s—”

You held up a hand. “But… I also got a full scholarship to the University of Glasgow.”

Jake stilled.

For a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the grass and the creak of a loose fence board behind you.

“Oh,” he said quietly. “Wow.”

"Yeah. That's what I said too," you replied.

He stepped back just a little—not pulling away, just needing space to think—and ran a hand through his hair beneath the brim of his hat. You could see the swirl of emotions playing across his face: pride, surprise, and something quieter, heavier.

“That’s… incredible,” he said finally, his voice steadier than you expected. “A full ride. To Glasgow. That’s not just an opportunity, that’s a whole damn adventure.”

You nodded slowly, searching his face. “Yeah. It is.”

"Glasgow though? What made you apply there?"

"I didn’t," you replied with a shrug. "Dr. Gentry spoke to one of his former professors there. They made a call to Texas A&M, looked over my work, and... I guess they pulled some strings."

Jake looked at you then, really looked at you—the way he always had, like he was trying to memorize every freckle, every truth behind your eyes. “So… what are you thinking? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know yet,” you admitted. “Texas A&M is safe. Familiar. Close to home, close to you. Glasgow is... a leap.”

Jake’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I meant what I said yesterday, you know. About California. I still want that life with you. But I’m not going to be the reason you turn down something that could change your whole future.”

Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them back. “You wouldn’t be the reason, Jake. You’re the reason I believe I can do something bigger.”

He took your hand again, fingers warm and steady around yours. “Then whatever you choose... we’ll figure it out. Together. Even if that means long-distance. Even if it means waiting.”

You felt your heart squeeze—half aching, half soaring.

“I just need you to promise me one thing,” he added, voice quieter now.

“Anything.”

“Don’t choose what’s easy. Choose what sets your soul on fire.”

You nodded, your fingers tightening around his.

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you—and more than anything, I want to see you succeed. We’ll figure this out together."

You rested your head on his shoulder as he pulled you closer.

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal, @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65

[50calmadeuce]

Thank you!

Thank you to all of those who voted on my Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky story. As soon as I finish the Echoes of Love series, I will work more on that one and let you know when it comes out!

Until then, here's some eye candy:

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 13

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

The sun was already sinking low by the time you left the clinic, casting long golden shadows across the fields. You’d stayed late, helping the other interns clean out stalls in the horse barn facility—mostly because you weren’t ready to go home.

You sighed as the familiar gravel crunch of your parents’ driveway came into view, your hands tightening slightly on the steering wheel. You weren’t sure what waited for you behind that front door, but you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

You drove down the long driveway and pulled around to the back of the house, parking in your usual spot near the stables. The engine clicked to a stop as you cut it off, the quiet settling heavier than usual. You climbed out, dust clinging to your jeans, and headed inside.

After closing the door behind you, you slipped off your boots and padded into the kitchen. The cool air and familiar scent of home-cooked food met you as you opened the fridge.

“There’s a plate in there for you,” your mom’s voice called softly, just as your fingers wrapped around the edge of it.

You stood up, gently closing the fridge door behind you before walking to the microwave. “Thanks,” you said quietly as you placed the plate inside and pressed a few buttons, the soft hum filling the silence.

“I heard you slept in the barn loft last night,” your mother said gently. “You haven’t done that in a long time… not since you were really upset.”

The microwave dinged, and you opened the door to grab the plate. “Yup,” you said simply, walking over to the kitchen table and setting it down with a quiet clink.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked gently, her footsteps soft as she made her way toward you.

“Not particularly,” you replied around a bite of food, avoiding her gaze as you focused on your plate.

"Y/N...he's your father," she said softly.

You slammed the fork down on the table and looked at her. "I know that, Momma! But he had no right!"

Your mother took a step back, startled by the sudden burst of emotion. You could see the hurt flicker in her eyes, but she held her ground, voice calm despite the tension in the room.

“I know he didn’t,” she said quietly. “I’m not saying what he did was right. But I need you to understand—he thought he was protecting you.”

You shook your head, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “Protecting me? From what? From the one person who never gave up on me? From the truth?”

Your mom reached out, but you leaned back in your chair, chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.

“I’m not defending him,” she said again, softer this time. “But he loves you. You know that. He just... doesn’t always know how to show it without making a mess.”

You looked away, jaw clenched. “Well, he succeeded. He made one hell of a mess.”

Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “You know what? I’m not really hungry anymore. It’s been a long day—probably another one tomorrow.”

You turned to your mother, your voice quieter but no less firm. “Jake asked me to move to California with him. Honestly, it’s starting to sound like a better idea every day.”

Her voice followed you, tentative. “But… what about school?”

You shrugged as you walked toward the stairs. “Maybe I’ll quit.”

And with that, you disappeared up the stairs, leaving the kitchen and everything in it behind.

After a quick shower, you settled onto your bed, toweling off your hair as your eyes drifted to the small stack of mail someone had left for you. One envelope stood out—crisp, official-looking, and bearing the Texas A&M logo.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You reached for it with shaky hands, fingers fumbling slightly as you tore the envelope open. You unfolded the letter inside and began to read:

"Dear Y/N Travers,

Congratulations! On behalf of the faculty, staff, and students at Texas A&M’s Doctorate of Veterinary Medicine..."

That was all it took.

You let out a squeal of joy and bounced on the bed, letter still in hand. You had gotten in. You got in to the Veterinary Program at Texas A&M. All the long nights, early mornings, and barn shifts had been worth it.

And then it hit you—Jake.

The excitement that had been bubbling in your chest suddenly deflated, replaced by a thick knot of anxiety. You sat there, the letter still clutched in your hand, your heart pounding for a very different reason now.

Jake had just asked you to move to California with him. A fresh start. A second chance.

You let out a long breath, your shoulders slumping.

How were you going to tell him?

How were you supposed to look him in the eye, after everything, and say yes to one dream when you’d just been handed another?

The letter weighed more now—not just a symbol of your success, but of a choice you hadn’t expected to have to make so soon. You stared at the words again, as if they might change.

But they didn’t.

You had gotten into Texas A&M.

And now... you had to figure out what that meant for not only you, but Jake as well.

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65

[50calmadeuce]

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I needed some Glen this morning🥰

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 12

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

As Jake pulled up to your house, both of you noticed the barn lights still on.

“Who’s out in the barn this late?” Jake asked, narrowing his eyes as you both stared into the night.

You shrugged. “I don’t know,” you said, just as a shadowy figure stepped in front of the barn doors, then disappeared behind them again. “I think it’s my dad.”

Jake got out of the truck, walked around to the passenger side, and opened the door.

You stepped out and straight into his arms.

“Well, tell him I said hi,” he said, leaning in as the two of you shared a soft kiss.

“I will,” you murmured.

“See you tomorrow?”

“I’ll let you know—depends on how busy the clinic gets.”

Jake nodded, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the kind of tenderness that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ll wait to hear from you,” he said quietly, eyes lingering on yours like he didn’t really want to leave just yet.

You offered a small smile. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“’Night, darlin'.”

He gave your hand one last squeeze before releasing it, walking back to the truck with a glance over his shoulder that felt like a promise.

You turned toward the barn, the scent of hay and leather drifting faintly in the air as you approached. The lights spilled out in a warm glow, and as you walked in, your heart thudded a little faster. Part nerves. Part hope. All of it tangled up in the weight of this day.

Your boots scuffed softly against the worn concrete floor. Inside, the familiar hush of the space greeted you—horses shifting in their stalls, the occasional thump of a hoof, the low hum of crickets outside threading through the open loft windows.

“Dad?” you called gently, stepping further in.

You saw the office door open and started walking towards it.

“In the office,” he said, voice low but warm.

Your father sat behind a rustic desk, glasses perched on his nose as he looked over a stack of papers.

“What are you doing up so late, Daddy?” you asked gently.

He looked up from his papers, the corners of his mouth lifting in that tired, familiar way that said more than words ever could.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, taking off his glasses and setting them aside. “Thought I’d get a head start on bills before they start stackin’ higher than the hay in the loft.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed loosely. “I thought Cole was doing that now?”

Your father huffed a soft breath, equal parts pride and stubbornness. “He is. Mostly. But some of this stuff… it’s older than he is. Figured I’d give him a break before he starts complainin’ I’m turning him into a paper pusher.”

You smiled despite yourself, stepping farther into the office and lowering yourself into the old chair across from him. “You’ve got to let him help, Daddy."

“I know,” your dad said, quieter this time. He glanced at the papers, then back at you. “It’s just hard, lettin’ go of the reins.”

You nodded. “I get that, but you're not getting any younger and Cole wants the ranch."

“What about you?”

You shrugged. “I never really gave it much thought.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow, a silent question hanging in the air between you.

“You didn’t think about it?” he asked, his voice a little rougher now, though there was no judgment in it—just curiosity. "You always were the one out there with me, the one who knew the ins and outs."

You shifted slightly in your seat, discomfort prickling at the edges of your thoughts. “I guess… I just thought I’d find my own path. You know, outside of all this.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady but soft, studying you. “I didn’t want to push you into anything, Y/N. But the ranch is part of you, just like it’s part of me. You’ve always been a natural.”

You sighed quietly, glancing out the window at the barn, the pasture stretching beyond it under the dim glow of the yard light. “I know it’s part of me, Dad. But I don’t know if it’s the part I want to hold onto. Not forever, at least.”

The silence that followed felt thick—both comforting and heavy with things you’d never said.

Finally, your father nodded slowly, as though he’d expected that answer in some way. "Was that Jake I saw dropping you off?"

You froze for a moment, caught off guard by the question. Slowly, you turned back to face him, meeting his steady gaze. There was no judgment there—just a father’s quiet curiosity.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice almost a whisper. “It was.”

Your dad’s expression softened, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You two back together?”

You bit your lip, your heart giving a little squeeze at the thought of Jake. “I guess so,” you said, trying to sound casual, though it was anything but. “It’s... complicated.”

Your father chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Complicated seems to be the default setting for you two, huh?”

“It didn’t used to be, until the whole...” Your voice trailed off.

“Baby incident?” he finished for you, his tone gentle but knowing.

You nodded. “Yeah. I guess he wrote me every day, but I never got any of his letters—until last night. They just... showed up on my desk, out of nowhere.”

Your father stiffened, the shift in his posture so slight most wouldn’t have noticed—but you did. His hand hovered over the papers in front of him, no longer reading, no longer pretending to.

You narrowed your eyes slightly. “You wouldn’t know anything about that... would you?”

He didn’t look at you right away. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the silence between you spoke louder than anything he could’ve said.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand across his jaw like he was trying to decide how much to say. “I didn’t read ‘em,” he said quietly. “I want you to know that first.”

You stared at him, your heart thudding. “But you had them.”

He nodded once, eyes still fixed on the cluttered desk. “They started coming a week right after he left. You needed to concentrate on school and the baby. I figured… I figured if you saw them, you’d go runnin’ after him. And you weren’t in a place to do that. Not then.”

Your breath hitched, the room suddenly too quiet.

“You thought you were protecting me?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Hurt threaded through every word.

“I know I was,” he said, finally looking up at you. “You’ were pregnant and then when you lost that baby, Y/N. You were broken. And I didn’t think chasing after a boy with stars in his eyes and the Navy in his blood was gonna fix it.”

You flinched, the truth of it cutting sharper than you expected. “You should’ve let me decide.”

He nodded slowly, guilt clouding his features. “Yeah. I should’ve.”

The weight of his admission settled heavy between you. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. But most of all, you just wanted to breathe through the storm of it.

“And now?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I gave ‘em back, didn’t I?” he said. “Didn’t stop it this time.”

You swallowed hard. “For six years… six years, I thought Jake didn’t care. That he’d just walked away and never looked back.” You stood up and took a deep breath. "I need some air," you said softly.

Your father nodded, not stopping you this time.

You stepped out of the office. The barn felt different now—quieter, more distant, like the walls themselves were holding their breath. You made your way down the aisle between the stalls, letting your hand drift along the smooth wood, grounding yourself with each step.

Skunk lifted his head as you passed, ears pricked forward, eyes following you. You paused in front of his stall, brushing a hand over his glossy black coat.

“Hey, boy,” you murmured. “It’s been a hell of a night, huh?”

He nudged your shoulder gently, and you leaned into him, pressing your forehead against the curve of his neck. His breath was warm, steady, unfazed. Comforting. The kind of presence that didn’t ask anything of you but still offered everything.

You stood there a long moment, just breathing. The scent of hay, leather, and the earthy sweetness of horses filled your lungs, and little by little, the knot in your chest began to loosen.

Eventually, you stepped away and climbed the ladder to the loft, needing space, needing sky.

At the top, you sat down on the old wool blanket someone had left near the window, tucking your knees up to your chest. The stars stretched wide above the trees, scattered across the midnight sky like they didn’t know how to stop shining.

The sounds of the barn settled around you like a lullaby—soft nickers, the rustle of straw, an occasional hoof against wood. It all blended into a kind of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time. The loft offered a vantage point that felt removed from everything: the weight of your father’s silence, the history between you and Jake, the ache of all the what-ifs and almosts.

Up here, no one asked anything of you.

You lay back on the blanket, arms folded behind your head, eyes tracing the rafters above as if they held answers. But they didn’t—not tonight, and maybe not ever.

And that was okay.

Tonight wasn’t about fixing things. It wasn’t about figuring out your next step or untangling the past. It was just about being still. Letting yourself feel, in whatever shape that took.

Outside, the wind moved through the trees, whispering low secrets you didn’t try to interpret. The stars blinked in time with your heartbeat.

At some point, your eyes fluttered closed. The hum of the barn, the scent of the horses, the warmth of the blanket beneath you—it all wrapped around you like a memory you didn’t need to outrun anymore.

And as sleep slowly crept in, the only thing you carried with you was the quiet, steady certainty that come morning, you’d be strong enough to face whatever waited.

Sunlight spilled golden over a wide-open pasture, the wind tugging gently at your hair as Jake laughed beside you, his hand catching yours with that easy, grounding touch you’d missed for so long. He looked younger somehow, not in age, but in the lightness in his eyes. Like the world hadn’t touched him yet. Like this—you—were the only thing in it that mattered.

“Race you to the creek,” he said, grinning, already tugging you forward.

You laughed, breathless, feet barely touching the grass as you chased him, the sound of your joy ringing through the dream like music.

He turned, caught you, spun you into his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere, Y/N,” he whispered against your temple, voice warm, steady. “I’m right here.”

The dream started to shift. The golden light dimmed, the wind carried another voice—deeper, more grounded.

“Y/N.”

You blinked.

“Hey. Y/N, wake up,” a voice said gently—sounding a lot like Cole’s.

You stirred towards the voice, lashes fluttering open to find yourself staring at wooden beams overhead instead of sky. The early morning sun filtered weakly through the loft slats. Your neck ached from the way you’d curled into the blanket.

“Ugh. It’s you,” you muttered, reaching for the coffee mug in his hand and taking it without hesitation.

Cole stood at the top of the ladder, one brow raised, staring in disbelief as you took a sip of what was clearly his coffee.

“That was my coffee,” he said as you waved a dismissive hand at him.

“Did you sleep up here all night?” he asked, his voice softer than you expected—though the smirk on his face gave away the brotherly concern underneath.

Cole climbed the rest of the way up into the loft, brushing sawdust off his jeans as he came to crouch beside you. “You know, normal people sleep in beds. With pillows. And back support.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. The mug was warm in your hands, grounding in a different way than the dream had been. “Yeah, well... normal people don’t get ambushed by old letters and emotional landmines.”

Cole was quiet for a beat—just long enough to let the weight of it settle. “So, about that…” he began, running a hand through his hair after tipping back his cowboy hat.

You turned to him slowly, eyes wide. “You knew?!”

Cole grimaced like a kid caught sneaking cookies before dinner. “Yeah… dad came and talked to me after Mom told us you were pregnant.”

Your breath hitched. That wasn't the answer you were expecting.

“Dad always liked Jake,” you began quietly.

“But he sure wasn’t thrilled that he got his baby girl pregnant,” Cole finished, his tone wry but laced with understanding.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle in. “Yeah. I know how he is. He’s protective, but I never expected him to handle it this way. I thought he’d be more… supportive.”

Cole’s expression softened, and he shrugged. “Dad’s never been the ‘talk it out’ kind of guy. He shows he cares in his own way. He’s not perfect, but he doesn’t want you hurting.”

“So hiding letters for six years from the man I loved—and then thought just left—was his way of making sure I didn’t get hurt?” you asked, the disbelief thick in your voice.

Cole’s face fell, a flicker of regret crossing his features. “I don’t think he meant to hurt you, Y/N. He just… he doesn’t know how to fix things. So he thought if he kept the letters from you, it’d be easier to move on. Easier for you.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in. Easier for me. The irony was almost suffocating. Every second you spent thinking you were alone, every day you spent mourning a love that felt like it had vanished without a trace—it was all part of his twisted way of protecting you.

“That’s not his call to make, Cole,” you said, your voice shaking slightly. “It wasn’t his choice. It was mine. My heart. My life. I needed to know the truth, not some half-assed decision he made.”

Cole nodded slowly, reaching for his coffee mug, a quiet understanding in his eyes. “I get it. And I’m not defending Dad—he messed up. But it’s not like he wanted to hurt you. It’s just... how he is.”

He took a sip of his coffee, now that he had it back, then glanced at his watch. “By the way, it’s 8 o’clock. What time do you have to be at the clinic?”

“Shit!” you exclaimed, tossing the blanket off and rushing toward the ladder. “You ass! You could’ve told me!”

With a grin, Cole replied, “But this is so much better!” and took another sip of his coffee.

After a quick shower, a change of clothes, and grabbing breakfast on the way out the door, you arrived at work thirty minutes late. You apologized profusely to Dr. Weiss, swearing it wouldn’t happen again.

Your punishment? Lab duty for the day.

The moment the words left Dr. Weiss’s mouth, you sighed, shoulders sagging with reluctant acceptance.

“Lab duty,” he repeated with a raised brow, his clipped tone suggesting he was already two sips into his third cup of coffee and not in the mood for excuses. “Since you’ve got so much on your mind, I figured a day with the samples and microscopes might help you refocus.”

You offered a sheepish nod, clutching your coffee like a lifeline. “Yes, sir.”

The lab was quiet—sterile, save for the faint hum of machines and the soft shuffling of papers. You slipped on a coat, pulled your hair back, and settled in with a tray of various animal blood samples from the last couple of days.

It wasn’t glamorous, but it was peaceful.

Almost meditative.

And maybe that was what you needed—something to steady your hands and still your mind after the storm of the last few days.

You fell into a rhythm before lunch. Label. Record. Slide. Focus. Each task drew you further from the emotional weight pressing at the edges of your thoughts. Here, in the measured world of cells and data, there was no room for heartbreak, letters, or complicated dreams about Jake.

Somewhere between the horse samples and the cat batch, you caught yourself humming—an old tune your mom used to play in the kitchen on Sunday mornings. It filled the space gently, curling into the sterile corners of the lab like sunlight slipping through blinds.

You almost felt okay.

Then the door creaked open.

You didn’t look up, assuming it was one of the interns come to fetch data or samples.

“Hey. Heard you were buried in test tubes.”

Your heart stuttered.

You blinked up.

Jake.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, surprise lacing your voice.

“Cole called,” he explained, stepping closer. “Said you had a rough night… and a rougher morning.”

“I bet he did,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice.

Jake chuckled. “Dr. Weiss said you’re allowed a lunch break.”

You glanced at your watch, surprised. “It’s already one?”

“Yeah, you workaholic,” Jake teased. “Come on, let’s go eat outside at the picnic table by the horses.”

You stood up, slipping off your lab coat and draping it over the back of the chair. “Okay.” Without another word, you followed him out of the building and into the fresh air.

The moment you stepped outside, the heavy Texas heat wrapped around you like a thick blanket, the kind that pressed against your skin and made each breath feel a little slower. It was just past one o’clock, and the sun blazed high in the sky, casting sharp shadows across the pasture. Waves of heat shimmered off the ground, and the air carried that familiar dry, sunbaked scent of dust and hay.

Near the fence, the horses stood still in the shade of the oak trees, swishing their tails lazily, their movements slow and deliberate under the weight of the midday heat. You paused, letting the quiet rhythm of the pasture settle over you, grounding you in a moment that was both sweltering and strangely peaceful.

Jake led you toward the picnic table under the large oak tree near the corral. As you sat down, the world felt a little quieter, more manageable.

He opened the brown bag and pulled out two burgers and fries.

“I got your favorite. Bacon cheeseburger and fries,” he said, handing them to you with a smile.

You started unwrapping the sandwich, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thank you.”

Jake took a seat across from you, stretching his legs out with a low groan before unwrapping his own burger. For a while, the two of you ate in companionable silence, the kind that didn’t demand conversation but left room for it, if it came.

You took a bite, letting the familiar taste settle on your tongue—salty, smoky, and just greasy enough to remind you of late nights and roadside diners. It was comfort food, and right now, you needed comfort more than anything.

Jake glanced at you between bites, his gaze lingering a beat too long before he spoke. “You look tired,” he said gently. “Like… more than just ‘didn’t sleep well’ tired.”

“That’s because I fell asleep in the loft,” you said, taking another bite of your burger.

Surprise flickered across his face. “The loft? Why didn’t you go in the house? You usually only sleep out there when…” His voice trailed off as realization settled in. You were upset with someone in the house.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “After you left, I went into the stable to see who was in there. It was my dad.” You paused, meeting Jake’s eyes. “He was the one who took your letters.”

Jake froze, his burger halfway to his mouth, as your words hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

“He what?” His voice was low—rougher than you expected—but there was no mistaking the hurt or the anger tightening his jaw. "But why?"

You shrugged, eyes drifting away. “I don’t know. I was too upset to ask him any more questions.” You paused, then added with a bitter little laugh, “Cole said it was to protect me. I guess Dad wasn’t too thrilled his baby girl got pregnant by some Navy flyboy.”

Jake let out a slow breath, setting his burger down untouched now. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze fixed on the worn wood grain like it could offer some kind of answer.

“Damn,” he muttered. “I knew he didn’t like me much back then, but I never thought he’d… do something like that.”

You didn’t respond right away. The distant sound of hooves shifting in the paddock, the buzz of insects in the tall grass, even the occasional creak of the old oak overhead—it all filled the silence like a soft blanket over an open wound.

“I spent years thinking you just left,” you said finally, the words slow and deliberate. “No goodbye. No explanation. Just—gone.”

You looked at Jake, and something flickered in his gaze—soft, cautious. Like hope trying to edge past grief.

“Come back to California with me,” he said, his voice soft but sure, eyes locked on yours.

Shock flashed across your face. “Are you serious?” you asked, barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loud might make the offer vanish.

Jake nodded, his gaze steady. “I’ve never been more serious.”

“I’d have to think about it. I mean, I’ve got this internship…” Your voice trailed off, uncertainty knotting in your chest.

“After the internship,” he said gently, like he already knew the weight of what he was asking. “I’m not saying drop everything. I’m saying… when the dust settles, when you’ve done what you came here to do—come with me.”

“I don’t even know what I’d do in California,” you murmured.

Jake gave a small shrug, a smile ghosting the corner of his mouth. “Whatever you want. Just… be with me. I don't want to lose you again, Y/N.”

His voice didn’t crack, but it softened in a way that made your breath catch. He wasn’t making promises he couldn’t keep. He was offering a place—a life—where you weren’t apart anymore.

You stared out toward the paddock, where the horses stood in the sun-dappled shade. The same sky stretched over both Texas and California. But Jake… Jake was only in one of those places.

You swallowed hard. “You mean it?”

Jake leaned forward, his voice low and unwavering. “With everything I’ve got.”

Jake reached across the table—not all the way, just enough that his hand rested palm-up, an offering. Not asking. Just there.

You stared at it for a moment. Then slowly, carefully, you set your hand in his.

“I’ll think about it,” you replied, your voice soft but sincere.

Jake gave a small nod, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “That’s all I’m asking.”

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @fantasyfootballchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 11

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

Jake’s fingers curled around the waistband of your jeans, his eyes never leaving yours. In one fluid motion, he tugged them down and off, the denim sliding over your skin with a whisper of sound. The air was cooler now, prickling along your exposed skin, but his touch—his presence—kept you warm.

He paused for a moment, just looking at you, like he was trying to memorize the way you looked in the moonlight, the way you felt being his again.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion.

You now lay back on the pile of blankets, the soft fabric cradling your bare skin, nothing left but a pair of white cotton panties hugging your hips. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting a silvery glow across your body as you looked up at him—vulnerable, open, but more sure than you’d felt in years.

Jake stood there for a moment, just taking you in. His gaze was reverent, hungry, but full of something deeper—something that had never left, even through all the time and distance.

You watched from your place on the blankets as he stood at the end of the truck bed, fingers moving to unbuckle his belt with deliberate ease. The quiet clink of the buckle echoed softly under the stars, followed by the sound of denim sliding down his legs. He stepped out of his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a pair of dark boxers that hugged his frame just right.

For a moment, he just stood there, looking at you—his chest rising and falling slowly, eyes tracing every inch of you like he was memorizing a dream he’d finally caught. The moonlight kissed the edges of his body, casting shadows across the sharp lines of his muscles, making him look both wild and beautiful.

You let your gaze roam over him, just as he was doing to you. The way his arms tensed as he moved, each muscle etched into steel, was enough to make your breath hitch.

This wasn’t the Jake you remembered from six years ago.

Back then, he was all boyish charm wrapped in the lean muscle of a farm kid—sun-tanned and reckless, always with dirt on his jeans and mischief in his smile. But now…

Now he stood before you a man.

Broader. Stronger. More grounded. The years had carved out his body with purpose—thicker arms, a defined chest, a back built from years of keeping fit. The playful sparkle in his eyes was still there, but it lived beside something deeper now. Something steadier. Wiser. A quiet storm that had weathered things you’d only imagined.

Jake climbed onto the bed of the pickup truck with slow, deliberate movements, the soft rustle of blankets beneath him the only sound aside from the chirping crickets and the gentle lapping of water from the nearby pond.

He knelt at your feet and gently took one of your ankles in his hand, brushing his lips against your skin. The first kiss landed just above your ankle, featherlight, sending a shiver straight through you. He continued upward, his mouth following the curve of your calf, then the inside of your knee—each kiss more intentional than the last.

His hands caressed your legs as he moved, one steadying you, the other stroking along your thigh as if he were memorizing every inch. Each press of his lips was slow and reverent, like he was retracing a map he’d once known by heart.

When he reached the soft skin of your inner thigh, he paused, his breath warm against you, eyes meeting yours. There was heat in his gaze, yes, but also a tenderness that made your heart ache.

Your pulse quickened as you anticipated his next move. Your fingers gripped the edge of the blanket below, your knuckles turning white.

With a look that promised sinful delights, Jake leaned forward and pressed his lips to your panties. He breathed you in deeply, scenting your arousal, feeling it emanate from within you.

His tongue traced the edge of the cotton barrier, the heat of his breath intensifying your ache. Teeth nipped at the delicate material, ever-so-gently grazing the sensitive flesh beneath.

With a swift, decisive moment, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and away until they were gone, leaving you completely exposed.

Jake didn't linger, his desire too urgent. He slid his fingers along your sex, feeling the dampness, spreading it upwards toward your clit. Your hips lifted slightly, greedy for his touch again.

With a guttural groan, Jake dipped his head between your thighs and began to lick and suck at your pussy. Your hands found their way into his hair, nails raking lightly across his scalp, as his tongue was velvet fire against you, igniting a trail of sparks wherever it went.

Your moans filled the night air, a symphony of pleasure to the crisp sounds of nature surrounding you, as he lapped at your juices, drinking you down greedily.

Your grip tightened in his hair, pushing you further into your submission. His kisses began to change. They became longer, deeper, more intense, reflecting the ferocity building deep within himself.

"Jake," you begged, his name half-whisper, half-sigh, carried away in the gentle night summer wind.

Your request came out on a desperate exhale, his name barely a sigh escaping your swollen lips. His own desperation grew, fueled by the taste of you and the little mewls that escaped your throat.

"Who do you belong to, Y/N?" he rasped, lifting his head to look at your body's reaction after gliding his tongue up your wet slit.

He watched as your body arched up, seeking him out instinctively. The words fell from your lips easily, freely - raw and honest. "You. I belong to you Jake," you gasped.

His breath caught as your voice whispered his name, a sound that stirred something deep within him. Without a word, he stepped down from the truck bed just long enough to shed the last of his clothing, hearing the tear of the condom wrapper and then climbed back in with quiet urgency. Now hovering above you, his body radiated warmth as he leaned down, his eyes searching yours with something tender, something unspoken. Years of distance melted away in that moment, leaving only the two of you—raw, real, and finally ready to find your way back.

Your eyes locked with his, the air between you heavy with emotion and unspoken truths. You gave a single, steady nod. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation, with surrender, with something that had always been meant to be.

He held your gaze a moment longer—long enough to make sure you meant it—before his lips found yours in a kiss that was both reverent and full of longing. As your bodies aligned, you opened to him, and he moved with aching tenderness, joining you in a way that felt like both a beginning and a homecoming.

Jake growled against your mouth as he sank deep within you, stretching you wide. You gasped into the kiss, fingernails digging into his muscular shoulders as you body adjusted to accommodate him fully.

His cock filled you to the hilt, thick and hot, hitting every pleasurable spot within. You moaned into his mouth, your tongues dancing in sync.

Your walls quivered around him, tightening to welcome him fully. Your hips rocked in time with his thrusts as he surged inside you, claiming you once again. He filled you so entirely, yet it still wasn't enough.

A groan ripped through him at the sensation of being enveloped by you. The breath left your lungs in a heated rush as he buried himself balls-deep, your pleasure mixing with his.

He pulled back slightly, only to surge into you once again, his length sinking into your molten core.

As Jake began to set a rhythm, your hips rose to meet his every thrust, desperate for friction, eager to take him deeper.

You wrapped your legs around him, heels locking against his firm ass, urging him to plunge harder. His pelvis ground into yours, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit with each thrust.

Jake's tempo increased, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Your breath hitched as his pace became almost frantic, and you knew he was close. "Come for me, baby," he growled into your ear.

As he commanded, your body responded, tighter and hotter around him. Your fingers dug into his muscled back, clawing desperately at the same moment you felt your climax approaching.

A gasp tore through your chest as you came undone, your nails biting into his flesh as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Your body convulsed around him, milking his thickness as your body surrendered completely.

Jake's control faltered at the sight of you unraveling beneath him, your body clenching with tremors and your whimpers filling the night air.

As he watched your pleasure peak, he couldn't hold back any longer. Your name rumbled like thunder in his chest as he plunged into you hard, one last time, releasing everything he'd held back all these years.

You held him close as the moment crested, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. His grip on you tightened as he buried his face against your shoulder, a ragged breath escaping his lips as he gave in completely. You felt the subtle shudder of release, the culmination of years of distance, longing, and love finally closing the space between you.

As Jake's body relaxed, he rolled onto his side, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. For awhile, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the occasional rustle of leaves overhead.

He moved with care, discarding the condom before returning to you, the warmth of his skin easing against yours as he settled beside you on the blankets. You let your fingers wander across the hard lines of his abdomen, your touch featherlight, almost reverent, as if you were trying to memorize every inch of him again.

Jake caught your hand mid-trace, pressing a kiss to your fingertips before resting your joined hands on his chest, right over his heart.

His heart beat steady beneath your palm, a quiet rhythm that felt more intimate than words ever could. You watched his face—his lashes casting soft shadows on his cheeks, the faint sheen of sweat at his temple, the way his mouth curved with the ghost of a smile he wasn’t quite ready to share out loud.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice husky, low like the night air between you.

You nodded, your forehead nudging against his shoulder. “Yeah… more than okay.”

Jake let out a soft breath, like the answer unraveled a knot he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto. His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, the motion absent-minded but full of meaning.

“I kept thinking,” he murmured, “if I ever got the chance to be here with you again… I’d make damn sure I didn’t waste it.”

Your eyes lifted to his, heart tightening all over again.

“Well, you sure didn’t,” you said quietly.

Jake’s eyes searched yours for a moment, something tender flickering in their depths. Like he was making sure you meant it—really meant it.

Then that familiar half-smile tugged at his lips, the one that always undid you a little. “Good,” he said, voice low and warm.

“So… is that it, then? You go back to California, and I just return to my classes like none of this ever happened?” you ask, your head resting on his chest and your voice quieter than you expected.

Jake’s hand tightened ever so slightly where it rested against your back, his fingers pressing into your shirt like he could anchor himself there—like he didn’t want to let go.

“No,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

You felt the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek, the steady thrum of his heartbeat matching the ache building in your own.

Jake was quiet for a moment longer, like he was weighing every word before he spoke again.

“I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out,” he continued, his voice steady but soft.

You finally lifted your head to look at him, your eyes searching his face for anything—doubt, hesitation—but there was none. Just him. Raw and real and finally there.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking him in the eyes, hoping he understood everything behind those two words.

“For what, darlin’?” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes searched yours.

“For ruining this moment,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, afraid to meet his gaze.

Jake let out a soft breath, one that sounded almost like a laugh—but not one of mockery. It was tender, filled with something closer to disbelief that you could think you’d ruined anything.

“Hey,” he said gently, reaching up to guide your chin so your eyes would meet his. “You didn’t ruin a damn thing.”

His thumb swept softly across your cheek, his touch grounding you. “You’re here. I’m here. And we’re talking about us. That’s more than we’ve done in the last six years, Y/N.”

You blinked back the sting behind your eyes, the emotion rising like a tide you hadn’t braced for.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he added, his voice rougher now, more sure. “We’re allowed to feel this—whatever this is. It’s messy, sure… but it’s real.”

He kissed your forehead, his breath warm and steady. “Don’t hide from me, sweetheart. Not now,” he murmured, drawing you closer into the safety of his arms.

You closed your eyes, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, letting the warmth of his embrace melt the tension that had been coiling in your chest. It felt like a shield, a kind of protection you hadn’t even known you’d been craving until this very moment. You let your body relax against his, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his chest, as if trying to memorize the sensation of being held by him again.

And in the quiet of the moment, a question lingered at the edge of your thoughts—where was this going to go?

Tags: @tylers-twister-gal @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @fantasyfootallchampion @khouse712 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath @jackiehollanderr @but-I-write-so-I-must-count @pokemonlover65

[50calmadeuce]

Love Takes Flight

In 1986, you hopped a flight to California to start your life over after finding out your boyfriend of two years had been cheating on you and married a girl you knew nothing about behind your back.

You weren't even thinking about opening your heart again until you met handsome Naval Aviator Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky.

Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky could have any girl in the world until he saw the brunette sitting on the bleachers reading Shakespeare while he was playing volleyball with fellow Naval Aviators.

Would his past prevent him from falling in love? And would she be able to open her heart?