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Strangers (you were sunshine, he was midnight rain) - Prologue

Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Note: very loosely follows the plot of the Bear

Warnings: none

When you first clock him from across the bar, you immediately know he’s your out. Quiet, brooding, stoic and unassuming. Most importantly, he looks like he’s having just a shit of a time as you, it could be a win for you both, you contemplate.

As you watch him awkwardly leave his group and make a beeline for the bar, you know this is your chance. You spare one last glance towards your best friend’s work group you’d begrudgingly agreed to come out with and follow suit. The three vodka lime soda’s you’d consumed within the past two hours giving you a newfound confidence. As he waits for his drink you decide to make your move.

‘I think you should come home with me’ you say outright with convincing bravado. The man looks taken aback by your boldness and checks around to confirm that you were talking to him.

He shoots you a confused and questioning look as you notice a light flush lace his cheeks. ‘Or at least pretend to’ you shrug continuing ‘You see the thing is, I need an out. I’m having a horrendous time here and by the looks of things, you might be too’.

You make a subtle once-over of the man’s appearance while he considers your proposition, an unreadable expression on his face. To say you were intrigued would be an understatement. His arms were laced with tattoos, hair curls untamed, and eyes a piercing blue.

‘You can’t just up and leave?’ He then says confused, looking around the bar. Although he had a fair point, you were an adult and could leave events you don’t feel like being at, but at the risk of hurting your best friend’s feelings, you couldn’t bare it.

‘You see that girl over there?’ You say, pointing in the direction of your best friend, Clare. He follows your gaze as you continue ‘She would be deeply offended if she knew I did not want to be at this event. However, she would be very much excited for me if I were to leave with a guy’.

The poor man looks as though he is truly contemplating your offer. After a minute or so he says ‘Ahh shit why not’ sighing. ‘Let me give this lot the heads up’ he nods towards the group he’s with. You smile at him and move to tell Clare. You blush as you hear her squeal and look painfully obviously in his direction.

‘Okay okay, bye’ you say engulfing her in a quick hug, wishing for the embarrassing interaction to end. The two of you move from your respective groups to the door and the man opens the door, motioning you through.

#the bear #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto

[itwasalladreamsblog]

I Bet You've Never (2)

Notes: lowkey enemies to.... with Rafe x Y/N (Kook but the good kind)

Warnings: smut but tame

Notes: thank you so much for taking the time to read part one x

11th Grade/Junior Year

Before tonight, you had never been in Rafe Cameron's room. Or held a civil conversation with him for longer than 5 seconds. And, yet you were quite certain that you were about to find yourself in a very compromising position with that same man, in that very room.

'Fuck Y/N' Rafe whispers into your collarbone as he laces it with kisses. Both of you work in sync, an unexplainable understanding passing between the two of you as you make your way inside his room off of the balcony.

You pause briefly, proximity is only broken to discard of a few layers of clothing. Rafe pushes you onto his bed with a certain gentleness, hovering himself over you.

His hands quickly find themselves on the button of your pants, he pauses and meets your eyes. 'May I?' he says with sincerity and tenderness you had never encountered before. 'Please' you say with a hint of desperation in your tone, bucking your hips up to him in encouragement.

Rafe removes your pants and underwear swiftly as he peppers kisses from your naval downwards. It doesn't take long for you to reach your high after he buries his head between your legs and then Rafe is back enveloping your lips with his own.

He pulls back briefly, pulls a condom out of his drawer, and then looks at you, cupping his hand on your jaw. His eyes pierce your own, the tenderness from previously no longer there, a seriousness now lacing them. 'Do you want to do this?' Rafe asks.

'Yes,' you reply, pulling his mouth down to meet yours again.

.....

You lay motionless and breathless next to Rafe, relishing in the last 30 minutes that had transpired. It was different from your past encounters. It was gentle and kind, but sexy and fun.

Your moment of bliss is quickly broken by the buzz of your phone. You sit up, covering yourself with the sheet. 'Kie?' you say as you pick up the phone. 'Y/N if you're at Sarah's you need to go right now, I'll meet you at yours and explain' Kie replies with a sense of urgency.

'Fuck sorry, I have to go' you say as you stand understanding the importance of Kie's tone, gathering your clothes. Rafe meets your eye with a look of deflation that you hadn't seen on him before and you realise that your sudden leaving may appear insulting to him.

'Sorry, that was amazing. Thank you. Kie needs me' you wink at him. He chuckles at you and shakes his head. You quickly shoot Sarah a text to let her know that you're leaving and apologise as you hadn't been able to find her for the past few hours.

'Will you be okay? Dealing with this?' you ask in reference to the house of idiotic teenagers awaiting. 'You're all good Y/N, thanks' Rafe replies gently. You smile at him, savouring the shift in energy between you two.

Just as you turn to leave, checking that the hallway is clear of any possible prying eyes, you hear him speak again 'Hey, was I better than all of those tourons at least?' Rafe says, smirking at you from his bed.

You shoot him another wink and a smile and he returns the gesture before you begin the short walk home.

.....

The walk involves a series of replays in your mind from the previous hour as you smile at yourself.

The house looks exactly the same as when you left it, dark, empty, and lifeless. Many people your age had envy over your lifestyle, often left at home alone by your parents when they travelled overseas for business for long periods of time.

It made you mature and self-sufficient for your age, and it was comforting to know that they trusted you. But it was also lonely, and they were very uninvolved in your life, maybe calling a few times a month if you were lucky or if you were running low on funds.

You find Kie waiting for you in your room, just as she had said.

'Kie, where the fuck have you been? I was worried about you all night' you ask with concern. You look closely at her and notice her eyes, red and puffy, as though she'd been crying. 'Are you okay?' you ask, instantly taking her hand in yours.

Kie looks at you with guilty eyes 'I called the cops on Sarah's party'.

'What?'.

[itwasalladreamsblog]

The Works

Top Gun Maverick

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin:

Fight or Flight?

Outerbanks

Rafe Cameron:

I Bet You've Never

[itwasalladreamsblog]

I Bet You've Never

Notes: enemies to.... with Rafe x Y/N (Kook but the good kind)

Warnings: the lead-up to some upcoming smut, swearing, and mentions of alcohol/joints/smoking

11th Grade/Junior Year

The line to the upstairs bathroom had been exceptionally long.

Although you knew the whereabouts of the downstairs bathrooms at Tannyhill, his ensuite bedroom was right there, taunting you and your full bladder. Yes, it was his sister's birthday, but it was a high school party. He was at college. He wouldn't be here.

Without sparing it another thought, you quickly slipped inside the dark room, briefly taking in your surroundings as you located the ensuite, deeming the room clear of any human other presence.

You had been to Tannyhill more times than you could count throughout the course of your life, but never inside Rafe’s room. It was never very welcoming, and nor was he.

A selfish part of you had been relieved when Rafe had left for college. It was comforting to know that you would be able to come over and see Sarah without the constant cold shoulder from him, or the locking of himself in his room for the duration of your visit. Although you'd never taken it personally, attributing this behavior to his usual demeanor and distaste for the human population.

Closing the bathroom door behind you, you send Kiara yet another text about her lack of presence at your best friend's birthday party, your growing concern beginning to gnaw at your conscious.

The faint sound of the bedroom door opening and closing causes you to turn off the running tap abruptly. 'Shit' you whisper to yourself, praying for the intruder to be anyone but him.

You crack the ensuite door open gently, hoping to make a quick and undetected beeline for the exit. 'Can I help you?' Rafe Cameron's irritated voice carries through the stark quiet of the bedroom as you halt in your tracks.

'Fuck' you whisper to yourself, barely audible. You follow the trail of his voice, clocking his presence on the balcony, broad back facing towards you. You find yourself briefly mesmerized as you watch him take a draw of his joint before you pull yourself back to reality.

'Hey look I'm sorry I just-' your words stumble as you begin to make your way in his direction, trying to diffuse the situation and plead for your life. He cuts you off before the rest of your explanation can be delivered, 'Don't care'. 'Look Jesus if you just let me-' you begin again, slight annoyance at his dismissive nature developing in your own tone.

'You think that just because you're one of Sarah's friends you can just use my shit?' Rafe scoffs, cutting your sentence off once again. You raise your hands and roll your eyes in a sign of acceptance that your excuses would not be tolerated by Rafe Cameron.

His voice halts you as you turn to leave, basking in your defeat and slight shame about the situation. 'Kids' he scoffs, eyeing the drunk teenagers and their antics in the pool below. You follow his gaze. Although unsure if the comment was directed toward you or just the emptiness of the night air, you return a reply 'Aren't you getting a little old for high school parties anyway?' a certain unprecedented wittiness taking over your tone.

'College break' Rafe replies, sounding almost annoyed at being required to explain his presence and justify his appearance at a high school party. 'Someone has to keep these idiots in check' he continues, nodding his head towards the infinite amount of bodies filling the backyard.

'I guess that someone would be you hey? It's not like you ever had fun during your high school parties' you say, sarcasm dripping from your tone, relishing a little in the longest conversation you'd ever held with Rafe. 'Well, we can't all be as well-behaved as you' Rafe counters, facing you now, eyes raking up your frame nonchalantly.

Your mouth drops open slightly in surprise at the subtle and unintentional confession that Rafe Cameron had paid any attention to you over the course of your life in figure 8.

He was right however, your teenage years had been somewhat tame to the naked eye. Never over-indulging yourself in alcohol, and never writing yourself off for a wretched hangover the next day. You did however appease your teenage curiosity and push boundaries in the comfort of your sexuality, enjoying a good share of intimate rendezvous' with men over the years, information only privy to your closest friends.

Rafe catches your look of surprise at his comment 'You're pretty highly strung Y/N, Jesus even Kelce could deduce that' he says quickly rolling his eyes, defending the momentary lapse of his uncaring and blase' exterior.

'Huhh' you say, smiling to yourself in amusement at everyone's rigid opinion of you.

'I bet you've never even touched a cigarette' Rafe says, teasing you. He turns to face you now, the slight trace of a smile lacing his features.

'No, but I have touched other things' you retort, facing him with a wink. It's Rafe's turn to display a look of surprise, an unexpected comment from your unassuming personality. He composes himself quickly though, chuckling and shaking his head 'It's always the quiet ones' he says, while now holding the joint out to you.

You eye the cigarette, unsure and hesitant of your next move. Rafe follows your gaze. 'Here, let's start off slow then' Rafe sighs, retracting the joint 'You sound like you're corrupted enough at the moment without any influence from me' he raises his eyebrows at you, smirking.

Rafe brings the joint to his own lips, inhaling. He holds the smoke and then moves his head down to meet yours, drawing your bodies impossibly close together. You open your mouth, ready in understanding, your body warming as your eyes meet his in the close capacity.

Shocks rivet through you as Rafe blows the smoke into your mouth, lips now only mere centimeters apart. You hold the smoke for a few seconds as you watch Rafe eye's flicker vigorously from your eyes to your lips, an unfamiliar tension palpable in the air.

You turn back to face him after you exhale, neither of you having made an effort to move from your close proximity. 'What did you think?' Rafe whispers, eyes fixed on your lips. You bite your lip, deliberating the consequences of your current desires.

You let your thirst for him in this moment win as you close the space between you, elated when Rafe receives and returns the kiss with equal desperation, possible repercussions long forgotten.

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fire with Fire (part 5)

Aemond Targaryen x Strong (Velaryon)

Note: thank you for reading 🥺

Warning: none I think?

Darya awoke in the morrow weary, a lack of sleep having found her overnight. As the handmaid prepared Darya for the day, she could hardly contain the nerves she held for Lucery's and her family, almost as though they were pouring out of her.

The tension in the hall was palpable when Darya entered, trailing behind her mother in a child-like manner. The division in the room was clear, the pure Targaryen family to one side, and the blended-bastard-ridden family to the other.

Vaemond Valeryon stood in the center of it all, eyeing Lucery's as though he were the prey for his starving stomach. What had really unsettled Darya however, was the vision of Otto Hightower seated on the iron throne in place of King Viserys. It worried her immensely, for her family already had enough enemies in this court, without the added bias of a Hightower in place on the throne.

Darya snuck a glance in the direction of Aemond Targaryen, trying to read his reception of her. Yet as she looked at him, he avoided her gaze, as though he could sense her eyes piercing through him.

As Otto Hightower began to introduce the congregation, Darya had completely lost focus. Her mind now trying to conclude whether Aemond was now avoiding her entirely as a result of Lucery's damage to him, a thought she had previously entertained. She was also unsure as to why his avoidance of her appeared to be somewhat bothersome.

Darya was quickly brought back into reality as she witnessed King Viserys enter the hall. A sense of relief overcame Darya, as she knew the high regard in which the King held his daughter may allow Lucery's to have a chance in the maintenance of his inheritance.

As Vaemond made his claim, Darya was taken aback by his public agenda. Although the questioning of herself and her sibling's legitimacy was not something unfamiliar to her, the speculation in front of the court, if articulated in a certain way, may have dire consequences for Vaemond.

The meeting came to a head when Vaemond did just that, explicitly calling the children bastards and Darya's mother a whore for the whole court to hear. Despite her shock, Darya held herself with equanimity when Daemon took the liberty of executing Vaemond for his accusations.

When Darya shifted her gaze from the sight of a dismembered Vaemond, she was surprised to find Aemond finally looking at her, his face stoic and unreadable, which appeared to be his usual expression from the few instances Darya had witnessed. However, she could have sworn she saw a slight shift in his expression as his eye locked with hers, yet he had looked away as quickly as Darya had seen it, making her question whether she had actually ever seen it at all.

Taglist:

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Fire with Fire (part 4)

Aemond Targaryen x Strong (Velaryon)

Note: thank you for reading 🥺

Warning: none I think?

No sooner than her eyes had met with his one, he was gone from the courtyard. Although Darya didn’t allow herself to dwell on this, knowing Aemond's abrupt reaction was likely a common one attributed to his hatred for her and her parentage.

As Lucery's and Jacaery's rejoined her at the top of the stairs, Darya wasted no time in reprimanding her siblings. 'You both must be more careful than this. Seeking out unnecessary interactions with these people is foolish and reckless. We need not complicate our relationships with our estranged family further, especially you Lucery's' Darya reinforced.

Jacaery's rolled his eyes at Darya, clearly not receiving a lecture from his younger sister well. Lucery's however, gave Darya an affirming look as the three made their way to their quarters of the Keep.

As Darya sat by the fire with Jacaery's as the sun began to fall, her nerves began to fester in anticipation for the gathering in the morrow. 'Darya, again' Jacaery's frustrated voice pulling her from her thoughts. 'Nyke desire cake syt dinner' Darya replied. Jacaery's pondered for a moment 'I wish for cake at dinner'. 'Close, brother. I desire cake for dinner' Darya answered, clarifying.

'This lacks in fairness. I wish for High Valyrian to come to me with such ease' Jacaery's exasperated, defeated. 'Jace, High Valyrian is complex and it insults me to discover that you do not believe I labored incessantly to achieve such proficiency' Darya combated defensively.

'Children please' Rhaenyra sighed from a seat by the window overlooking the vastness of King's Landing. Darya stood and moved to stand by her mother. 'Are you quite well mother?' Darya asked as she took Rhaenyra's hand in her own.

'As well as can be expected in these times, sweet child' her mother replied, her other hand holding her swollen stomach and her expression feigning a smile.

'Come. Let us all meet our slumber, for the trials of the morrow shall be trying' Rhaenyra said standing, arms spread guiding her children to their chambers.

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

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Fire with Fire (part 3)

Aemond Targaryen x Strong (Velaryon)

Note: if anyone bothers to read this story, thank you 🥺

Warning: none I think?

Darya was startled to find her family's arrival in King’s Landing met with only the stationed guards of the Red Keep. A stark reminder of the ever-present divide within the family.

Rhaenyra and Daemon had found it important that they visit the ill King Visery’s upon arrival and introduced to him their new offspring, thus leaving the older children to navigate the walls of the castle and its occupants alone.

Darya remained gripping tightly onto Joffrey’s hand as they trailed behind their brothers, before advising Joffrey to attend to the quarters with their servant as she and his older brothers re-familiarised themselves with the Keep.

As they exited outside to what appeared to be the training quarters of the castle, Darya's eyes were instantly drawn to a familiar brown mop of hair and set of armor which she recalled being uncanny to the appearance of that of Ser Criston.

As her brothers continued towards the stairs, Darya spoke up in concern, knowing the tense history between her mother and Ser Criston ‘Do we deem this wise brothers?’ she expressed.

‘Sister, you may remain here if you wish’ Jacaery’s replied nonchalantly as he and Lucery’s continued forward. Darya raised an eyebrow toward him but accepted her defeat, knowing keeping her distance was her usual mechanism of safety.

Darya’s eyes took in the rest of the surroundings from the top of the stairs, including now that of the opponent of Ser Criston, who she gauged had to be one of her uncles given the unmistakable silver blonde hair that they were sporting. Darya usually had no interest in combat, yet she found herself unusually compelled in her observation of this battle and the gathered crowd that cheered as Ser Criston was defeated.

'Well done my prince. You will be winning tourneys in no time' Ser Criston. 'I don't give a shit about tourneys' the man replied.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ the voice allured as he clocked onto the presence of Darya's siblings. His tone was laced with jest. Darya's body stiffened as she caught sight of the eye patch, the man's identity before her now confirmed by that detail alone. Before Darya's brothers could conjure a suitable response, the gates to the yard opened.

Darya was overcome with uneasiness as she observed Vaemond Velaryon emerge through the gates. She observed as Vaemond's eyes immediately bore into her brothers, the reason he had made this journey in the first instance. Darya ceased breathing as she watched his eyes survey the yard before him. Before long his gaze found hers where she resided at the top of the stairs, her place of hiding now exposed.

Despite her internal anxiety, Darya did not allow herself to shy away from his beading eyes and met his gaze with an equally transfixing glare. Yet Darya felt her composure begin to cower as she sensed the eyes of another having found her presence, Aemond Targaryen.

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

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Fire with Fire (part 2)

Aemond Targaryen x Strong (Velaryon)

Note: thank you all for reading part 1 🥺

Warning: none I think?

The strong smell of the sea was now foreign to Darya. Her senses used to the heavy scent of her dragon, Dayne, and the heavy aroma of the winds of the sky which they frequented.

Unfortunately, her mother had forbidden Darya to make the journey to King's Landing on dragonback, stating that traveling on dragon may convey an unwanted statement of power towards the Targaryens and Hightowers, and that traveling as a family would display a sense of unity.

As Darya now sat by the waves on the rocky ship, she attempted to engage herself in a book of philosophy, trying to distract from the possibility of the impending events that were tormenting her mind.

Darya had always found herself invested in books of history and philosophy. Throughout her childhood spent in King's Landing, Darya would never be found watching her brothers and uncles train in combat or accompanying Haelena in embroidery with the Septa, but often hidden away with a book.

Today, however, a lack of focus troubled her. Despite her best efforts, she was afflicted with the dread of seeing her estranged family. Darya's approach to her uncles in her childhood had been mostly through distance. Haelena had always been kind to her and they got along seamlessly, but Darya was often intimidated by her uncles and their evident distaste for her origins.

Although, when she pondered, Darya and Aemond had been the most similar as children. They both valued duty above almost all else, knowing it was their role to uphold their families and their honor. They shared a love for the histories of their ancestors and the philosophies of the world. Darya however, shied away at interactions with him or Aegon growing up, knowing most would end in jest at her expense.

Darya had not been present at the event that had cost Aemond his eye, and although she had not seen him since that period, she had an inkling that he may have held harsh feelings towards her just by association with Lucery's, and this worried her.

When the ship finally anchored, Darya was concerned that her legs may have forgotten how to perform on land. The energy in the carriage was tangible. As the carriage parted for the Red Keep, Darya observed her mother, one hand resting on her pregnant belly, and the other secured in the hand of Daemon.

Darya had been granted a great fortune in that she was yet to be betrothed, however, Darya had been raised to not fear or shy away from this duty, and thus she knew when this occasion did arrive, she would face it bravely.

As the carriage brought to a halt, Darya gripped the hand of the young prince Joffery as they exited the carriage into King's Landing, whether the support was more for him or her she was not sure.

Taglist:

@caspianobsessed

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fire with Fire (part 1)

Aemond Targaryen x Strong (Velaryon)

Note: well this HOTD bandwagon has been jumped on 😫 bare with me for this introduction, plenty of actual Aemond content to come.

Warning: none I think?

As Darya stared back at her reflection in the speckled obsidian, she studied her features, contemplating how they had been altered by time away from King's Landing.

Her long brown hair and piercing eyes, the intense features which had bound her to many questions and torment over the years of her youth, remained her most captivating.

A knock on the door disrupted her self-observation. As warm hands snaked over her shoulders, Darya met her mother's gaze in the reflection.

'Are you ready, sweet girl?' Rhaenyra asked softly, her tone warm, reflecting the love she held for her children. Darya met her question with a tight-lipped smile in response.

It perplexed Darya how her mother maintained such composure when confronting the ordeal that was forcing her family back to King's Landing and away from their home. The question of the birthright legitimacy of her sibling, and in turn, herself.

Darya was no fool and although she chastised herself to admit it, her 'Uncle' Vaemond was warranted in his question of the validity of Darya's brother, Lucerys' parentage. But it mattered not to her. Old Valyria's blood still coursed through their veins, and Dayra held no blame or hate in her heart for her mother's choices and decisions.

It was a harsh world to have been born a woman. Rhaenyra had made every effort to make that known to Darya, to prepare her for the cruel world she had been brought into.

Dayra's skin had grown thick through the constant berating of her heritage throughout her childhood. The only sadness that plagued her surrounding her parentage, was the lack of opportunity she had been given to spend time with her legitimate father prior to his passing.

However, she gave thanks to the figure that was Laenor Velaryon, who had ever treated her and her siblings as if they were of his own flesh throughout her childhood. And now to Daemon also, who had grown as a constant in her life.

As Darya began to follow her mother, who was encouraging them to make haste, she turned back and took in her surroundings once more, troubled by a confronting sensation enveloping her, that she may never return.

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 11)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick's Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: sorry it has been a minute!!!!! I had not forgotten about this story but life has been hectic.

Warnings: language

The following morning, you wake up with a limited memory, but a prominent and piercing headache. A certain recollection startles you awake quickly. Vaguely, you can recall kissing Hangman. You have no idea how it happened, or what happened afterwards, but you are very certain it happened, replaying in your mind like a nightmare.

‘Duke come on. You’re better than this. Penny had to bring you home last night and I had to carry you inside’ he tells you, frustration evident in his tone. You find slight relief in knowing that you hadn’t gone home with Hangman and that the kiss had obviously not gone any further than just that, a kiss, but your dad’s disappointment in you is prominent.

His gaze on you then softens, and he takes your hand in his as you sit by him at the kitchen table, nursing a copious cup of caffeine. ‘Look, I know it’s been hard on you, losing Ice. It’s been hard on me too. But this isn’t like you. You have to be careful. And now you don’t even have me in your camp at base either’ he sighs. ‘What?’ you say, confused by his statement. ‘Cyclone let me go from the mission’ your father replies disappointingly.

You regretfully make your way to the base that morning, now also bitter about your dad’s sudden displacement from the mission. As you enter the locker room, you work as quickly as possible to avoid an unwanted interaction with Hangman, unwilling to yet face the repercussions from your behaviour last night. But it felt like the universe had other plans for you.

‘Ouch. You look rough’ Hangman enters as if on cue and cocks his eyebrow, clicking his tongue as he takes in your appearance, eyes trailing up and down your body. His tone lacks it’s usual sarcasm though, but you can’t decifer why. ‘Thanks’ you say, grimly, annoyed. You finish zipping up your suit and decide to get the unavoidable over with while it was just the two of you.

You approach Hangman on the other side of the locker room ‘Look about last night…’ you begin. He cuts you off before you can continue any further, and his change in demeanour startles you, unlike anything you’ve ever seen displayed from him before. ‘Duke I have no idea what your problem is. You kissed me last night. It’s not my fault that I showed you one act of kindness and now suddenly you’re in love with me. Back off’ he says, practically seething. Hangman slams his locker shut and flees the room, not even sparing another glance your way.

You’re not sure how he reacted to the kiss in the moment last night, but you assume given his current display, that he had rejected you. But in truth, you didn’t want to know. Everything else that transpired from last night could remain a mystery as far as you were now concerned, likely not a memory you would wish to relive.

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[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 10)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick's Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: this one was fun hehe

Warnings: language and sexual tension

The service was formal and respectful. You ensured your composure had borne the same appearance despite feeling everything but. Stationed between Hangman and Phoenix, you kept your eyes fixed, refusing to meet his gaze.

You’d lost count of the number of drinks that had been consumed since you’d arrived at the Hard Deck following the ceremony. It didn’t matter. All that mattered were that they were numbing the feeling gnawing at your insides. Logic had no strength to reason with you under the circumstance.

‘Duke, you good there?’ Hangman speaks, spotting you as he enters. ‘Better now that you’re here!' you squeal as you see him, grinning with a little too much-drunk enthusiasm, a stark contrast from your recent reception of him. Your harsh feelings towards him are now forgotten in your state. Hangman sits beside you on the deck, he sighs, expecting to have been met with your now-familiar cold shoulder instead of your current charade ‘Jesus Christ Duke, what’re you doing?’. ‘What’re you doing?’ you reply mockingly. 

'Duke come on, you're better than this. Shouldn't you be with your dad or something?' Hangman says. 'But then I wouldn't be here with you!' you reply.

He continues to speak but you have disassociated with his words. You stare at him and take him in in your inebriated state. Hangman looks good. He always looked good, but usually, your sense of morale and his personality outweighed any attractiveness you could ever see in him. But not now, not with your judgment clouded by your intoxication. ‘What?’ he says, noting you are no longer paying attention.

You say nothing as you push yourself forward, your lips smashing onto his. He’s pulls away briefly, taken aback by your action, but only momentarily before the two of you are moving in sync together, the energy in the air electric. You move to pull yourself into his lap, the kiss not breaking.

The moment is charged. Years of angst and tension coming to a head. It’s invigorating. Invigorating, and fleeting. Hangman pulls away again, turning away from you this time. ‘Fuck Duke, we can’t. I can’t’ Hangman says. ‘Why not?’ you say pouting pulling yourself off of his lap. ‘No, not like this. You’re drunk and you’re trying to fill a void. I can’t. I won’t’ he replies with his head in his hands. You say nothing, trying to process what he is saying in your current state. 

‘You have no idea how badly I want you, but not like this’ he follows, not looking at you. Your comprehension of this situation is limited at best, all you can currently register is that he does not want you, and everything else he adds is just noise. You turn away, basking in your shame. 

Hangman stands, you refuse to look at him as he opens the door and enters the Hard Deck.

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@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@harper1666

@shanimallina87

@chaoticgay13

@adaydreamaway08

@bobafett-tea

@gingerbreadandpaper

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@theprettytragic

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 9)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick's Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: agh apologies again that this chapter is also so short! It's a bit of a filler chapter again! More content coming this week and I promise it's going to be great hehe.

Warnings: language

You make a point of ignoring Hangman following his stint in the briefing, making every effort to avoid him during training, apart from few a interactions that are required out of absolute duty. Your level of engagement with him had regressed further than ever before, now you couldn’t even bring yourself to tolerate his remarks, or even play with your usual fire with fire. 

As you prepare to leave base for the night after a draining day of exercises, you begin change out of your flight suit in the locker room.

‘Duke’. His sarcastic voice rings out. You say nothing, ignoring him now accustomed to you. ‘Duke’ he repeats. You then relent in his persistence, ‘What do you want? Come to make some sexual remark? Or better yet, a quip about someone’s deceased parent?’ you seethe in response. ‘Duke, what’s your deal?’ Hangman follows as he walks over to you. ‘If you don’t know then that’s even more concerning you spit back as you pick up your bag, slamming your locker shut in a desperate effort to make a quick escape. 

‘Duke’ your dad's voice rings out through the locker room, taking you by surprise. As you turn to look at him, you take in his grim appearance, an immediate sense of knowing washing over you. 

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@harper1666

@shanimallina87

@chaoticgay13

@adaydreamaway08

@bobafett-tea

@gingerbreadandpaper

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 8)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick's Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: sorry that this is so short! It's a bit of a filler chapter I apologise! More content coming this week hehe.

Warnings: language

Just before you can make contact with his arrogant smirk, Bob snakes his arms tightly around your waist, holding you back as you fight against him. ‘What the fuck did you just say!’ you yell at Hangman. ‘Dude, calm down!’ Phoenix says, placing a hand on your shoulder as well as securing one firmly on Roosters. ‘Duke! Rooster!’ your dad yells at the both of you, shooting you a look of warning, as though the two of you are in the wrong in this scenario.

‘You’re all dismissed’ your dad calls to the group, discomfit and anger evident in his tone. Bob lets you down when you finally cease struggling against him. You waste no time in making a haste exit from the briefing, eager to escape the hostile atmosphere Hangman had created with only the ease of a few sentences. 

By the time Monday morning had rolled around, you had begun to get a little nervous, anticipating how Hangman might take to you after your last encounter. However, your concerns about his reception of you had just dissipated quickly when Hangman’s familiar persona re-emerged, with no concern for his regard for you remaining. 

Now you find yourself questioning whether anything he had displayed to you a few days ago had been genuine at all, or whether you were now the victim of some joke he would tell to his friends. You were naive to think that you were playing anything other than his game and ignorant to have let your guard down so quickly.

Taglist (so sorry I forgot to add this!):

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@harper1666

@shanimallina87

@chaoticgay13

@adaydreamaway08

@bobafett-tea

@gingerbreadandpaper

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 7)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick's Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: please be kind this was briefly briefly proofread 🥴

Warnings: none I think?

You wake up confused, taking in your dark surroundings. You force yourself out of an unfamiliar bed, having no concept of what day or time it is. As you stumble around trying to locate your phone or a light, a knock sounds on the door, your commotion having been heard from the outside. ‘Come in’ you say. ‘Hey’ Hangman says gently, opening the door. ‘Hey’ you reply. ‘How do you feel? You look a lot better’ he says. ‘I feel a lot better, thanks to you’ you shoot him a small smile. He returns your smile. ‘How long have I been asleep?’ You ask, genuinely unsure. ‘About 15 hours. Also don’t panic, it’s Saturday’ he replies hands raised, assuring you that you haven’t missed any training. ‘Shit, sorry’ you say grimacing.

’Don’t be. I didn’t want to wake you when I got back. Just moved you somewhere more comfortable. You finally looked peaceful’. You suddenly become very aware of the fact you are standing in Hangman’s room, in nothing but an oversized shirt, his shirt. But given the events that had transpired over the past 24 hours, you felt like you and Hangman had crossed many thresholds and that this was pretty low on the list of concerns. ‘Where did you sleep?’ you ask. ‘Just on the lounge’ he replies nonchalantly, as though this was the only obvious answer to your question. You stand awkwardly, trying to navigate this new small shift of energy between the two of you.

‘Want me to drop you home?’ he asks. ‘Thank you' you reply nodding. Hangman walks away momentarily. When he returns, he hands you your freshly washed clothes. In a pile, he has placed the shorts you borrowed from him. ‘These are your shorts’ you say, taking them from the pile and handing them back to him. ‘Keep them’ he says. ‘Where did they come from anyway?’ you ask, curiously. ‘I was wearing them’ he says casually again, as though taking the plainclothes off his back and giving them to you was the only sensible course of action in that scenario. He closes the bedroom door and gives you privacy to change.

Once dressed, you make your way back out, clad in a cleaner version of your outfit from yesterday, shorts still gaping at the waist. ‘Would you like me to wash this and bring it back to you?’ you ask Hangman, holding out the shirt you had slept in overnight. ‘Keep that too. I know it’s not really your style but it’s of more use to you than me’ he insists naturally. ‘Thank you, for it all' you say to Hangman genuinely. ‘No thanks necessary’ he replies. The drive back to your house is oddly comfortable, a comfortable silence. Hangman grabs your flight bag out of the back when you arrive back at your home. ‘You better not be thinking of thanking me again’ he smiles at you as he hands you your bag. You laugh, knowing you exactly intended to thank him again. ‘Never. I wouldn’t want it to go to your head. It’s already pretty big up there’ you laugh. He laughs too.

As you begin to walk up to the front door, you turn on your heel and look back. ‘Hangman? I’m glad it was you’ you smile and nod your head at him. And it was the truth. Despite everything, you were glad it was him that had come to your aid yesterday. At your most vulnerable, when you had expected him to mock or laugh, he had surprised you the most. Hangman smiles at you and returns the gesture with a nod of his own.

Once inside, you close the door, leaning back against it. You exhale, the events of the last 24 hours taking it out of you. ‘Hey. You okay?’ your dad asks, approaching. He plants a kiss on your forehead. ‘I was worried about you’. ‘Yeah, I’m good now, thank you’ you reply. You’re grateful that he doesn’t push you by asking any more questions about what had happened. The two of you had a good relationship, most of the time he understood your needs without even needing words.

The rest of the weekend passes by quietly. You respond to some concerned text messages from Phoenix and Rooster, assuring them you are okay. You mainly remain in bed, recuperating for the week ahead.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@harper1666

[itwasalladreamsblog]

So sorry it’s been a massive week! Part 7 hopefully coming tomorrow!!! 🤍🤍

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Fight or Flight? (chapter 6)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick’s Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Warnings: this chapter is a bit of a different one. We delve into a somewhat stigmatized but very relevant topic here, being that of periods/menstruation. I understand this can be a confronting or uncomfortable subject for some, or maybe even a triggering one. Please only read ahead if you feel comfortable doing so, and it is more than okay if you don't!! There will be mentions and descriptions of blood, nausea, pain, etc.

I had a bit of a debate as to whether or not to include this chapter in this story, but I feel as though it is a sensitive and important topic that we are continuing to work on to normalise in today's society.

Another note: soft Hangman! Don't worry, he isn't here to stay... for now...

Another another note: sincere apologies for this essay-length chapter!

The nausea and pain consume you quickly. Your control over your plane lessens rapidly as you use every ounce of self-restraint to not hurl up your entire insides in the box. In the air with Phoenix and Bob, Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy as your wingmen, and your dad on the attack, Rooster calls out to you over the coms ‘Duke, you good?’. 

‘Permission to land’ you breathe out shakily, silently begging your dad to let you down. ‘Permission granted. Duke you okay?’ your dad replies. You don’t respond, making an immediate beeline for the tarmac, so quickly that your dad has to remind you to pull up as you try to land too steeply. 

You barely make it out of the box before you hastily cast off your helmet and sink to the ground, throwing up all over the tarmac. Once you catch your breath, you force yourself up, staggering your way inside to the locker room. You make it into a compartment just in time before another wave of sickness slams you. ‘Can someone grounded go and check on her?’ your dad calls out to the team over the coms. 

When you’re finally certain there’s nothing further your body can possibly heave, you carefully sit up, silently reprimanding yourself for not having seen this coming. 

Assessing the damage, the blood has travelled everywhere. Your flight suit is visibly stained. Crying was usually an unprecedented emotion for you, but at this moment, it was the only reaction appropriate to exhibit. You feel absolutely terrible, but even worse so, you had embarrassed yourself in front of your entire squadron, displayed for all to see on the tarmac. 

‘Duke, you in here?’ Hangman’s voice radiates through the locker room. You sigh quietly to yourself, thinking about how many short straws you’d drawn today, Hangman coming to your aid out of all possible alternatives.

Hoping he will accept your response and leave, you struggle to control your voice as you whisper out a strained 'Yep'. To your dismay, you hear Hangman follow the faint trail of your voice. He stops by the door that you currently hide behind. A gentle knock sounds at the door. ‘What’s going on?’ Hangman asks, ‘You okay?’ he continues. 

Your vulnerability soon gives in as it becomes clear that he will not be fooled by your response. ‘I.. um…’ your voice officially breaking, ‘I um.. I got.. I got blood on my uniform’ you say, choking the words out. ‘Oh’ Hangman speaks as he puts two and two together. ‘You don’t need to be ashamed, or embarrassed’ he continues. ‘I can help you, if you’d like’ Hangman says after a few moments, an odd sense of tenderness detectable in his voice. Although surprised by his sentiment, you say nothing as you just open the compartment door, throwing both pride and caution to the wind in your acceptance of the aid, knowing your level of desperation.

Your face is tear-stained, and your braided hairline sweaty, flight suit hanging around your waist. He takes you in. The blood on your hands, and largely visible on your suit. Hangman stands there, looking at you for a few moments, silently. 

You half expect him to laugh, or to affirm that his offer was out of jest, but he doesn’t. ’Do you have spare clothes?’ Hangman asks softly, his eyes wide with a concern you’d never seen before. You shake your head, biting your lip, unable to speak. He walks away for a few minutes and then returns with something black in his hands. He holds out some black sweat shorts to you. You don’t have it in you to reach out and take them, you just look at him.

‘Can I help you?’ he asks gently when you make no effort to take them. Although still slightly skeptical of his motives, you nod your head in a final acceptance of defeat, understanding you truly do need his help. With tears still rolling down your cheeks, you stand up and he steps forward, slowly closing the space between you. He reaches out towards you, but he stops before he makes contact, giving you one final look questioningly, silently begging you for permission once more. You nod again as you try to control the nauseous feelings gnawing at your insides.

Hangman’s hand finds the zipper of your flight suit at your waist. He crouches down in front of you, zipping it the rest of the way down. He then signals for you to place each of your feet on his lap and he unties your boots, removing them one by one and placing them down gently next to him. You put your hands on his shoulders as he guides the suit the rest of the way down past each of your legs. You stand there exposed in your black tank top and stained underwear, blood marking your thighs.

‘Do you have what you need?’ Hangman asks, making no effort to stare anywhere except your eyes in your bare state. You nod and point in the general direction of your locker. He leaves you briefly and returns with your bag and some damp paper towels. Hangman holds one of the towels gently to your forehead and then offers you the rest. You begin to wipe gently at the blood on your inner legs.

Hangman then helps you into his shorts. You manage a sniffly laugh as you take in your appearance in Hangman’s too-big shorts for your small frame. He chuckles too as he helps you fold them over a few times so that they manage to hold up on your waist. Afterward, he gives you a moment of privacy to do what you need. 

When you walk back out into the locker room he speaks, ‘I think everyone is still in the air but um, let’s get you home, hey?’ he says lightly. You muster a nod, nausea, and pain not yet at bay. He grabs his keys and helps you out of the base building, one hand on your waist, supporting you, and the other holding onto your flight bag for you.

Hangman helps you into his car and then sends a text to Coyote, letting him know that he’s taking you home as you’re unwell and asking him to pass this on to Maverick and the rest of your friends, surely worried about your wellbeing. You close your eyes, trying to control the pain and nausea as Hangman begins to drive. He takes his hand and places it into yours briefly, squeezing it slightly, comforting you.

The gesture takes you by surprise, but at the moment you welcome the comfort. ‘Where do you live?’ Hangman asks quietly as you reach the base gates. You whisper your address to him. A few minutes into the drive, a realisation falls upon you. You gently turn your head to Hangman ‘I didn’t bring my key’ you say, sighing. ‘Oh’ Hangman responds ‘That’s okay, I’ll just take you to my place for now, if that's okay with you?' he asks. You nod, currently desperate to flee to anywhere with access to pain medication.

You must have dozed off in the drive because when the car comes to a sudden halt, you cannot recall the rest of the journey to your destination. Hangman unbuckles you and helps you out. He leads you through to his apartment. He points out the relevant rooms to you as you pass them, a supportive hand around your waist again. Once inside, he helps you down onto his couch.

Hangman works quickly, sourcing you pain relief and anti-nausea medication, as well as water and a heating pack. ‘Hey’ he says gently after providing you with everything you could possibly imagine, ‘I’m just going to duck back to base quickly, let everyone know you’re okay, fix up our planes, get your key’. You nod understandingly, silently thanking him. ‘You do whatever you want, eat, shower, sleep. Wash your clothes. Order anything you want, watch anything you want. Whatever you need okay?’. You nod once again, trying to process the uncommon kindness he had shown you today. As he leaves quietly, he shoots you a small smile, lacking the usual smirk you had become accustomed to.

You take the medications and shower, letting the warm water soothe you. Afterward, you put on a shirt that you find he had left out for you and place your soiled clothes in the wash. You lie down on the couch, anticipating for the medications to take their effect.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2

@chaoticgay13

@bobafett-tea

@adaydreamaway08

[itwasalladreamsblog]

Aiming to get chapter 6 out this weekend beautiful people 🤍

Fight or Flight? (chapter 5)

Jake Seresin x Pilot Reader (+ Maverick’s Daughter)

Note: The events of this piece very loosely follow the timeline of Top Gun Maverick, parts have been changed or altered to fit this story.

Another note: thank you 🤍🤍

Warnings: language and innuendos. Oh and angst!

Your father pushes the squadron to the breaking point over the following days. Everyone is being challenged in more ways than you had ever thought possible. As a result, you are on the verge of burnout. Your life is just a current cycle of flying and sleep. You know your fatigue is starting to show in your flying and that frustrates you.

Hangman makes a point of throwing this in your face whenever the opportunity arises, your previous comment to him days ago clearly having made no bearing on his ego. Although the judgement did hold merit, it was a bit of a cheap shot, but at that point in time, you had truly had enough.

You're bitter when you find yourself paired with Hangman for today's training exercise. The vexation is further accelerated when Hangman is appointed team leader within your partnership. 'I love having you work under me, Duke' Hangman winks to you as you both make your way to your respective planes. He continues 'Well, all I'm saying is, it is a woman's job to follow after a man'. 'Don't you fucking dare' you say seething, not willing to tolerate or play fire with fire with his usual bout of sexism today.

The exercise plays out just as terribly as you predict. Hangman was never known to be a team player. Not when you had flown together at various stations in the past, and not now. ‘You’re going too fast, slow down’ you tell Hangman over your coms, annoyed. ‘Duke, it’s not my problem if you can’t keep up’ Hangman replies, you can practically hear the smirk plastered on his face.

When you finish the exercise, you're pissed. You had reached the target, a total of 20 seconds behind Hangman. ‘What the fuck was that?’ you ask him when you land, practically jumping out of your plane, your tone evidently raised. ‘Ouch. I love it when you talk dirty to me’ he replies, exiting his own.

‘How the fuck is anyone supposed to trust you as a team leader when you leave us hanging like that?!’ you now yell. ’Sweetheart, it’s not my fault that you couldn’t keep up’ he replies, his voice annoyingly calm, the sarcasm unwavering. You toss your helmet to the ground as you bend down to pick up your flight bag.

'Duke, there's no other easy way to say this. You don't belong here, and you sure as shit don't belong in the Navy. It's a man's job. Always has been, always will be' Hangman says, leaning against his plane, arms crossed arrogantly. You fight with everything in you to not let his comment get under your skin. 'I don't have the time to educate you on the current gender in politics of this century' you say as you turn, storming off of the tarmac.

As you enter back through the base inside, you give your dad a look that you hope conveys that he would be unwise to partner you with Hangman ever again.

You pay a visit to your godfather that afternoon. It's painful to see him in his current state. It had been a few months since you had last seen Ice, and it was clear that he was declining rapidly. Although you still find yourself aggravated by the earlier events of the day, you force yourself to put on a brave face throughout dinner, not wanting to give Ice another reason to worry about. Eventually, you're even able to enjoy yourself.

As you drive back home to retire for the night, you feel infinitely lighter from your evening. When you arrive back at your dad’s house, you find that he isn’t there. There’s a note written telling you he’s out helping Penny. You smile to yourself. 

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@clockworkballerina

@dempy

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@hoalkk1

@wishingwell-2