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#omaha squad imagine
imawkwardlysoc · 1 year
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the night of nights
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Summary- The Dagger Squad plus Mav and Ice get invited to the Met Gala (Based on a conversation @mvngokkwritings, @skiddit, @marianatrenchprobably, and I had)
Wordcount- 1,761
The first May of the month. Everyone has been waiting for this day ever since the last one. The themed carpet covers the steps of the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art as it waits for celebrities, politicians, and designers to walk on the steps as their pictures are taken. The off-white carpet with red, white, and blue stripes drawn along it matched the theme for this year’s Met Gala: "Serving America: Fashion from the Past to Present”. Fans from all over New York crowded in front of the Carlyle Hotel behind the barricades, waiting for celebrities to come out of the hotel in their outfits.
Currently, in the presidential suite of the Carlyle Hotel, the Dagger Squad along with their captain and his husband were getting ready for this event. All of them were still freaking out that they got the chance to be invited to this event. Over the past years since the mission, all of them would crowd in Mav and Ice’s theater room- yes they have a theater room, they have that type of money- and watch the live stream. All of them would boo at all of the men that would come in the basic black suit and tie while they cheer for the women and the men who actually made the effort of not wearing the black suit. After the live stream, all of them would dream of going to the Met Gala and meeting all types of celebrities while munching on food, and sipping on the most expensive champagne ever. Now they get the chance to go to this event as representatives of the US Navy.
*Back in December*
The squadron sat in the classroom and waited for their captain to come in for the last-minute meeting.
“Does anyone know what this meeting is about?” Omaha asked.
“Rooster?” Everyone looked at the mustache man.
“How am I supposed to know?” Rooster shrugged his shoulders. “Mav doesn’t tell me everything.”
“Please tell me it’s not another suicide mission,” Ruben groaned.
“Don’t worry, it’s not.” Everyone stood up when they heard Mav’s voice. “Sit down.”
Everyone sat down and Mav sat on one of the empty tables than standing behind the podium.
“I’m going to be straight to the point and tell you that we have been invited to the Met Gala in May,” Mav told them.
“What?!” All of them questioned.
Everyone started to throw Mav a bunch of questions which he tried to answer but told all of them to shut it and he’ll answer them.
“Look, the theme is Serving America: Fashion from the Past to Present and it showcases fashion in America from the Revolutionary War to now,” Mav explained. “Anna Wintour asked the SECNAV if the Navy is willing to send one of its best squadrons to help raise money and they asked Ice if he could send us. Ice and I talked about it and it’s a good idea. It’s just up to you guys if you want to go.”
“If any of you say no, you’re out of the squad,” Hangman threatened.
“You don’t have that power, Bagman,” Phoenix replied.
“That’s true, but we all know who does,” the Texan looked at their captain.
“Yeah, Ice wouldn’t do that,” Mav shot the idea down.
“I was talking about you but okay,” Hangman shrugged his 
“Well, that’s the meeting. Please get back to either Ice or me by the end of the week,” Mav told them. “Now, you’re all dismissed.”
All of them said their goodbyes and left the classroom filled with excitement.
*Present Day*
After months of preparation and talking to designers, everyone got into their outfits after getting their hair and makeup done.
“Phoenix, Halo, you two look amazing,” Ice complimented them.
Halo donned an outfit created by an indie Asian fashion designer that represented her Asian heritage and gave homage to her family who immigrated here from their homeland. Phoenix on the other hand is wearing a dress resembling the dresses from the 1940s but made out of old uniforms from the Navy. The guys, on the other hand, it was a mix. Harvard, Fanboy, Payback, Fritz, Omaha, Coyote, and Yale wore intricate outfits which represented them in the Navy but also represented them in some way. Bob went kind of a safer route with a lavish suit with a bolo tie still. Rooster and Hangman, on the other hand, are completely on opposite sides of the spectrum with their outfits.
“Please tell me that you’re not going to the Met Gala in that,” Phoenix laughed as she saw Rooster walk into the room with his outfit on.
“What?” Rooster questioned. “What’s wrong with this?”
“It’s too basic,” Fanboy explained as he adjusted his shirt. “We constantly roast all of the men that come in basic black suits and now you’re one of those men.”
“What do you want me to wear then?” The mustache man questioned. “My Hawaiian shirt with jeans?”
“Yes!” Everyone in the room exclaimed.
“Let’s just hope Hangman-” Omaha was interrupted when Hangman walked into the room.
So many thoughts came into everyone’s head when they saw him. One of them was how did the Navy approve his outfit. It took a lot of convincing to let Mav and Ice add some sparkle to their uniforms. All of them wondered how much convincing it took them to approve of Hangman’s outfit.
Hangman donned a sleeveless leather vest with a short-sleeved dress shirt underneath. With his pants situation, he wore shorts that fell two inches or so below his bulge while pairing them with ass-less chaps.
“Rooster is serving basic while Hangman serving cunt-try,” Coyote let out a laugh.
“I may have misinterpreted the theme,” Hangman grinned.
“No, you didn’t,” Rooster shook his head.
“How did you even get the Navy to approve this?” Halo questioned.
Hangman shrugged his shoulders and looked at himself in the mirror while everyone was still processing what he was wearing. After getting ready for a few more minutes, the squadron with their fathers headed out of the suite and headed down to the party bus.
“Remember, we are representing the US Navy,” Ice announced. “Please don’t do anything embarrassing.”
“Um sir, have you seen what Hangman is wearing?” Bob quipped which caused Phoenix to give him a high-five.
“I need to call my therapist after seeing that,” Fritz took a swig of his drink.
“All of y’all are just jealous that I’m pulling this off,” Hangman scoffed.
Everyone else rolled their eyes and they finally got to the steps. All fourteen of them headed out of the party bus and all of them admired the steps. The view of flashing lights from the cameras came into view as they heard the photographers shout celebrities' names. They went through security before standing in line to step on the carpet. All of the members of the squadron started to fangirl/boy over the celebrities that they’d seen so far.
“Mothers,” Phoenix and Fanboy whispered under their breaths as they saw Anne Hathaway and Jessica Chastine walk the carpet.
Soon it was time for them to walk the carpet. Despite them being on a suicide mission, all of them felt nervous. Even Mav and that man faced death a couple of times.
“Wow, everyone’s loving Hangman’s outfit aren’t they?” Payback questioned all of the focus on Hangman.
“Oh don’t be surprised if he shows up on the best-dressed list tomorrow,” the Ivies said simultaneously.
“Do any of you still find it creepy when they do this?” Halo questioned.
Everyone nodded their heads and walked up the steps. Thankfully they didn’t get pulled into interviews so they just went straight up to the top of the steps. All of them individually got the chance to talk to Anna Wintour for twenty seconds before walking into the museum.
All of the exhibits showed fashion throughout America’s history. From different centuries to different decades, there were outfits from that era with placards telling some details.
“Wow, the Navy uniforms changed,” all of them looked at the uniforms.
“How did they make them more?” Rooster questioned what to say next.
“Straight?” Everyone replied.
“That wasn’t the word but that also works,” Rooster shrugged his shoulders.
They soon left the Navy exhibit since it was time for the dinner and performances. Everyone was seated at separate tables since Anna didn’t want anyone who knew each other to sit together. Everyone sat with some interesting people but I think Mickey’s table was the best. He sat with Doja Cat, Adele, Luke Combs, Niall Horan, and Bill Nye. It was a weird mix but they vibed with each other. Everyone else had interesting people at their table but Mickey’s were the far best. They were the life of the gala with the vibe they were giving. Especially when Shania Twain was the performer of the evening. Everyone got out of their seats and Mickey walked over to where his squadron was so they can jam out together. Hangman somehow got dragged and got to dance with Shania when she sang I Feel Like A Woman.
“We’re seeing the same thing right?” Phoenix downed her drink. “We’re not inebriated on drinks or drugs.”
“We’re not high on drugs right?” Ice raised his eyebrow as he looked at his children.
“Okay, why is everyone looking at me?” Fritz whined.
“Do you not remember what happened last time?” Omaha questioned.
“It was one time!” Fritz threw his hands up in the air.
Everyone shook their heads and some of them went out to look at the exhibits while some of them stayed in the main area to dance some more. Soon after, people started to leave since the after-party was coming up and they needed to get ready, which included the Dagger Squad.
“All of you better don’t do anything bad at the after-party,” Ice told them. “Remember we are still representatives of the United States Navy.”
“Just don’t add or subtract to the population. That’s all we’re asking,” Mav added.
“Don’t worry,” all of them promised.
“Alright, go have fun,” Ice dismissed them.
Everyone who was dressed up in nice suits and dresses left the hotel again to the club.
Did they do anything stupid? No, well most of them. Did they add and/or subtract to the population? Thankfully they didn’t. Did they represent the US Navy well? I guess they did and that was the goal.
The next day, all of the daggers were on the best-dressed list. Well most of them… Rooster might’ve been roasted on Twitter…
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sorchathered · 5 months
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Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 10
A/N- Holy cow yall we are finally here! Our last chapter of this series, but not the end for Jake and Stormy! I will be checking in here and there, I have some one shots planned for them in the future and I’m excited for you guys to see how things have been going for them. Again thank you all so much for the love, I will always have a special place for this series since it’s my first baby. I want to give a massive shout out to @mamachasesmayhem for being my cheerleader from the very beginning of this series, proofreading for me and helping me brainstorm when I couldn’t push through the writer’s block. You have been amazing and I love you!! 😘
Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)
Warnings- language, PTSD, smut
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It had been a little over a week since you showed up at Jake's doorstep, he still couldn’t believe that he’d finally gotten what he wished for. Waking up next to you every morning, getting to commute to work together, sneaking off to hook up during lunch, it was all so much more than he could’ve hoped for. You were so damn happy, you and Viper had integrated seamlessly into your new squad, some people like Harvard and Omaha you already knew but there were new players as well and everyone had been so welcoming. You had kind of dreaded running into Bradley and Erin but even that seemed to go well, they had welcomed their son Nicky a few months after your accident and he was now a full blown toddler, the spitting image of his father. Both of them had been friendly, Bradley welcoming you back and Erin saying she was so happy you’d recovered, you knew they truly meant it and graciously accepted their words.
Jake maintained that you were a saint but really it was just that you hadn’t truly loved Bradley, at least not in a way that would’ve lasted. Neither of you had been compatible, and it was so easy to see now that you’d been with Jake for nearly two years; when it was truly meant to be it was unlike anything else mattered but the one you loved, and you couldn’t imagine life without Jake beside you. The ring in the top of his closet seemed to mock him every day, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect but nothing seemed good enough for his girl, so he let it sit untouched for yet another week as he took you out to the arcade on Friday for what had quickly become a weekly date night.
You had put a bunch of ideas in a jar the week before, told him to shake it up and pick one and off you both went on whatever adventure was scribbled on the tiny note, tonight was burgers and laser tag and while he’d joked that he was too old for that he had been the one hunting you down to shoot you as he cackled, maybe he just needed to be reminded that things didn’t always have to be so stressful because he couldn’t remember when he’d had this much fun.
After a lazy Sunday beach day and dinner on the grill he’d curled up with you on the couch with a movie, you’d meant for things to be innocent but he smelled so good and you found yourself turning in his arms to sling your leg over his hip, making out with him like you were a pair of teenagers. He fucked you slow and steady into the leather couch while the movie droned on in the background, his mouth slotted against yours as his hands roamed your body, you loved to joke how insatiable he had become since you moved in but you knew you were just as gone for him, too many nights had been spent apart and now having him in close proximity all you wanted was to make him feel good. You both came undone together as you whispered I love you into his neck, and all Jake could think of was how perfect his life had become.
Monday morning before he’d even had his coffee he’d gotten a text from Maverick to head to Cyclone’s office as soon as he got in, he immediately felt his stomach drop just thinking of what that meant. Deployment, for who knows how long and who knows where, and ultimately having to say goodbye to you again after he just got you back. He couldn’t bear to say anything to you until he knew for sure, so he went through the motions business as usual as you both ate breakfast and headed to work, kissing you a little longer than normal before you parted but you didn’t seem to notice anything off, promising to meet him for lunch with a wink and kisses blown in his direction. His feet felt like lead standing outside of Admiral Simpson’s office, he knew nothing good was coming from this meeting and when he entered he could tell by the look on his face that it was exactly what he thought. “How long?” He said as Mav handed him his papers, he could feel the lump forming in his throat and wanted out of this room as soon as possible. “Nine weeks son, I’m sorry Jake I know Y/N just got here, but you’re the best for the task and if I could I’d let you stay. She’ll be alright, I’ll keep an eye on her, you just do the job and come home safe.” Jake nodded and shook his hand, bailing from the room as soon as he could, he swiped his phone open and dialed you as fast as he could, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and when you answered he was full blown panicking, choking out to meet him by the truck and hanging up as he collapsed into the seat of his f-150. He wasn’t ready to go, you’d only been back in the air for a few months and now he finally had you here where he could take care of you, why couldn’t someone else have been picked?
You’d run across the lot to find him with his head in his hands in the front seat, wrenching the door open to wrap your arms around him, anything to help him regulate his emotions. He finally seemed to settle his breathing, relaxing into your arms while you stroked his sandy hair and kissed his cheeks. “What’s going on baby? You’ve got me scared now, did something happen with your family? Is your mom ok?” He squeezed your hand and passed the papers off to you, you knew exactly what it meant and you felt cold all over. This was the job, and while you both loved it you hated this part more than anything. He would miss all the major holidays together in your new home, your heart broke a little at having to celebrate Christmas without him and he let you curl into his arms and cry.
He only had a week from getting his papers to shipping out and it felt like the time was speeding away from him and he couldn’t catch it. He’d been adamant that the two of you update your wills on Tuesday and you had vehemently opposed it, he was stressing a little too much for your liking and it left you unmoored. Deployments were a part of this life, and yes you’d had a serious scare this last time but that didn’t mean he needed to become doom and gloom over it, you were worried about his mindset going into this, he needed a clear head if he had any hope of getting through this unscathed.
Wednesday night he was meticulously going through his packing list, gear spread all over the living room when you stepped into the house with take out, the vein in his forehead that only came out when he was angry seemed to be a permanent presence as of late, he was all furrowed brows and tense shoulders and you couldn’t take it for one more minute. “Jacob Thomas Seresin!” You called from the kitchen and he snapped his head to attention, he hadn’t even noticed you had gotten home until you shouted, looking across the room to find you with a pizza box in one hand and you completely stripped to nothing as you leaned against the doorframe. You sauntered over to where he sat cross legged on the floor, dropping the pizza box on the coffee table as you lowered yourself onto his lap, he was already getting hard for you when you pressed your bare pussy to the front of his gym shorts, his face going completely blank, no sign of that pesky forehead vein in sight.
“Fuck Stormy what are you doing baby? I gotta get this-“ he stopped short with a gasp as you ground yourself into him as you yanked a little roughly on his hair, pulling his face to yours and sloppily licking into his open mouth, he seemed to short circuit for a moment but recovered quickly as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso and kissed you back with fervor. Yanking his head back again to look up at you he blinked glazed emerald orbs at you, you were frustrated with him, he could see that now but he couldn’t focus enough to ask with you on top of him like this, he thought about asking but thought better of it when you reached down and took his length from his shorts, thoughts scattering all over again when you got up on your knees and sunk down on him, you still hadn’t said anything but he couldn’t be bothered anymore, whining out your name as you took him to the hilt with your warm center clenching around him. You nibbled on his lip and rubbed your nose along his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you could feel the tension leaving him as you held him close, you knew he’d needed it as much as you, just the closeness of your bodies pressed together was enough to soothe whatever had been ailing both your minds.
“I’m going to sit here with you just like this until you calm the fuck down and tell me what’s got you so amped up, you’ve been like an exposed nerve ever since you got your papers and I can’t let you leave like this. You’re scaring me Jake, you can’t leave for a mission distracted you know better than that. You’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen and they picked you to head this op. You have to tell me what’s going on, you just have to!” You cried out as tears began to pour from your eyes, your throat felt raw with the emotion bubbling out of you and you began to shake in his embrace, the combination of being so full of him and revealing your worry almost too much. He seemed to jolt out of whatever trance he’d been in at your tears, swiping at them as they ran down your cheeks and kissing you hard, he knew he’d been distant and stressed couldn’t begin to describe how he’d been feeling, but he hadn’t even thought about himself and how it could affect the mission; all his worries had been solely focused on you.
“Oh baby I’m so sorry, shh hey I’m here ok? I’ll tell you all of it, just don’t cry sugar. I can't stand knowing I hurt you.” He was kissing every bit of your face he could get to, smoothing his hands all over you as you began to come down and regulate your breathing. You couldn’t be closer if you tried and yet he still felt so far away, you needed more so you latched on to his mouth and tightened your arms around his neck, he let you ground yourself and calm down, just breathing you in until the tears finally stopped. “Baby, baby I love you so much, I’m sorry” he murmured against your lips, you nodded and sniffled a little but didn’t loosen your grip, rocking into him slowly knowing he’d know what you wanted. He groaned low in his throat and flipped the two of you over as he pressed you gently into the carpet, letting the hot languid kisses burn the two of you up, all heat and bodies grinding into each other, letting all the stress go and just being hopelessly in love.
Hours later after you were both fully sated and relaxed you laid naked in his arms and ate the cold pizza while he let out all the words he’d kept bottled up. “It hadn’t ever occurred to me that we could lose this, I mean our job is dangerous sure but some naive part of me just thought we were untouchable.”
“Until I got hurt” you said quietly.
“Until you got hurt. It felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me, every dream I’d ever had of us and our future could’ve been gone in an instant and I am terrified that something could happen to me and I’d leave you here alone.” He tightened his grip on your waist and you pressed a kiss to his chest, you knew exactly how he felt because you’d felt it all as you fell out of the sky during your ejection. But he couldn’t live in fear, it made him a liability to his fellow pilots and he was too damn good at what he did to let this destroy his confidence.
“You have to have faith baby, faith that you’ll make it through, that I’ll make it through and that we will get that long happy life that we want. I’m not going anywhere Jake, and I need you to be my cocky asshole pilot who thinks he’s God’s gift to the navy. Go be a badass and come home to me.”
You both laughed at that, he’d grown so much from that dickish holier than thou douchebag he had been when you first met, he was so much more level headed and mature. He promised he’d fight like hell and you knew he would.
The missions were grueling, the weather had been miserable lately and it made drills almost impossible, intel was scarce and worst of all he hadn’t been able to hear your voice in weeks. He had missed Halloween and thanksgiving, both squads had joined up for a potluck and you’d sent him a bunch of pictures, he was just grateful you weren’t doing this alone. He had gotten an email from his mother earlier in the week hoping he could talk to you about staying for the Christmas holidays and he couldn’t think of a better place for you to be. You loved Christmas, it used to annoy him because it wasn’t his cup of tea but somehow you’d softened him to it. He wrote to her quickly to tell her it was a great idea and to give you a call, when he’d had a knock on his door. Fritz leaned in with a look he knew all too well, it was time to fly out. He emailed you as well, telling you he loved you and then grabbed his gear and headed for the tarmac, he could only hope he’d be able to execute this and get home safely.
You stepped off the plane in Austin on December 18th to the entire Seresin clan in the lobby, Jake’s sisters and mom rushing forward to wrap you up in hugs and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of love, probably not since your grandmother had passed nearly a decade before. She would have adored Jake and his family, they spent the holiday season showing you all over town, hitting up all of Jake’s old haunts and embarrassing family pictures. Movie nights and Christmas cookie bake offs, family dinners and shopping trips with the girls; it had been so much fun and the Seresin’s had welcomed you with open arms, it felt like somehow you belonged here, the only thing missing was your 6 foot sandy blonde dreamboat boyfriend.
Correspondence had been spotty with Jake for a while, you’d gotten a FaceTime call after a mission and he had seemed grim, they’d lost a teammate to enemy fire and the weather had been abysmal, almost everyone had come down with the flu and he was miserable. He said he hoped he’d make it home by mid January and your heart broke all over again at not getting to spend Christmas together in your home, but he was adamant that the best place for you was with his family, and that next year would be a big blowout, he even agreed to let you buy any and every inflatable you wanted to cover the yard in Christmas cheer.
What you didn’t realize was that he was already on his way back to Coronado, he had coordinated with Phoenix to help him turn the house into a Christmas wonderland and would be back just in time for you to get home. He couldn’t let the ring sit any longer, he needed it on your finger now. After too many hours covering his house from top to bottom in snowflakes and Christmas lights, it was finally time for your plane to land. He was so nervous, he knew he didn’t have any reason to be, Javy had kept him up to date on when your plane landed and when he picked you up. Jake could barely sit still, so full of nervous energy knowing what was to come. Finally, he heard Javy’s truck pull into the drive and watched through the blinds as he helped you gather your luggage, even in leggings and his old UT Austin sweatshirt you looked like you’d stepped off a runway in his eyes, every bit his dream come true. This was it, when you came through the door he’d finally get to make you his forever, it had all been worth the wait.
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Epilogue (Lover)
Jake Seresin masterlist
🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @kmc1989 @pinkdaisies9285 @seitmai @seitmai-too @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @jostan456 @86laura11 @dempy @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @dizzybee03 @its-the-pilot @nouis-bum @roosterforme @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer
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tgmsunmontue · 4 months
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Online & Anonymous 9/16
Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.
Odd year = Bradley's POV and Even year = Jake's POV
>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)
>>Jake chatting (italics)
2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012 2013
2014 – Jake
                Jake looks at the dates Nick has said he’s on leave and looks at his own calendar and scowls. It’s getting beyond a joke now and he feels like kicking something. Instead he goes for a long run, feet pounding the pavement in frustration. There’s nothing, not even a few days. Of course plans can change rapidly, which is what fucked them over in the past, so maybe it will act in their favor this time. He can only hope.
…            …            …
>>You know, with Taylor Swift’s new album I could put 1989 back in my username and everyone would assume I was just a fan.
>>You know who Taylor Swift is?
>>I’m a country fan. I like her older stuff.
>>Also I don’t live under a rock.
>>Old man.
>>Like you can talk.
>>You had your original birth year as 1986, you trying to make yourself younger now huh?
                Jake lets out a laugh, because this right here is how he knows he’s still talking to the same guy he started chatting to nearly ten years ago.
>>Nick, I’m thirty soon. That’s the age gay men die.
>>I’ll have a wake.
>>Bullshit. Don’t buy into that.
>>Life isn’t over when you magically turn 30.
>>Life just gets better. That’s how I feel anyway. Got my best years ahead of me.
>>Also I’m over thirty and I’m not chatting with you from my grave.
>>You might be. How would I know?
>>I might be dead by the time we actually get to meet the rate our luck is going.
…            …            …
                He knows the year is going to be a complete write-off when he enters the rec-room and Bradley Bradshaw is sitting there chatting with Omaha and Slipper. He can’t help but notice the two bars and tries to not let it bug him, knows it’s barely any distinction but it still rankles. As does the rejection, which is months ago now, it hadn’t been a stinging rejection by any stretch of the imagination, but it had definitely been a shutting down of anything, and those two-bars will be another reason or excuse Bradshaw will throw out there if Jake tries his luck again.
                Not that he will. He does note that Bradshaw hadn’t said he wasn’t gay, which is usually the first thing out of a straight man’s mouth when he’s asked out for a drink. Unless he’s completely oblivious, and if he’s being uncharitable then maybe he can think that Bradshaw is oblivious. But while he might not have taken Jake up on the offer of a drink, he’d been very quick to take Bambi out to dinner and then take her back to his place, where she’d spent the night. He’d thought he’d caught Bradshaw looking, but he wonders if it was just wishful thinking. Part of him wishes he was ignorant about all of it, but their base housing had all been too close for him not to notice.
                And now here he is.
                Stuck on a carrier with him for the next few months.
                And the fucker has gone and grown a fucking moustache.
…            …            …
                Fortunately Bradshaw seems to be content to keep his distance from Jake, almost like he’s wary of him; he also isn’t friendly, not like he is with nearly everyone else. Jake isn’t an idiot, he can extrapolate from that that Bradshaw doesn’t like him. He already suspected that was the case, and it rankles a little, but he tries to remind himself that not everyone has to like him. Something both Nick and Javy tell him. They’re in different squads, so fortunately the mutual avoiding each other is fairly straightforward.
                What does amuse him though is that Bradshaw has picked up a new callsign, Rooster, and the fact that he knows the origin makes him smirk every time he sees it on his helmet or flight suit. That probably doesn’t help endear him to the other man either, but Jake will keep his fairly benign callsign until someone gives him another one, or he does something either stupid or brave to earn one. He keeps up his Snapchat photo streak with Nick, although he does note the change of background of the morning coffee cup. Looks like every other fucking coffee cup on every naval carrier in the fleet.
                He looks up how many people are currently serving in the Navy and pulls a face at the number. 319,120. He’s one, and Nick is another. He supposes he should feel lucky that he at least knows Nick is Navy, because there are 1.35 million in the US military combined, which is an even more mind-boggling number when he tries to think about possibly of somehow just randomly bumping into Nick.
                Stranger things have happened though.
…            …            …
                “You don’t like me.”
                “I don’t know you,” Bradshaw replies, face bland and Jake responds with an equally bland smile.
                “And who’s fault is that?”
                He walks out of the rec room.
…            …            …
                He rings Javy to complain the next time they have shore leave, and for his credit Javy just lets him rant for a solid five or ten minutes before he tries to interject with anything.
                “Okay man. He really seems to get under your skin. I don’t know what to tell you, because I haven’t had any issues with him. He’s been… cool. He’s pretty chill and laid back, at least with all my interactions with him. Is there anything that you could have done that maybe annoyed him? More than just work shit that is…”
                “Oh. Uh.”
                “Jake… what’d you do?”
                “I asked him out?”
                “Seriously? With the whole attitude you gave him while we were at Top Gun you thought he’d say yes?”
                “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try.”
                “Well, I’m pretty sure he’s got something serious going with someone, at least, that’s what I’ve heard.”
                “Bunch of fucking gossips…”
                “Yeah well.”
                He suspects Javy has got his intel from Natasha Trace, and if that’s the case then it’s probably solid and correct. He doesn’t know what to think when he pairs that with the idea of Bradshaw having something serious but also having Bambi sleepover at the end of their Top Gun detachment. Unless the something serious is Bambi, which is also possible. Huh. He doesn’t say anything else though, because he doesn’t want to care anymore about Bradley fucking Bradshaw than he already does, annoying asshole. He does feel like he’s been a bit of a dick himself though, his comment he made about the fault being his that they don’t know each other. Jake isn’t usually that defensive, knows it’s got to be because Bradshaw turned him down, but he has to respect the guy if he does have something going with someone, because Jake wouldn’t have known, likely wouldn’t have ever found out, and he knows plenty of guys do.
                Too late to do anything about it now though.
…            …            …
>>You still out there having shitty sex?
>>Hey now.
>>I don’t go looking for bad sex.
>>It just happens to me.
>>You clearly have a gift.
>>Wow.
>>Thanks man.
>>Truly I am blessed.
>>You want a picture to cheer yourself up?
                Jake can’t type his reply fast enough, the pictures and videos that Nick sends him few and far between but so good, and he’s starting to develop a thing for long fingers. Especially when they’re wrapped around a cock, and he’s mentioned to Nick that the idea of Nick’s hand wrapping around both of them gets him hot. The picture that comes through is gorgeous, Nick reclining and the picture down the length of his body, one leg stretched straight, the other bent, his cock hard in his hand as he jerks himself. The lighting is warm, like it was taken at either sunset or sunrise, all pink and peach hues. They’ve both improved in taking pictures, and he takes a screenshot so he can stare at it properly later rather than getting flustered about the time bar getting smaller.
>>Saw you take that screenshot.
>>What are you going to do about it?
>>Nothing. Just letting you know that I know you’re going to jerk off to it more than once.
>>Yep.
>>Going to work myself over thinking about getting my mouth on you, sinking down on your cock.
>>I can’t exactly take toys with me when I’m deployed, but I can finger myself and imagine that it’s you.
>>God Jas. Send me a picture?
>>Sure thing.
…            …            …
                Bradley and his squadron leave the carrier after four months and Jake wishes he was leaving as well. Nick has leave soon, it would line up beautifully, but he’s got another three months of this deployment, and then he has four weeks of leave, but Nick is meant to be deployed again by then. The tide has not magically turned in their favor and lined up their leaves and he keeps his most bitter disappointment to himself.
…            …            …
>>Well, you aren’t the only one having shitty sex. Man some guys are dicks.
>>What happened ? Or should I not ask?”
>>Just a hook up. Blew the guy and he didn’t even reciprocate. Tried to give me a handjob but he wasn’t even trying or into it.
>>That doesn’t seem fair?
>>Well, it’s not always fair, but I’d kind of gone in hoping for reciprocation as a bare minimum. Ah well. Can only go up from here.
2015
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For The Gold 🥇 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine
Takes place after the events of TGM
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Link to my TGM Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Pilot/Olympian!reader x Dagger squad (platonic), slight Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin
Content warnings: fluff, mentions of injuries, slight profanity. Might be emotional for you so be warned| Gn!reader (They/them) | wc: 12k+
Premise: In which the 2019 TopGun Uranium detachment return to Fightertown to watch and cheer on their colleague & friend as they compete on the greatest sporting stage the world has ever seen for their last chance at Olympic glory.
Note: so I was an athlete growing up (I did gymnastics, soccer, and figure skating) and although I no longer pursue my dream of going to the Olympics (my biggest regret in life) I still get super excited when it comes around. It’s currently World Cup season & I’m hyperfixating to say the least on sports and now have these ideas of a professional athlete!reader works for the dagger squad. Let me know if you want more because I totally have ideas for other sports— especially the ones I played because I have more personal knowledge of them, but I LOVE watching the track and field and nearly went that path when I was a kid because I loved to run and was really fast (I played wing for soccer in high school and I always had people tell me I should’ve been on the track team instead). For this imagine, imagine you were born in 1990 so it would put you at age 30-31 in 2021 and just to be clear this is following the idea that the events of TGM took place in 2019 since the movie was supposed to come out around that time or 2020.
“Let’s freaking go!!!” Javy practically shouts as he claps his hands when entering The Hard Deck to a crowd of people and his friends. Eyes were already glued to the multiple TV screens Penny had set up with the help of regular patrons. There was a table filled with food set out, coolers of ice and beers donated by customers. The bar was buzzing with excitement with many sporting team USA gear and waving American flags. It was the early hours of the morning—literally 5 am and everyone in the building had slept the duration of the previous day in order to pull an all-nighter or had just woken up. They wanted to watch the event live and not the replay later that day due to the 17 hour time difference. News crews were there as well, hoping to catch everyone’s reaction.
The squad rolled their eyes at their colleague, but smiled nonetheless. They too were filled with anticipation. “How much time until their up?” Coyote asked, taking a beer before finding a place beside Hangman. The Dagger squad had arrived early to get good spots with Coyote being the last to arrive. Now there was hardly any space in some areas with the turn out. Civilians and servicemen swarmed every corner.
“About thirty or so minutes. They should be coming into the arena soon.”
Everyone from TopGun was there, including Cyclone, Warlock, Hondo, Maverick and the current aviators going through the TopGun program. Many of the former 2019 detachment had gone off to their old or new assignments, but as soon as the announcement of the team hit the news they were popping off in the group chat and booking flights to Fightertown.
So here they all were. All 12 of the special detachment that trained together for a high-risk uranium enrichment plant mission back again in the Hard Deck like the first night three ago. Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Phoenix, Bob, Fanboy, Payback, Fritz, Halo, Omaha, Harvard, and Yale. They were only missing one person.
The person across the Pacific Ocean who was the reason they were together to cheer on from home, and would be going for the gold in one final run.
It was the first week of August, 2021. The Games of the XXXII Olympiad in Tokyo, Japan.
What should have been held the year prior, was postponed due to the COVID-19 Pandemic. Now after years of hard work & dedications, nearly 12 thousand athletes from 206 nations around the world were gathered for the greatest sports event in history.
17 days, 339 events in 33 sports. The gold medal on the line.
For Y/n L/n, this was the moment they’d been waiting for. At 31 years old, Y/n spent their entire childhood and adolescence dreaming of the day they would walk through the tunnel of an Olympic arena to represent the USA. From the moment they could walk the track became their life. Their parents were coaches at Vanderbilt University and were the contributing factor to them pursuing the sport. And at age six, Y/n sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium in the summer of 1996 where they witnessed with awe as Micheal Johnson won the gold for the USA in the Men’s 200m & 400m sprint and Carl Lewis defended his title of the long jump champion for four consecutive Olympics. Just days prior Y/n witnessed history for USA Gymnastics when the Magnificent 7 defeated Russia for the US’s first women’s All-Around team gold medal.
It was a memorable Games, held on home soil in the city of Atlanta and with many firsts and defenders.
It was the spark of a lifelong goal for the six year old in the stands.
Blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. From an early age Y/n loved to run. But sprinting was their passion. The 100m, 200m, & 400m became their sole focus.
Everyday, sometimes twice or three times Y/n was running drills and sprints. Their day would start with an early morning jog with their dad before the sun was even out, followed by breakfast before heading to the track. From there they would stretch, run drills, and conditioning. Then they would have an hour break for lunch before doing it all over again until dinner. The day would end with another cycle of drills and conditioning. Y/n would be out of breath, sweating, and sometimes in pain.
But they were determined. Like most athletes who dedicate their lives to the international level they became homeschooled and missed out on many things a typical child or teen would experience. Though Y/n had friends it was only a select few. There was hardly time for a social life and therefore it was hard for them to form connections. It wasn’t until they got into competitions did they begin making friends with fellow competitors.
At age 10 Y/n participated in their first meet. It was a let down, but not a total loss. Sure they didn’t win a medal but they didn’t come in last and that in itself was a win in their eyes. It just made them more determined to do better and the next season they delivered by claiming a regional title. As years went by regionals became state titles and soon Y/n was a national champion at age 16. That winning season had brands reaching out to sponsor the teen, but if they were to also take a chance at an NCAA title in college then sponsorships were gonna have to wait.
2008 was the year to remember. Y/n had attended their first World Championships and although they didn’t win gold, they took the bronze and became a likely contender to make the Olympic team in the upcoming trials. They had just graduated with their diploma and had accepted a full ride to Vanderbilt University as part of their track team. What came as a big surprise to their parents was Y/n would not just be getting their degree and competing for the college team, they would also be doing the Naval ROTC program.
Unbeknownst to their family, Y/n was drawn to the world of aviation. Their grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and would tell them stories of what it was like in the air. He even had a cool callsign, ‘Viper,’ and taught at the Navy’s prestigious school for pilots. When Y/n was a child, he would take them to the air shows and teach them all about the maneuvers they were doing and even brought them to TopGun. They were in awe as he would explain all the gadgets and weapons of the F-14.
Yes, track and the Olympics was their life, but something was calling them to the skies.
“Honey, where did this come from? You never talked about joining the Navy before,” their mother said with confusion at the dinner table when Y/n explained their upcoming schedule. “If you make the team this summer I hope you’re not planning for this to be your only games. You’re so young and could easily go again for London and the 2016 games.”
“That’s still the plan, mom,” Y/n sighed, “But you remember all those stories grandpa would tell me about his pilot days? I want to do something more in case this doesn’t work out—have a backup plan per say. What if I tear my hamstring or something happens that I have to retire?” It wasn’t something they liked to think about, but with being an athlete the next meet is never guaranteed. Injuries are common—especially torn ACLs and hamstrings. Y/n had other passions besides track and wanted something there for if the worst happened.
“Y/n, if you do two years of their program you have to decide whether to commit or not and you’ll likely be commissioned when you graduate,” their father pointed out, “That means you’ll have new priorities and if you're serious about flight school that is going to cut time off the track. London is possible given it will be your last year in college—maybe we can pull some strings and have your commission pushed back if you make the team—-but I don’t think 2016 would be. You’re talking balancing a career as a Naval officer and professional athlete. That’s a lot to take on—physically and mentally.”
He had a point and Y/n knew it. London was in four years and definitely possible even if they fail to make the Beijing team. The location of 2016 had yet to be decided, but with the timing it would put Y/n four years into a possible Navy career.
Still they were wanted to make both work.
An Olympic champion and a fighter pilot.
First they had to get through 2008 and boy was it a year to remember. It fulfilled one half of the Olympic dream for Y/n: making the team and competing on the world’s greatest sporting stage. Tears streamed down their face as they embraced their parents following the end of the trials. It was a hell of a trials with Y/n competing against some of the best track stars in the country. They were completely starstruck when Allison Felix congratulated them following the announcement, Y/n remembered watching her four years prior in Athens for her Olympic debut and thought, ‘I really hope we’re teammates in Beijing.’
Unfortunately, a gold medal was not in store for the athlete. Of the three events; 100m, 200m, & 400m, Y/n only qualified for the 200m & 400m after finishing in the top two of their heat. The night of the 200m finals was a saddening with Y/n finishing fourth, just shy of a medal, but the Games were not a total loss when days later an Olympic bronze medal was placed around their neck and the American Flag rose alongside Great Britain and Jamaica’s.
And so the next four years of training for London—with Rio De Janeiro in 2016 looming around the corner—began the second they touched back on U.S soil. On top it was the pressure of securing NCAA titles not to mention A’s & B’s in their classes, while also getting through one of the top collegiate ranked NROTC programs.
It was a lot. And Y/n became burnt out at times. They had already set their name in record books at the national level, now it was time to amp up the game on the international and college level. A bronze medal would not satisfy Y/n, gold was the goal.
It all paid off by the time 2012 arrived. With a few more national titles under their belt and a World Championship in the 400m, Y/n was the talk for a gold among commentators. At the end of their collegiate career they secured several titles in their three events and managed to come out with a 3.8 cumulative GPA. In regards to the NROTC Y/n committed to the program after their second year and was set to commission that summer. The trials were around the same time as what would have been the ceremony, but after several meetings they allowed it to be postponed until after the trials. It would be some time before Y/n would be assigned an OTS due to the path they were taking with flight school and therefore it would likely not interfere with the upcoming Olympics. “Bring home the gold for us,” the officer shook their hand at the end. It filled them with nerves, but mostly perseverance, “I plan to.”
The trials were a success once again with Y/n having the honor to call themselves a two-time Olympian. The five colored rings were tattooed on their bicep, something they did immediately after Beijing that often resulted in being recognized in public, and gold was in their mind. After qualifying for all three events and earning a place on the 4x100 relay, Y/n had four chances at the gold: 3 individual and 1 team.
It was a silver lining moment in all three individual events. After failing to qualify for the 100m finals in Beijing, Y/n pulled a show stopping finish in the last heat earning them a place in the final. It was the most heat pumping 10 seconds of their life that happened in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it they were on the podium with a silver medal and the same would follow in the 200m and 400m. At the end of the 400m ceremony they were bombarded by reporters with the same question, “Y/n, what a run tonight, congratulations again this is your third medal in these games and it seems to be a silver lining moment for you. What are your thoughts?”
Still coming off the emotion from winning their fourth Olympic medal, a privilege not many could say, Y/n smiled wide, “It’s amazing really, you know I took the bronze four years ago in this event and I’m so grateful to come out with another medal—this time being silver. I couldn’t believe Monday night when I took the silver in the 100m—just making it to the finals after not qualifying in Beijing was an accomplishment and same goes for taking second in the 200m. I want to thank my parents, who are also my coaches and have been with me on this journey since the beginning. I’m just so blessed and filled with happiness tonight—I could not have done this without them.”
“You still have a chance at the gold in Wednesday’s relay. How are you feeling about that? What can we expect by the team?”
“We have such an amazing group for the relay, I’m so honored I get to represent the United States alongside them. Every one of us have worked so hard to be here and have really put our blood, sweat, and tears. Hopefully bring home the gold—I know each of us are going to give it our best.”
Y/n’s publicist from the side was signaling for them to hurry up, “One last question before you go,” the reporter quickly said. “For the people at home who have been cheering you on these past four years, can we expect you to return for Rio? I know you could very well take the gold in the relay, but are you hoping to try for an individual in the future?” This was the question Y/n had been preparing for the entire games. Having managed to keep their NROTC program hidden from the media, it troubled Y/n to reveal they would be a Navy officer by the end of the summer. It wasn’t odd for active duty members to be athletes, there were plenty who participated in the games every four years. It would just be difficult given the career path they chose and having to get all the paperwork filed for time off around meets and international competitions.
After a moment of thinking, they finally answered, “I’m very lucky I get to say I competed in these games twice now. I’m twenty-two now and will be twenty-six by the time Rio comes around—not to mention I start flight school pretty soon,” there was immediate surprise by the reporter, but Y/n continued and was quick to finish with. “I’m gonna work hard as I always do and hopefully Rio is in the cards for me. But to give a yes or no imma just say yes, that is the plan.”
Before the reporter could question the topic of flight school, Y/n was already saying goodbye and letting their publicist pull them away. The relay was in two days and was their last chance at winning a gold for the London games. Of course, Y/n was hopeful they would make the Rio team for the sake of winning an individual gold medal. There would no doubt be glory and honor if they were to win the relay, but it had been their dream since childhood to stand on the podium with a gold around their neck for one of their events.
The relay was all they ever dreamed of. A strong group with Y/n leading the first leg before handing it off, giving their teammate a great start to pull a lead against the other nations. As they were walking back to the start, their heart was racing and not just from the adrenaline…but by their teammate being the first to cross the finish line. Then there was the sound of the announcer amongst the roaring crowd, “WORLD RECORD!!!” with the USA appearing beside the #1 spot.
Y/n was screaming before they could stop themselves, “Oh my god!!” knees hit the track as they sank to the ground. They couldn’t even hear themselves by the cheers. It was a spectacular moment with Y/n pulling themselves up to run and embrace their teammates and share the glory they just made. Not only were they Olympic champions but also World Record holders of the 4x100m relay.
“The United States has taken the gold here today in the 4x100m relay and a new world record has been set thanks to the extraordinary start by Y/n L/n.” “This relay group gave it their all today, John. It was such a close call coming around on the third leg, but the Americans pulled through for a stunning finish for Olympic gold.”
With an American flag in their hand, Y/n joined their teammates beside the record projection. They were teary eyed, but held off from crying because they knew the emotion would come full heartedly on the podium. And boy did it come. The second the national anthem was playing, the first tear fell from Y/n’s eyes. The medal was heavy around their neck, but it was a reminder that they achieved the goal they set out when they were six years old.
Olympic champion.
And they got to share it with their teammates—an immense honor they would cherish till the end of time.
Y/n could barely remember all that happened following the podium ceremony. After a celebration with their parents and best friend, who flew all the way out to London to support them, they had no more events and got to rest for the remainder of the games. Closing ceremonies were spectacular. One of Y/n’s favorite moments from the Beijing games was getting to mingle with athletes from the other nations during the closing ceremonies. This time around Y/n was speechless as they got to see a Spice Girls reunion and One Direction perform.
Life became chaotic to say the least following the return from London. After winning four medals including a gold, Y/n was asked by several talk show hosts to appear for an interview. They accepted a few and were immediately bombarded with questions about the little detail they slipped after winning the silver in the 400m. “You made it known to the world that you’ll be going to flight school, was it? What can you tell us about that?”
“Well during my time at Vanderbilt, where I competed for them in the NCAA—which can I say, It’s a completely different ball field when your parents are not only your coaches for international competitions but also college meets. The energy is different, especially because they’ve been there for almost two decades now and are the definition of school spirit. Anyways, while I was there I also took the route of doing their Navy ROTC program. My grandfather was a fighter pilot for the Navy and pretty much became my inspiration for wanting to fly—on top of being an athlete. It was something I thought long and hard about. I wasn’t sure if I would even make the London team and of course anything can happen, but I knew I wanted to go to fight school back when I competed in 2008. I actually will be commissioning once I’m done with all this post-Olympic press.”
The ceremony was a bittersweet moment. With their friends and family around them, Y/n was pinned on with the ranks of Ensign and named an officer of the United States Navy. From there were the challenges of balancing a career as both a professional athlete and naval aviator. Often were days of bad mental health and aches after overexertion. OTS & Flight school was intense but shaped Y/n in many ways. The first day they were recognized by a classmate resulting in the callsign, “Olympian,” after everyone would say, “Hey, Olympian!” when calling out to them after two straight days.
“Could’ve been worse,” Y/n chuckled after their parents were like, ‘really?’ when they told them. “I mean it could have been something like ‘Short-track,’ or ‘Goldilocks,’ if they thought about it. If I fucked up doing something then they would’ve named me something related to it. I’ll take Olympian cause that’s what I am.”
After completing flight school and receiving their first duty station, Y/n made the decision to hire a new coach. The World Championships were coming up and they did not want to uproot their parents while they were still the head coaches at Vanderbilt. At first they protested, but eventually relented on the condition that Y/n’s coach would be their former colleague. He was the former head coach of Vanderbilt when their parents were athletes themselves before becoming assistant coaches. “He is everything you need to bring your A-game these next seasons and Rio. I’ll make the call first thing in the morning and see what he says.”
The four years between London and Rio were brutal. The training with their new coach and balancing an aviation career showed more hardships than ever. Y/n proved themselves to be a talented pilot despite the struggles and eventually was invited in 2015 to attend the Navy’s prestigious Fighter Weapons School more commonly known as Top Gun. The same place their grandfather attended and taught at.
A hard decision had to be made when the invite came. The time period interfered with the track season and Y/n would not be able to defend their two-consecutive world titles in the 400m sprint. In the end, Y/n announced they would be pulling out from the 2015 season to attend Top Gun. They weighed out the pros and cons and felt it was the best route given the Olympics were a year away. If an injury were to occur then it could result in Y/n not even having the chance to do the trials. Their coach was frustrated in the beginning, as one would be after dominating the national and international meets for two years straight. He eventually put his differences aside to put focus on what Y/n needed to improve if they were to take the gold in Rio.
It was at Top Gun that Y/n met fellow naval aviator Natasha “Phoenix” Trace. They were seated next to each other in one of the many lecture rooms at Fightertown where Nat had to do a double take after recognition sparked in her. Nat was an athlete in high school and college who, like many, would sit with her family to watch the Olympics every four years. Though she didn’t run track, a sibling of hers did so they would always tune into the events when they came on. After seeing the patch reading ‘Olympian,’ Nat had to hold back her fangirling as the memory of her cheering when the US took gold in the 4x100m relay. ‘It has to be them.’ At the end of the lecture she approached Y/n with a shy smile, “I’m so sorry if this is weird for you, but are you Y/n L/n? I’m Natasha—Phoenix.”
They struck up a friendship during their time at Top Gun. The two bonded over their NCAA careers and sports in general. Nat admired Y/n for being able to balance being an athlete and aviator, for she made the difficult decision to not pursue her sport after college. What was ironic was they didn’t feel threatened by the other when going after the top spot in their class, considering they were both obviously competitive. Both had immense respect for the other, and didn’t care at the end of the day who came out on top. They both had similar hobbies outside of flying and would spend nights watching movies, going to the bars, or playing volleyball with their fellow pilots. It was a genuine friendship with Nat supporting Y/n even after they graduated from Top Gun both ranked #1 in their class.
Nat even took time off to attend the 2016 U.S. Track & Field Olympic Trials. There she witnessed Y/n, who she now called a best friend, qualify for their third consecutive Olympics. Nat never screamed louder in her life than when Y/n took the top spot on the team for their events. “Oh my God, you did it!” She hugged the athlete when it was all done. “Holy shit congratulations, Oly! This is it—this is gonna be your year!” Nat wouldn’t be in Rio, but promised to cheer Y/n from home.
Unfortunately the journey for the individual gold medal ended before it could even start. After qualifying for the 100m and 200m finals with the expectation of being part of the relay team once again, Y/n’s dream of gold crashed during the semifinals of the 400m.
Literally crashed.
Their signature event which had an Olympic bronze and silver to their name as well as several World titles, ended in catastrophe. As Y/n came up on the last leg with the final turn, Y/n had a tight lead against their main opponent. But before they could blink the athlete to their left tripped and fell to the side directly in front of them. Moving so fast and unable to stop to avoid the person, Y/n topped over and felt a searing pain in their side as they landed awkwardly.
Gasps rang out before the stadium fell silent with just the faint sound of cheers from the winners of the race. Y/n was panting, clutching onto their side as fire filled the entire right side of their body. The athlete who tripped was in tears and apologizing profusely. There was still adrenaline from the sprint as the arena stopped spinning around Y/n. Determined to cross the finish line, Y/n pulled themself up and helped their fellow athlete up, “It’s okay, c’mon. Let’s finish this.” They were crying and Y/n had their own tears from the pain in their side and leg, but they only had a few yards to go. Cradling their right arm, Y/n was practically limping alongside their opponent while struggling to breath. Each time they took a breath they were met with pain, not to mention each step had them wince.
They didn’t want to think of the extent of the injuries. The pain alone indicated it was bad. Y/n knew right there their Rio run was done for. Their lips trembled as the reality set in.
The athlete saw Y/n’s condition and immediately brought them to their side as they approached the finish line. Cheers and claps ignited the stadium. There was no doubt they were moved by the display of sportsmanship between two athletes from differing nations. Both with the same goal of Olympic glory that would not be delivered.
Y/n was swarmed by the medical staff. The athlete who tripped them kept apologizing, filled with guilt, embarrassment and shame causing injuries to the Olympian. They felt a little pain from falling but nothing to the extent Y/n had. They had practically gone flying forward and crash landed to avoid hitting their head hard on the track. Now that the adrenaline had finally worn off, Y/n was having to do everything to hold back from collapsing. Y/n embraced the athlete with a hug despite the multiple medics yelling at them, “Don’t blame yourself, it could have happened to anyone. Okay? I’m not angry with you at all.” It was true, Y/n wasn’t angry. Were they sad? Of course, their Olympics were totally over after being diagnosed with a fractured right arm, a bruised rib, mild concussion from hitting their head on the track, and a torn ACL in their right knee.
Commentators were speechless when the incident occurred, “Coming around the corner on the final stretch it’s a tight race between USA, Jamaica, and France—Oh! Oh no! Oh my goodness, there’s been a crash here ladies and gentleman and it doesn’t look good for the American Y/n L/n. Not at all, they are not moving—oh wait no they are getting up right now and helping the athlete from Poland. But L/n looks to be in pain they’re holding onto their arm and I can see they are having trouble jogging—a slight limp to their step. Now the Polish athlete has taken L/n under their arm and they are crossing the finish line to the cheers of the arena in a display that could only be described as what the Olympics is truly about. Great sportsmanship here folks. It’s unsure what L/n is feeling right now but one thing is certain, we will not get to see Y/n go for the gold in the 400m final.”
After the race when the NBC announcers live from Rio were in the studio recapping, they gave an update to Y/n’s situation.
“Breaking news we’ve just received on American Y/n L/n. After the unfortunate incident in tonight’s 400m semifinal, the 26-year-old from Nashville, Tennessee was rushed to the hospital after it was realized the injuries they sustained were more severe than what they thought. It’s being reported Y/n is in surgery for a fracture to their right arm and torn ligament in their right knee. It’s also been noted the athlete suffered a mild concussion as well as a bruised rib. Their coach has come out with a statement on behalf of L/n letting it be known they’ll not be competing in the 100 and 200m finals nor the 4x100 and 4x400m relays they were scheduled to compete in. L/n also has said they will remain in Rio to recover until after the conclusion of these Olympic Games before returning with their teammates to the States.
“The gold medalist in the team relay from four years ago has not said if they will be aiming for a shot at the 2020 games in Tokyo, Japan. L/n was the 2008 bronze medalist in the 400m dash before claiming silver medals in the 100, 200, and 400m in London as well as sharing the gold for the 4x100m relay. They were the leading contender for an individual gold in one of the events after dominating the 2013 and 2014 World Championships. The three-time Olympian pulled out from the 2015 season due to conflicting commitments after revealing in 2012 they were commissioned into the United States Navy following their time at Vanderbilt University. These games in Rio were their first international competition since the one year hiatus. We can only hope Y/n will continue their journey to an individual gold medal in Tokyo, but from those of us in the studio and on behalf of everyone watching at home, we wish Y/n L/n a speedy recovery and safe trip back to the States.”
It was a solemn week in Rio with Y/n sitting in a hospital bed and the games playing on the tv screen. Their coach was with them, as was their dad and together they cheered the US when they took the gold in several events including defending the 4x100m relay. The doctors in Rio gave Y/n a recovery period of nearly one year—the longest healing process being the torn knee. It would be nine months until Y/n could even jog on it, but the doctors recommended waiting a full year before testing it. PT was going to be a pain in the ass, but as long as they didn’t run or do sprints then Y/n would be able to do all else after everything else healed.
Their concussion lasted a couple weeks and the bruised rib took over a month to heal, as did the fractured arm. The 2017 worlds and nationals were out of the question. Thankfully Y/n was still able to fly once the concussion was gone and their arm was fully functional.
The entire year the athlete was unsure of what to do about Tokyo. All their focus was put into flying. Running missions instead of the track and being promoted to Lieutenant in 2018. That same year they decided to try for one more shot at Olympic gold by training for Tokyo. Their coach and parents were all too pleased—even Nat after Y/n called her up to ask for advice. They had a lot to work on since Y/n waited an extra six months after fully recovering. The 2018 season was unattainable so the goal was a comeback in the 2019 season gearing up for the 2020 Olympics.
Just like when Y/n was a child, blood, sweat, and tears were put into training. More times could they remember wanting to quit when their knee started to act up after a bad start off the blocks. They had more arguments with their coach which only fueled the fire. Lastly they were on intense missions that took a toll on their mental health. Nat would check in on them every once in a while, but Y/n brushed it off. This is what they signed up for. They made their bed, now they were to lay in it.
2019 nearly brought deja vu. The World Championships were held in Qatar at the end of September leading into October when Y/n got the call from Vice Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson.
“The Pentagon has tasked me with assembling a strike team for a special detachment. I’ve seen your record and I feel you have what it takes to be a possible member of this mission. Now I know your situation and it is my understanding you’re currently in Qatar, what time are you expected to be stateside?”
Y/n’s hands were shaking, dread filling them at the thought they would likely have to decline an assignment. But these championships were more imported. “The last day is the sixth, but if I qualify for the finals of all my events then I should be done by the fifth, sir.”
“That’s perfect,” his words had them sigh in relief. “The tentative date to report to North Island is the 24th. I’ll be emailing you the information at another time.”
“Yes, sir. I will be there. Thank you for informing me, sir.”
“Oh and Lieutenant?” Cyclone stopped them before they could end the call.
“Yes, sir?”
There’s a slight pause, “Good luck out there. Bring home the gold for us.”
And bring it home they did. In an amazing comeback after what could have been a career ending injury, Y/n L/n reclaimed their title as the world champion in the 400m dash. They fell short in the 200m, but left with the silver and even secured the gold for the team 4x100m & 4x400m relays. People called it the ‘comeback of the decade,’ and Y/n fell subject to a lot of media attention in the world of sports. Their publicist did their best to handle the press once they found out about Y/n’s upcoming commitment. “I won’t let a single soul find out about this, Y/n, I promise you. The devil works hard, but I work harder.”
Once stateside track was put on hold to prepare and partake for the special Top Gun detachment. Dressed in their service khaki’s, Y/n entered The Hard Deck for the first time in three years and was immediately tackled by Phoenix. “You’re here! Holy shit when did you get back?”
“Like two weeks ago, I’ve been chilling since Qatar since there were no assignments until this.”
“Wait, you’re here for the Top Gun detachment too?” Phoenix raised a brow before frowning, “Why didn’t you tell me the other day on the phone?”
Y/n gave the woman a look, “I wasn’t sure we could even mention it to people. Plus you didn’t say anything either, Phee.” They got her there, the pilot raising a hand as if to say, “touché”. By now they have drawn the attention of several other aviators, who all appeared amused by the display of affection by Natasha and were curious to know who it was that received it. One person, Bob, had their jaw dropped when it clicked who they were. Payback appeared to be deep in thought, like they recognized Y/n but couldn’t put a name to their face.
“Trace, you gonna introduce us to your friend?” the blonde aviator, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin said with a pool cue in hand. He was totally checking Y/n out with a settle drift of the eyes up and down. They didn’t look impressed but smiled to the others nonetheless.
Natasha brought the pilot over and proudly introduced them, “Fellas, this is Y/n L/n. Better known as ‘Olympian.’ One of the best damn pilots you’ll ever see. We both shared the honor of first in the class at Top Gun in 2015.” Nat then introduced all the guys and their callsigns, Y/n shaking each of their hands—Bob still appeared starstruck when they let go of his hand.
“Olympian, huh?” Hangman chuckled at the name, “That’s quite the callsign. What are you Greek? Or obsessed with mythology?” Rooster glared at the man, but also looked curious for the reason behind the Y/n’s callsign. Even their name sounded familiar. They had yet to see the tattoo on Y/n’s bicep, which now had the names Beijing XXIX, London XXX and Rio XXXI in tiny cursive below the rings.
Before Nat or Y/n could fire back at Jake, Bob dropped his cup of peanut shells. Everyone looked at him like, ‘what the hell, man?’ But Y/n started to smile, recognizing the shock in his face as though he had been right about something.
“S-sorry. Oh my God,” he stuttered with red cheeks, “You’re Y/n L/n. L-like THE Olympic gold medalist Y/n L/n. Oh my God I’ve watched you since 2008–since Beijing!” The revelation had shocked looks from everyone now besides Nat of course.
Payback suddenly jumped from his seat, “holy shit! I knew I recognized you from somewhere but couldn’t exactly figure it out for the life of me.” The man was stationed in London at the time of the Olympic Games and attended the night the US won gold in the relays. Now here is a member that he cheered on from the stands in front of him. “Wow, I was in London seven years ago—I-I saw you compete. This is fucking unreal.” Y/n laughed, shaking Payback’s hand. He was still coming down from the shock, having just crossed his mind that all over ESPN and Sportscenter the past month sportscasters were talking about Y/n’s comeback.
“Wait a minute,” Rooster pitched in, the memory of being in a bar the summer of 2016 played in his mind. In the same memory he remembered watching the 400m semifinals on the tv scream and gasping with everyone else when the American contender for the gold had tripped over their competitor and was out the remainder of the games. Coming closer to the scene in front of him, Rooster’s eyes caught the black ink on Y/n’s bicep. “Well I’ll be damned. You’re a pilot, a naval pilot like us? And you’re a fucking olympian?”
“Three-time to be exact, but who’s counting?” Y/n teased, causing Phoenix to chuckle and hand them a beer. All the men minus Payback and Bob, who had slight knowledge of Y/n’s career, practically had their eyes bulging. Rooster honestly thought they had just been in London and Rio. “It’s nice to meet you all. And to answer your question…Bradley, right?”
“Yeah, but please call me Rooster.” Y/n tried not to giggle at the callsign.
“Rooster, but yes I am a pilot, as our lovely Phoenix has pointed out I graduated Top Gun with her three years ago.”
“Weren’t you just in Qatar two weeks ago?” Payback asked when he remembered the World Championships in Athletics had just taken place. All over sportscenter they were talking about the comeback of the decade. “I swear I just watched you on my tv the other day during replays of the world championships.”
Y/n sipped their beer before replying with a nod, “Yeah I was. I probably wouldn’t be here if the timing wasn’t perfect.”
“That’s crazy,” Fanboy commented, still in disbelief he was speaking to an actual Olympic athlete. After hearing the stories from his fellow athletes— and doing a quick google search when no one was looking—Mickey was internally fanboying like his callsign namesake. “How have you managed to do both?”
“Lot’s of sleepless nights, determination, desire to win, and tequila on the weekends.” There were laughs at that. For the rest of the night Y/n fell into conversation with everyone. A few asked for a picture, which they were happy to do, and even signed some autographs for Bob and Fanboy. They caught up with Nat, relieved London memories with Payback and went into detail about their injuries when Rooster brought it up.
“I was at the bar with some buddies and saw that happen live. Everyone couldn’t believe it and I remember seeing you limp across the finish line with the, I think it was the Polish athlete? That’s amazing you even managed to get up after a crash like that.” Y/n was on their second beer, sitting between Bob and Coyote and across from Rooster while the others listened from the sides as they continued the game of pool.
“What were you thinking at that moment?” Javy asked with curiosity. “Did you like automatically know it was over for you?”
Y/n thought for a bit before replying, “the second I hit the track I knew my chances for the 400m were done—it was the semifinals after all. When I first felt the pain I thought it was the typical instant pain that would go away after a bit. Then when I started to move it got worse and as soon as I got up I thought, ‘yeah there’s no way I’m gonna be able to do the finals or relays.’ My chest was on fire from the bruised rib and then I could barely feel my knee once the adrenaline wore off. I probably would’ve collapsed after the finish line if they weren’t holding me up.”
‘Damns’ and ‘wows,’ rang out before Bob politely asked, “Are you going to try for the Tokyo team?”
“Yup,” they exhaled with a nervous chuckle at the end. “It’s gonna be tough I feel with how these past couple seasons have been, but I’m hoping for one final Olympics. It will be my last chance at gold—Individual gold,” they corrected before anyone could comment.
“You’re gonna retire?” Fanboy tilted his head, a little saddened at the thought. Throughout the night he had been on his phone watching replays of Y/n’s meets including their Olympic and World Championship runs. He tried not to react when he watched the 2016 400m semifinals. Now the thought of them retiring felt like a loss to the sport. It was like how he felt when Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt retired.
“Maybe not fully,” Y/n gave a small smile. “I might do one last season and a Worlds, but I don’t think I’m gonna go for the Paris Games.”
Payback came over and clapped them on the back, “Well I don’t know about these clowns but you can count on me to cheer you on next year. Hell I might even come to the trials.”
“That’s what I did in ‘16,” Phoenix cut in with a smile. “It was amazing and I’ll be in the stands again. Already planning to take time off to be there.” Y/n felt the warmth and gratitude swarm in them, “Thanks, Phee.”
What should have been three weeks of special combat training turned out to be two. The pressure was on with Y/n pushing their limit harder than ever—even exceeded that of their comeback. Never had the F-18 they’d become accustomed to flying feel like a stranger. Maverick was like their coach and Y/n made it their own personal goal to prove to him they had what it took to fly the mission.
At one point Y/n nearly pulled out as a candidate. When the details of the assignment were brought into light Y/n had to think hard about what they were doing. It was not going to be an easy mission. Not by a long shot. Ending badly was a great possibility compared to actually pulling it off. Their life was on the line.
What if they died? What if they got injured to the point they would have to medically retire? Decades of training for the Olympics would end if something horrible happened. Y/n had three to their name, an honor not everyone gets to have, but there was their chance at redemption after 2016 was now on the line.
In the end 6 of the 13 candidates were chosen and although Y/n felt a little saddened they were not chosen, there was a sense of relief. They were put on reserves and boarded the carrier for a long week ahead of them. When it was time to send off their teammates, Y/n pulled them each into a hug, letting it linger on Nat and making her promise to come back. “If worse comes to worse, L/n,” Payback said, “You better win the gold in our honor.” There were mutters of agreement from the others.
“How about you focus on coming back so you can watch me win it in your honor.”
They fulfilled the promise, because now here they were in The Hard Deck about to watch Y/n attempt to keep their side of the bargain. It was 5:15 am on Friday August 6th, 2021. The second to last day of the Games of the XXXII Olympiad held in Tokyo, Japan. And it was the finals of the 400m sprint.
Just a couple months ago in June several members of the squad including Phoenix, Payback, Rooster, Hangman, & Bob met up in Eugene, Oregon to attend the trials for the U.S Olympic Track & Field Team. Following covid precautions they wore their masks and stayed together in their own little group literally competing themselves on who could cheer the loudest. It was a bittersweet moment watching their friend and former teammate secure their place in their fourth and final Olympics. Hangman and Phoenix nearly shed a tear, the former consumed with emotion as they looked on proud at their partner waving to the crowd. Their romance was a surprise, but after the two met to catch up in March of 2020, they ended up having to go thorough lockdown together.
And well…..forced proximity can do wonders when you’re attracted to someone.
Jake wished he could be in Tokyo with Y/n, but even though it had been over a year since the virus broke out and sanctions were being uplifted there were still regulations set in stone for the Olympics. The entire event was postponed a whole year, but was still referred to as the 2020 Olympics despite being 2021. Only the athletes and coaches, which were limited to only one, were allowed to travel. Leading up to the Games, Penny had issued a vaccination verification and made the mask policy optional for those who had been fully vaccinated. She even went as far as making a limit for attendees during the week of the track and field events and had people reserve a spot in advance. She even set up screens outside for people to keep space in the building.
It was still a pretty full house and it was buzzing with excitement as it had been the whole week. Many were regulars who came every night to watch the heats, semifinals, and finals of many events but mostly people were there to watch their very own Top Gun alumni Y/n L/n. Even their parents were there—flying to San Diego to be a part of the watch party. They were already filled with nerves, Y/n’s mother was very upset she couldn’t be there in Tokyo with her child. If they won the gold it would be a bittersweet moment since her parents wouldn’t be there to celebrate in person until they returned home.
It was already a successful Games for the Olympian. The week before Y/n won the bronze in the 100m dash and 4x400 mixed relay and reclaimed the silver in the 200m. The place erupted in cheers each time with the dagger squad being the loudest. It would increase whenever the camera panned to Y/n, who was in obvious joy at racking more medals to their Olympic collection.
But now the pressure was on with one final individual event.
The 400m sprint.
Their signature event with two medals and several titles to their name.
One final shot at gold.
There would still be the relays, in which the final for the 4x100m would take place an hour after the 400m final and then the 4x400m the following night, but Y/n becoming an Olympic champion for an individual event would happen in less than fifteen minutes. The program flipped between other events while in prep for the race, often showing Y/n in the tunnel as they awaited the announcement of the finalists.
At around 5:20 all eyes were glued to the screen with someone yelling, “Turn it up!’ when the sportscasters appeared to be talking about Y/n. The pilots all had the same expression, wincing when they replayed the footage of the 2016 semifinals.
“I think we can all agree we are looking forward to this race, right Steph?”
“That’s right, John. You know, all eyes have been on Y/n L/n these Games. They have already had a great run with three medals, two bronze and a silver with three more events to go. They have quite the Olympic career since their debut in 2008 at the age of eighteen. They came up forth in the 200m in Beijing and walked away with the bronze medal in the 400m,” below the commentator was Y/n’s Olympic statistics. “Then they had a spectacular run in London where we saw them on the podium in each of their events. Silver medals in the sprints and It was their start off the blocks in the 4x100m relay that I believe is what secured the Americans the gold.”
“I agree, Steph. I can still recall that race and the emotions I felt. L/n had an amazing post-Olympic run after London—totally dominating the 2013 & 2014 seasons. Let’s not forget they were one of the top athletes in the NCAA’s during their time at Vanderbilt. I definitely believe it would have continued into 2015 if they hadn’t pulled out, but they still were the leading contender for the Rio Games. It was the height of the career I feel.” The screen was now split to showcase footage of Y/n’s 2013 & 2014 Worlds. Then it showed the heats and semifinals of Rio.
“Totally, John, they dominated the trials that year. They very well could have left Rio with more medals—quite possibly a gold in 400m which is their signature event. Everytime I rewatch the semifinals I almost have to look away at the final turn.”
“I know, it was an unfortunate incident that ended Y/n’s Olympics before they could really start. We almost didn’t know if we would even see them here in Tokyo, but after a spectacular comeback at the 2019 World Championships in Qatar, I had very high hopes we would get to this moment.”
“Me too, John, the pressure is on for the 31-year-old, let’s see if they can deliver,” the commentator turns to look at the camera with Y/n’s picture beside her, “Well it’s almost time for the 400m and it looks they are about to announce the finalists so we are going to have our crew in the stadium takeover our coverage. We will see you back here in the studio after the race and be sure to stick around because the night won’t be over for the four-time Olympian. Y/n is set to be one the four of today’s 4x100m relay final and tomorrow’s 4x400m relay.”
The screen switched to reveal the stadium, specifically the entrance tunnel where a projection would show the name and nation of the finalists. Y/n had taken the top spot in their heat and the semifinal so they would get the fourth lane on the track.
“Here we go!” Someone in the Hard Deck clapped, causing a few more people to follow. The cheers heightened when the American flag appeared above the name Y/n L/n.
First the announcement was in Japanese, then the English translator spoke through the stadium “In Lane Four, representing the United States of America, Y/n L/n!” With a shy smile, Y/n appeared from the side and walked until they were directly beneath their name. Then they turned to the camera and gave a wave followed by blowing a kiss to the screen and lastly throwing a peace sign. It must have been a little awkward without a packed stadium like the previous Games. Only a small section was filled with locals and the coaches of the athletes.
“That’s my best friend!” Nat yelled over the cheers. Several others followed the pilot, “Let’s go, Y/n!” “Bring it home!” “One last time, baby, let’s go!”
The remaining finalists were announced and took their place behind the starting blocks. When the camera panned to Y/n, their eyes were closed in a silent prayer.
“Take your mark.”
Their eyes snapped open with a shaky breath, feet carrying them to the starting blocks. Y/n did a ritual stretch down, tapping the tops of their toes with their hands before bending down to place their feet in the right position. Glancing up to the sky, Y/n said in their head, “please, give me this one moment.” Tucking their chin into their chest, Y/n waiting with anticipation like everyone else in the world watching.
It was like time slowed. “Set.” Their knees lifted off the track.
*Pop* the sound of the gun and Y/n catapulted off the blocks. Their eyes never faltered as they ahead at the track and let their legs do the work. In their peripheral they saw their opponents, the space between them slowly decreasing by the second as they pulled into the final stretch. Coming around the corner there was no one in Y/n’s sight. The finish line drew closer. Y/n didn’t know if they were in the lead by a long shot or if it was only a nanosecond.
Their heart pounded in their chest, sweat dripping from their forehead. Heaved breaths left their mouth and Y/n could feel her bad knee start to burn. But they pushed and they pushed.
All Y/n knew as they crossed the finish line was the world record flashed and their eyes snapped to the board which resulted in them screaming. As the announcer yelled through the coms, “WORLD RECORD!!” Y/n fell to their knees in tears.
#1 Y/N L/N—USA 47.50 (WR, OR)
Below their name were spots 2-8. And not only did Y/n just take the gold in their last individual event, but they also broke the World and Olympic records. Records that had been set for decades.
When Y/n finally lifted their head they were met with beaming faces of their competitors. They all congratulated the athlete, some hugging and patting their back. The world record sign was still flashing and Y/n felt another wave of emotion. This time they ran to their coach, aware the cameraman was keeping up with them to get a close look for the viewers at home.
Y/n could only imagine what it was like in Fightertown.
The second the athletes were lining up, Coyote yelled, “Everybody shut up!!” Silence filled the building, everyone’s focus on their respected screen. “Set.” *Pop* The racers were off and the commentators were already speaking frantically. “Great start off the blocks for L/n, coming around on the first turn neck and neck with the athlete from the Bahamas. Jamaica and Great Britain are not too far as they take on the long stretch of the track.”
“Go! Go!” People started to scream. Bob was biting his nails, Rooster was gripping his beer bottle. Hangman and Coyote were already off of their seats, “C’mon, Y/n! You got this!” It got louder as they approached the final turn.
“L/n is starting to pull a lead as they come up the turn, but the Bahamas are right there—this was the moment L/n’s Olympic dreams were shattered in Rio—O-oh! L/n has overtaken the Bahamas—they’ve got a huge gap as they pull into the final stretch! Oh my God we could be witnessing history—L/n is .10ths of a second ahead of the World Record and increasing their lead ahead of the others by an outstanding margin!”
“Let’s go!!!” The commentators' words were barely there as it competed with the uproar of spectators in the Hard Deck. Everyone was pretty much out of their seats and jumping as they watched Y/n’s lead increase with each step to the finish line. “You’re almost there!! Go! Go! Go!”
Then it exploded.
“THEY’VE DONE IT! Y/N L/n has won the gold for America!! They smashed the Olympic record and set the World record for the 400m dash by .10 of a second at these Olympic Games in Tokyo!”
“OH MY GOD!!!” Phoenix and several others screamed. She and Halo embraced in a hug with Nat covering her mouth to hold back her emotion when the screen showed Y/n screaming out to the sky before falling to their knees. The guys were all jumping around, Rooster and Payback embraced in a side hug, pulling Jake who was pretty much in tears as he watched the display of his partner.
“After heartbreak four years ago in Rio that put them out of a chance for the gold, Y/n L/n has come out on top in Tokyo. They can finally add Olympic Champion to their name as well as Olympic and World record holder of the 400m dash. In what could be the last time we see Y/n L/n in an Olympic Games, they have achieved what they set out to do since their debut in Beijing 13 years ago. What a stunning finish to a beautiful Olympic career in the sport of track and field.”
Y/n’s parents were clenched in each other’s arms, eyes rimmed as their own tears poured. They were filled with so much happiness for their child and wished nothing more to be in the crowd and share this moment with them. At the bar top Warlock, Hondo, and Maverick were high-fiving while Cyclone clapped along with a smile. Penny rang the bell simply to join the cheers.
It was truly spectacular to witness. The slow motion replay was on the screen followed by the Y/n’s reaction when they looked up to find their name on the board. The cheers kept going and only started to quiet down when TV showed the athlete in their post race interview. “Y/n, what a night here tonight. Congratulations are in store, you have not only taken an individual gold but also the World record—and the Olympic record! It’s your fourth medal in these Games, the first gold—how are you feeling right now after this victory?”
Everyone hushed to listen, but were grinning wide and some were wiping away tears. Y/n’s face was flushed, still coming off of the high of what had just happened. “O-oh I can’t even put it into words how I’m feeling right now,” there was a slight sniff, Y/n using their finger to wipe their face but was careful not to let the material of the American flag draped around their shoulders touch their skin.
“This is a dream come true. It has been a long journey to get here and I-I am so honored to have been a part of this team for as long as I have. You know after the 100 & 200 I didn’t want to have my hopes too high because as you can see anything can happen in these Games,” Y/n chuckled, eyes glossy, “I think I may have actually blacked out on the last stretch. I just kept my focus on the finish line and was just as amazed to see I had broken the records.”
The title card on the screen now showed: Y/n L/n, Gold Medalist, 400m (WR, OR: 47.50).
“Your friends and family have all gathered in San Diego—they’re watching right now and we actually got footage of their reaction to your win tonight. We’d love to show you if you like.”
“Oh God please,” Y/n was already giggling. The assistant brought over an ipad with a video and pressed play. On the tv screens the image split to show the video beside Y/n’s face to capture their own reaction. They saw the daggers squad in front of the bar while their superiors including Maverick were seated at the bar top. They were all surrounded by servicemen and women as well as civilians. Y/n teared up when they spotted their parents near Jake. By the end of it Y/n was basically crying while laughing. “Oh my God, that is amazing. I wish they could’ve been in the stands. I know my parents are probably thinking how the one time they can’t see me compete in person is when I win.”
The reporter laughed along with them. “I know I gotta let you go cause you’re set to race the relay in less than an hour and the podium ceremony is about to start, but before you go I just want to ask if this is the last time we’ll see you after these Games conclude Sunday night.”
Y/n softly smiled to the reporter, bottom lip slightly trembling, “uhh, you know I wasn’t completely sure. Since Rio I’ve had some troubles with my knee after the torn ACL—I almost wasn’t sure about these Games until 2018. I’ve been talking to Allison Felix these past couple days, since this is gonna be her last Games. Her and I have been part of Team USA for 13 years now and she’s become not only a mentor but a friend to me and i’m going to miss seeing her at competitions. I know I plan to do the 2022 season—especially the Worlds. Paris is only three-years away,” they shrugged, like they were considering it, “I’ll be thirty-four when it comes around so it’s really gonna come down to how I’m feeling after 2022.”
“Well I hope to see you again in Paris, but if not then it was truly a pleasure watching you these years. You’ve been an inspiration to many watching back home in the States. Congratulations again on this win and we can’t wait to see you bring it in the relays. Good luck again tonight.”
“Thank you so so much. I appreciate it and much love to everyone back home—thank you for all the support, especially my mom and dad, my coach, and my friends in Fightertown who I know are probably losing their minds. I love you all and I couldn't have got this gold without each and every one of you. Thank you,” Y/n shakes their hand and blows a kiss to the camera before following the volunteer to locker rooms to change for the podium ceremony.
Just like in London, Y/n was nearly a mess on the podium when the gold medal was presented to them. Per covid regulations, the athlete had to place it around their own neck instead of how it was at previous games with someone else doing the honor. Still, it held everything to Y/n.
They were an Olympic champion.
Tears streaked their face when the national anthem played and when it concluded Y/n kissed the medal and waved to the crowd of spectators that included the media and athletes from other countries. The rest of Team USA’s track athletes were there too, cheering the loudest as some of them have been Y/n’s teammates for over a decade. After pictures with the other medalists Y/n was rushed to get ready for the relay that was to start in 20 minutes. At the Hard Deck it was an emotional scene watching the podium ceremony. Jake and Nat were embraced, looking on with glossy eyes while everyone beamed at the screen. Y/n’s parents were with them too. It was bittersweet.
20 minutes later they were in cheers once again when Team USA took the silver in the 4x100m relay. Y/n kick started it off like they did in London, but this time fell short to second place by a smudge. It still was a celebration with Y/n adding another silver medal to their personal Tokyo medal count. It was passed one in the morning in Tokyo when Y/n FaceTimed Jake after the podium ceremony. They were met with shouts of joy from everyone in proximity that it was hard to even make out the individual voices.
“You fucking did it!!”
“Congratulations, Lightning McQueen, you were amazing!”
“Holy shit, Olympic gold!”
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Y/n. I wish I could hug you right now.”
The call was brief but wholesome with Y/n thanking the entire squad for their support and they loved watching their reaction to the race. Jake spoke on behalf of the others with the promise to celebrate the second Y/n returned to San Diego in three days. After goodbyes and a quick chat with their parents, Y/n ended the call to get much needed sleep for their final race the next day. The Hard Deck cleared out soon after with many calling it a day.
It was the same scene the next morning at 5:30 am to watch the final of the 4x400m relay. “It is the final day in these Olympic Games after a spectacular two weeks in Tokyo. Many firsts have been made. There are just a few events to get through tonight before closing ceremonies tomorrow evening. All eyes are now on the finals of the 4x400m relay. And boy is there a lineup tonight with the Americans looking to defend with a seventh-straight title.”
“It’s going to be an interesting finals tonight, Mark. Like you mentioned, the US have retained the title of Olympic champions in this event since the 1996 Games in Atlanta. They are unstoppable and this is the first time Y/n L/n is part of the group. They won the gold in London for the 4x100 and just last night took silver in the event. Four years ago in Rio they were set to be on both the 4x100 and 4x400, but after a tragic semi finals that ended with a torn ACL, L/n had to pull out of Games.”
On the screen the team was announced with all four athletes appearing from the side. Together they did a little dance for the cameras before going to the track. “I’m interested to see how L/n does tonight and if they can pull through. This event is truly a team effort and unlike last night, L/n is set to anchor the Americans in the final pass rather than starting. They just won the gold in the 400m last night in a stunning record breaking finish—I’m still in disbelief.”
The Hard Deck painted a familiar picture as the previous morning. The Daggers were on the edge of their seats when the race started and Penny stopped taking orders when the third pass began. The camera was split to show Y/n taking their spot on the track to await the baton. Then the screen went back to one when the American came up on the last turn. “Here comes the final pass of the bottom in the final leg of this 4x400 relay. Poland and Jamaica are not far behind, but the Americans have given Y/n L/n a lead—and there they go! Beautiful pass from teammate to teammate and Y/n L/n is off to hopefully bring the US their seventh consecutive gold.”
“C’mon, baby, let’s go!!” Jake yelled, the others echoing his cheers. At the bar patrons were clapping the surface.
“They’re gonna get it—look at the lead!”
“It’s not over yet.”
“Let’s go, Y/n, you’re almost there!” The athlete increased the distance between them and the polish on the stretch coming into the final turn. The cheers got louder and louder with many already celebrating when it was obvious the Polish were not gonna catch up. The announcers knew it too.
“Poland has overtaken Jamaica but it will not be enough for Olympic glory—Y/n L/n has increased the margin their teammates had given them and has no doubt secured them the gold! All there is left to do is cross the finish line and the Americans have done it again! L/n has finished the job and given Team USA their seventh straight gold medal in the 4x400m relay!!” The last line was in tune with Y/n crossing the finish line. A large smile plastered on their face as a cry of joy left them that the camera managed to capture. Their teammates met them in the middle with the four embracing in cheers.
The Hard Deck exploded again when Y/n crossed the finish line, matching their reaction as though they were the ones who just won the gold for their country. They couldn’t wait for Tuesday when Y/n came home and they could celebrate the big wins together. Jake was really excited especially after having a heart-to-heart with Y/n’s father. The ring was safely tucked away in his suitcase as a reminder of what he had planned for his Olympian.
The rest of the daggers, including Mav and Hondo ended up staying an extra hour after the podium ceremony to celebrate their friend. Many were still in disbelief, but filled with absolute joy. Who wouldn’t really? They had just witnessed their friend win their sixth medal in a single Olympics. Something uncommon for even athletes who qualify for multiple events.
But Y/n did it.
They left Tokyo with two bronze, two silver, and two gold. In four Olympics Y/n started from a single bronze in their debut to their first team gold in London, leaving with nothing in Rio to finally medaling in every event they raced in Tokyo. Their first individual gold after thirteen years of hard work and dedication to rise to the top since they sat in the stands of the Centennial Olympic Stadium.
It was a golden end to an Olympic dream 25 years in the making.
Or so they thought…..
When the stars painted Paris on the night of August 11th, 2024, the final night of the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, Y/n L/n waved to the crowd in a bittersweet goodbye as they wore the Stars and Stripes one final time. It was hard to hear over the roar of spectators from all over the world. Not a single seat had been empty for the final race of Y/n L/n’s career. Athletes from other disciplines attended, some in tears by the overwhelming emotion of the moment.
“It is an emotional scene here tonight in the Stade de France as we say goodbye to Y/n L/n of the United States. There isn’t a dry eye in sight as spectators and athletes from around the globe watch the five-time Olympian take their final bow after winning the gold with the Americans in the 4x400m relay in their eighth consecutive title. In what could be described as the greatest Olympic run a track athlete has ever done, Y/n L/n has achieved the impossible in Paris with six gold medals in six events. Never has an Olympian taken the gold in the 100, 200, 400m, and all three team relays in a single Olympics, but Y/n L/n has made history. They are also the second Olympian and only American to win gold in the 100, 200, and 400m in a single Olympic Games.”
Y/n walked the track with a cameraman following them, hand that was not waving patting their chest where their heart laid. The hand now had a gold wedding band and Tokyo XXXII and Paris XXXIII added to the bicep tattoo. Y/n’s teammates that they just won the gold with had stood to the side, clapping with the crowd with American flags draped around their shoulder and tears cascading their cheeks.
Y/n finally made it to the section where the majority of Americans who had traveled from the States were seated in a sea of red, white, and blue. Y/e/c went straight to the front few rows and were immediately met with the sight of not only their parents beaming faces, but the ones of their closest friends. None of them were hiding their emotion. Phoenix was embraced by Rooster, the two wiping away at their faces as was Bob. Fanboy and Coyote were teary eyed while Payback just nodded with a bright grin, bringing his fingers up to whistle. Even Maverick, who was now retired from the Navy, was in attendance looking like a proud father.
And Jake? Jake was a mess.
His green eyes were pretty much bloodshot but there was love and admiration in his gaze. His own wedding band reflected under the stadium lights and he made the motion of catching the kiss Y/n blew to him before placing it on his heart. All he wanted to do was jump over the railing and hug his spouse, but unfortunately that would have to wait until after the podium ceremony.
The extinguishing of the Olympic torch at the closing ceremonies would signal the start of Y/n’s retirement from the world of athletics. It would close one chapter, but the other was still in progress. There was still time for them to be the best of the best in terms of naval aviators. They were not even halfway into their Naval career.
And they were totally up for the challenge, because nothing is impossible when going for the gold.
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fleabagflu · 2 years
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Jealously, Jealously
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pairing(s): jake seresin x plus!sized reader x bradley bradshaw; dagger squad, platonic!
synopsis: as a joke, your financé’s like to flirt with you on the nights you bartender at your mom’s bar. your father, maverick, with the rest of the TOPGUN family; all have become annoyed which only encourages you all further. tonight, however, is a different story when your family notices two boys who can’t take the hint to leave you alone. tonight, your boys flirt with you out of jealously and possessiveness.
warning(s): unwanted flirting from a stranger, jakebradley being guard dogs and whores, sexual innuendos, poly, happy/fluffy ending, minor angst, cursing!
word count: 1411!
authors note: ok so this idea came to me in a brillant moment as i was trying to fall asleep the other night. i finally found time to write it and i’m actually pretty happy with it! also, side note, the reader is the older daughter of pete & penny, which also means that maverick and penny with both be a little bit more parental and mad when the unwanted flirting is directed towards their daughter!
this gif is not mine and was found on another imagine. if someone knows the creator please let me know so i can give them proper credit!
much love babies! leni <3
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wattpad! pinterest! spotify!
jupiter by matt maltese!
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Tonight had begun the same as always.
You were stationed behind the bar with a damp blue rag tossed over your clothed shoulder. Your mother, Penny, had been curled up next to your dad over in the back; watching the ongoing pool match between the two teams. It was the same as every night, Jake, Bradley, and Coyote VS Bob, Phoenix, and Payback. Fanboy, Omaha, Fritz, Harvard, and Yale had decided to be at tables; ice beers staining the bar tops below.
Of course the boys had been engrossed in their game, but at the sight of you, Jake ‘accidentally’ smacked Bradley and both ended up directing their eyes to you. You were a natural at talking to people. Smiles given as customers tucked bills underneath of glasses.
“Can’t you spent five minutes without eyefucking her?”
Jake grinned at Natasha’s deadpan, aiming the pool cue at his target. Bradley took a different approach and rolled his eyes. Pete grimaced, taking a drink of his beer before placing a quick kiss on Penny’s forehead.
“Please don’t talk about them eyefucking my daughter.”
The group laughed, chuckles that echoed over the music coming from the jukebox. Your eyes found their in a moment. The tingle that ran up your spine had you grinning, a permanent scrunch settling between your eyes.
Penny slapped his chest. “You know they are getting married! Besides, I think it’s cute!”
Jake and Bradley raised their beers. A small clink followed. The boys watched as Bob sunk the eight ball, sighing to themselves. They hated fucking losing.
As a rematch began, all of their eyes had been drawn to the green table. Deciding against leaving the crowded bar to the two boys on the other end, you moved down, taking the busiest spot. In hindsight, you really shouldn’t have.
“Hi sweetheart.”
Your eyebrow quirked up, the grin you wore immediately leaving. The man in front of you was average height and of average build. He was not one of your boys.
“Awe come on. Don’t pout baby.”
Another boy settled on his side. Both stood together, seemingly matching polos. A group of people you only assumed were their friends stood behind, all wearing grins and cologne. You wanted to puke.
You never wanted to cause trouble. Deciding to avoid drama, you simply ask the question that has fallen from your lips a million times. “What can I get you?”
The boy on the left had a predatory smile. You felt uneasy.
“How about you in the back?”
Your mouth gaped open like a fish. You unconsciously pulled down the sweatshirt that covered your thighs, desperately trying to shield your bare legs.
“Lost for words baby?”
That seemed to snap you out of your stupor. You brought up your hand, the big dimond reflecting the fluorescents. Their eyes dropped down to it but they didn’t seem to take the hint.
Right-boy simply leaned on the bar. You could smell weed and vodka on his breath. You gagged.
“Come on, let me treat you right.”
This time, you laughed. His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled back. You stared back at him, erupting in a fit of laughter again. There was no way in hell. 
Devon, Penny’s oldest bartender, had escorted himself towards your parents. He had overheard the conversation, and knowing you wouldn’t say anything, decided to take matters into his own hands. He approached from the side, holding three more beers in his hands.
“These two guys are harassing Y/N.”
Jake shot up at the statement, Bradley squeezing his beer till his knuckles turned white. Heads swiveled in your direction, watching as you forcefully slammed your ring-clad hand down and cursing falling from your lips. Maverick jumped up, Penny not far behind, Jake, Bradley, and the rest of the group slowly making their way over to you. You were their girl, their daughter, their family. All of them wanted to protect you.
You had been so engrossed in trying not to freak out, you didn’t notice the group slowly making their way towards you. Today, they had dressed in half casuals, all of them in their khaki pants but civilian shirts. They blended right in with the crowd.
“Come on, I can make you feel so good.”
You wanted to throw an insult at left-boy but were interrupted by your father intervening.
“Don’t ever fucking say that again.”
Penny’s hands were drawn in fists while both Jake and Bradley were attempting to not take the two down. They had stood behind your father, flanking his sides while your mother was pressed into your father’s side. The rest of TOPGUN stood their ground behind. Without saying a word, Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback came around from the other side. Essentially, they blocked them in.
Not taking the point, right-boy looked him up and down. Scoffing, he yanked his shoulder from the mans tight grip. “Shut up. We were just talking,” his head turned towards you, “weren’t we sweetheart.”
Jake saw red.
Pete backed off, knowing Jake and Bradley could handle it. The blonde man approached slowly, an anger burning in his eyes that had you warm to your core. You suddenly exhaled the breathe you held. I’m ok.
His face was deathly calm as he spoke. “Don’t you ever, ever, talk to her again.”
If the boys were nervous, they didn’t show it. Jake didn’t back up, simply staring down at the polo’s they wore. Deciding against saying anything but also wanting to convey so much, you settled for something simple.
Without uttering one word, you bent down and plucked Jake’s hat from it’s spot below the bar. Normally, when it came time for the “final act,” Jake would sneak past the bar and place his hat over your hair, claiming you. Bradley has his own way, wrapping his Hawaiian shirt over your shoulders. This time, all you did was put the cowboy hat on the bar, smirking widely at the strangers’ shocked faces.
Jake, with what came second nature, grabbed the cowboy hat and the boys watched as you leaned across the bar so he could place it on you. Your expression was love-struck, cheeks cherry red, and a sweet smile on your lips. Jake was calm, Bradley quickly taking off his Hawaiian shirt and throwing it towards you. You slipped into it easily. You grinned at the shocked boys.
Before anyone could say anything, a boy from the back asked, “Both?”
“Mhm.” You nodded, holding out your hands for Jake and Bradley to grab. They immediately did, slipping their hands into yours. “You should leave now.”
Left boy shook his head. “Your such a fucking tease. Such a brat.”
To be fair, you knew what was coming. Really, everyone knew what was coming.
No one flinched as Jake pounced on him, Bradley holding the other guy back. Maverick threw a punch for fun one and Penny and Phoenix threw open the front doors. The bar chanted overboard, Jake and Coyote yanking up left-boy while Bradley and Payback followed with the second. Bob, Fanboy, Yale, and Harvard shooed the others out behind. You didn’t know what happened outside, but a smile broke out on your face anyway. You knew deep down, you would always be protected.
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Hours later, Jake and Bradley had you squished between them on your couch.
Your dogs were on the L-section, all of your boys not letting you out of their sight. Expedition Unknown had been playing on a tv. Your smile was wide, head on Jake’s lap as your legs were thrown over Bradley’s. They both kept themselves content, grounding themselves at the feeling of you.
“You know we love you right?”
You hummed back. Eyes fluttering closed as a kiss was gently placed on your calf.
Bradley added onto Jake’s earlier statement. “We would never let anything happen to you.”
You left Jake’s lap momentarily and ignored his protests.
“Loves, I know.” Smiles crossed their lips. “I always will chosen you.”
You resumed your previous postion. You missed the way their eyes met, and a conformation of their love passed through. They would die without you. You were their glue. They would do anything for you. And as scary as it sounded, Jake and Bradley couldn’t be more ready.
For the rest of the night, your boys watched as you emersed yourself in Expedition Unknown; making Blue, Crunch, and Shaggy (your dogs) join you; and eventually falling asleep in the comfort of your boys arms.
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extra notes!
thanks for reading loves! i hope you enjoyed!
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The cul-de-sac Squad-Part 1/?
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Summary: This is going to be a series of Headcanons and Imagines of the Dagger Squad living in a cul-de-sac together. This part is just an intro into everyones life.
Pairings: uhm a lot.
Warnings: Death.
Word Count: 186
~They all stayed in California since the Uranium Mission. 
~They’ve all had promotions and whatnot. 
~Now onto the kids and stuff.
~Fanboy has twins Miquel and Leah that are 5.
~His wife sadly passed away in labor.   
~Payback has 2 sons and a daughter with his wife. 
~13 year old Jeremy, 10 year old Rueben jr. and 1 year old Cara. 
~Phoenix and Bob are fur parents with their girlfriend. 
~They have 4 dogs. 
~Greg, Daphne, Steve and Juniper. 
~Rooster and Hangman have a son Nick who is 5 that they had through a surrogate. 
~They have a service dog Dash.
~Fritz is single. 
~He stays in the guest house at Rooster and Hangman's house.
~Halo and her husband adopted a daughter Lila who is 6. 
~Omaha and his husband have 4 year old triplets Emmett, Felix and Diana. 
~Harvard has 2 daughters 6 and 3 with his wife Violet and Harper. 
~Yale's girlfriend is pregnant and they are waiting to find out the gender. 
~Coyote and his Fiancé decided they didn’t want any children of their own. 
~Instead they have 2 cats. 
~Darell and Abby.
Tags:@wkndwlff
A/N:If anyone has any ideas or requests for this series let me know! This is just a silly little idea I came up with this morning and I figured I'd run with it. Please please please leave comments and reblog!!
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December 9th: sleigh with sails
Throughout the night Aouda, full of sad forebodings, her heart stifled with anguish, wandered about on the verge of the plains. Her imagination carried her far off, and showed her innumerable dangers. What she suffered through the long hours it would be impossible to describe.
Fix remained stationary in the same place, but did not sleep. Once a man approached and spoke to him, and the detective merely replied by shaking his head.
Thus the night passed. At dawn, the half-extinguished disc of the sun rose above a misty horizon; but it was now possible to recognise objects two miles off. Phileas Fogg and the squad had gone southward; in the south all was still vacancy. It was then seven o’clock.
The captain, who was really alarmed, did not know what course to take.
Should he send another detachment to the rescue of the first? Should he sacrifice more men, with so few chances of saving those already sacrificed? His hesitation did not last long, however. Calling one of his lieutenants, he was on the point of ordering a reconnaissance, when gunshots were heard. Was it a signal? The soldiers rushed out of the fort, and half a mile off they perceived a little band returning in good order.
Mr. Fogg was marching at their head, and just behind him were Passepartout and the other two travellers, rescued from the Sioux.
They had met and fought the Indians ten miles south of Fort Kearney. Shortly before the detachment arrived, Passepartout and his companions had begun to struggle with their captors, three of whom the Frenchman had felled with his fists, when his master and the soldiers hastened up to their relief.
All were welcomed with joyful cries. Phileas Fogg distributed the reward he had promised to the soldiers, while Passepartout, not without reason, muttered to himself, “It must certainly be confessed that I cost my master dear!”
Fix, without saying a word, looked at Mr. Fogg, and it would have been difficult to analyse the thoughts which struggled within him. As for Aouda, she took her protector’s hand and pressed it in her own, too much moved to speak.
Meanwhile, Passepartout was looking about for the train; he thought he should find it there, ready to start for Omaha, and he hoped that the time lost might be regained.
“The train! the train!” cried he.
“Gone,” replied Fix.
“And when does the next train pass here?” said Phileas Fogg.
“Not till this evening.”
“Ah!” returned the impassible gentleman quietly.
Phileas Fogg found himself twenty hours behind time. Passepartout, the involuntary cause of this delay, was desperate. He had ruined his master!
At this moment the detective approached Mr. Fogg, and, looking him intently in the face, said:
“Seriously, sir, are you in great haste?”
“Quite seriously.”
“I have a purpose in asking,” resumed Fix. “Is it absolutely necessary that you should be in New York on the 11th, before nine o’clock in the evening, the time that the steamer leaves for Liverpool?”
“It is absolutely necessary.”
“And, if your journey had not been interrupted by these Indians, you would have reached New York on the morning of the 11th?”
“Yes; with eleven hours to spare before the steamer left.”
“Good! you are therefore twenty hours behind. Twelve from twenty leaves eight. You must regain eight hours. Do you wish to try to do so?”
“On foot?” asked Mr. Fogg.
“No; on a sledge,” replied Fix. “On a sledge with sails. A man has proposed such a method to me.”
It was the man who had spoken to Fix during the night, and whose offer he had refused.
Phileas Fogg did not reply at once; but Fix, having pointed out the man, who was walking up and down in front of the station, Mr. Fogg went up to him. An instant after, Mr. Fogg and the American, whose name was Mudge, entered a hut built just below the fort.
There Mr. Fogg examined a curious vehicle, a kind of frame on two long beams, a little raised in front like the runners of a sledge, and upon which there was room for five or six persons. A high mast was fixed on the frame, held firmly by metallic lashings, to which was attached a large brigantine sail. This mast held an iron stay upon which to hoist a jib-sail. Behind, a sort of rudder served to guide the vehicle. It was, in short, a sledge rigged like a sloop. During the winter, when the trains are blocked up by the snow, these sledges make extremely rapid journeys across the frozen plains from one station to another. Provided with more sails than a cutter, and with the wind behind them, they slip over the surface of the prairies with a speed equal if not superior to that of the express trains.
Mr. Fogg readily made a bargain with the owner of this land-craft. The wind was favourable, being fresh, and blowing from the west. The snow had hardened, and Mudge was very confident of being able to transport Mr. Fogg in a few hours to Omaha. Thence the trains eastward run frequently to Chicago and New York. It was not impossible that the lost time might yet be recovered; and such an opportunity was not to be rejected.
Not wishing to expose Aouda to the discomforts of travelling in the open air, Mr. Fogg proposed to leave her with Passepartout at Fort Kearney, the servant taking upon himself to escort her to Europe by a better route and under more favourable conditions. But Aouda refused to separate from Mr. Fogg, and Passepartout was delighted with her decision; for nothing could induce him to leave his master while Fix was with him.
It would be difficult to guess the detective’s thoughts. Was this conviction shaken by Phileas Fogg’s return, or did he still regard him as an exceedingly shrewd rascal, who, his journey round the world completed, would think himself absolutely safe in England? Perhaps Fix’s opinion of Phileas Fogg was somewhat modified; but he was nevertheless resolved to do his duty, and to hasten the return of the whole party to England as much as possible.
At eight o’clock the sledge was ready to start. The passengers took their places on it, and wrapped themselves up closely in their travelling-cloaks. The two great sails were hoisted, and under the pressure of the wind the sledge slid over the hardened snow with a velocity of forty miles an hour.
The distance between Fort Kearney and Omaha, as the birds fly, is at most two hundred miles. If the wind held good, the distance might be traversed in five hours; if no accident happened the sledge might reach Omaha by one o’clock.
What a journey! The travellers, huddled close together, could not speak for the cold, intensified by the rapidity at which they were going. The sledge sped on as lightly as a boat over the waves. When the breeze came skimming the earth the sledge seemed to be lifted off the ground by its sails. Mudge, who was at the rudder, kept in a straight line, and by a turn of his hand checked the lurches which the vehicle had a tendency to make. All the sails were up, and the jib was so arranged as not to screen the brigantine. A top-mast was hoisted, and another jib, held out to the wind, added its force to the other sails. Although the speed could not be exactly estimated, the sledge could not be going at less than forty miles an hour.
“If nothing breaks,” said Mudge, “we shall get there!”
Mr. Fogg had made it for Mudge’s interest to reach Omaha within the time agreed on, by the offer of a handsome reward.
The prairie, across which the sledge was moving in a straight line, was as flat as a sea. It seemed like a vast frozen lake. The railroad which ran through this section ascended from the south-west to the north-west by Great Island, Columbus, an important Nebraska town, Schuyler, and Fremont, to Omaha. It followed throughout the right bank of the Platte River. The sledge, shortening this route, took a chord of the arc described by the railway. Mudge was not afraid of being stopped by the Platte River, because it was frozen. The road, then, was quite clear of obstacles, and Phileas Fogg had but two things to fear—an accident to the sledge, and a change or calm in the wind.
But the breeze, far from lessening its force, blew as if to bend the mast, which, however, the metallic lashings held firmly. These lashings, like the chords of a stringed instrument, resounded as if vibrated by a violin bow. The sledge slid along in the midst of a plaintively intense melody.
“Those chords give the fifth and the octave,” said Mr. Fogg.
These were the only words he uttered during the journey. Aouda, cosily packed in furs and cloaks, was sheltered as much as possible from the attacks of the freezing wind. As for Passepartout, his face was as red as the sun’s disc when it sets in the mist, and he laboriously inhaled the biting air. With his natural buoyancy of spirits, he began to hope again. They would reach New York on the evening, if not on the morning, of the 11th, and there were still some chances that it would be before the steamer sailed for Liverpool.
Passepartout even felt a strong desire to grasp his ally, Fix, by the hand. He remembered that it was the detective who procured the sledge, the only means of reaching Omaha in time; but, checked by some presentiment, he kept his usual reserve. One thing, however, Passepartout would never forget, and that was the sacrifice which Mr. Fogg had made, without hesitation, to rescue him from the Sioux. Mr. Fogg had risked his fortune and his life. No! His servant would never forget that!
While each of the party was absorbed in reflections so different, the sledge flew past over the vast carpet of snow. The creeks it passed over were not perceived. Fields and streams disappeared under the uniform whiteness. The plain was absolutely deserted. Between the Union Pacific road and the branch which unites Kearney with Saint Joseph it formed a great uninhabited island. Neither village, station, nor fort appeared. From time to time they sped by some phantom-like tree, whose white skeleton twisted and rattled in the wind. Sometimes flocks of wild birds rose, or bands of gaunt, famished, ferocious prairie-wolves ran howling after the sledge. Passepartout, revolver in hand, held himself ready to fire on those which came too near. Had an accident then happened to the sledge, the travellers, attacked by these beasts, would have been in the most terrible danger; but it held on its even course, soon gained on the wolves, and ere long left the howling band at a safe distance behind.
About noon Mudge perceived by certain landmarks that he was crossing the Platte River. He said nothing, but he felt certain that he was now within twenty miles of Omaha. In less than an hour he left the rudder and furled his sails, whilst the sledge, carried forward by the great impetus the wind had given it, went on half a mile further with its sails unspread.
It stopped at last, and Mudge, pointing to a mass of roofs white with snow, said: “We have got there!”
Arrived! Arrived at the station which is in daily communication, by numerous trains, with the Atlantic seaboard!
Passepartout and Fix jumped off, stretched their stiffened limbs, and aided Mr. Fogg and the young woman to descend from the sledge. Phileas Fogg generously rewarded Mudge, whose hand Passepartout warmly grasped, and the party directed their steps to the Omaha railway station.
The Pacific Railroad proper finds its terminus at this important Nebraska town. Omaha is connected with Chicago by the Chicago and Rock Island Railroad, which runs directly east, and passes fifty stations.
A train was ready to start when Mr. Fogg and his party reached the station, and they only had time to get into the cars. They had seen nothing of Omaha; but Passepartout confessed to himself that this was not to be regretted, as they were not travelling to see the sights.
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hangmanssunnies · 2 years
Note
ok so for coyote i have a lot of thoughts on little things he would do:
this man is the BEST hugger, i literally can’t explain it but he just gives bear hug vibes all around
javy has a boisterous laugh and it fills up the room and he was never insecure about it until an ex of his pointed out that maybe it was too loud and he just shied away but jake gets this man laughing and it isn’t until a while in that he hears his laugh like javy’s REAL laugh and it’s annoying at times but this man will smack the shit out of you while laughing so everyone knows to keep away from him
his favorite color is either khaki or green because he’s used to seeing himself in those colors. ooh side note he definitely knows how to iron and sew and cook because there is no way in hell his mother would let him leave the house to join the navy without knowing basic skills
javy can sing idk just something about him gives me softly mumbling and then bursting into song with jake in his truck because circus by britney spears came on the radio
javy gives me coffee heavy with milk rather than dark coffee vibes and also he just cannot have it iced because it throws him off his game (jake probably bought some for them to try at some coffee shop and javy went ballistic with energy or something)
he honestly gives me half spanish speaking household and he sometimes talks with mickey in spanish and they bond over hoe they grew up
javy was a late bloomer!!!!!! no i can’t explain but imagine going to his childhood home and it’s just bam younger, scrawny javy who hasn’t grown into his body yet smiling at you with a tooth missing
javy smells like cinammon and something warm and oranges? just because he doesn’t give me irish spring vibes / mint like jake or like woodsy like bradley?
he FOUGHT with the rest of the guys on the team besides mickey, reuben, omaha, and fritz to introduce them to something that wasn’t 3 in 1 because once he found out he was disgusted
ok that’s it for now and best of luck! <3
COYOTE AND HANGMAN BESTIE SUPREMACY!!!!!
I loved every one of these sooooo much omg. Thank you for sharing them!!
You said Javy and late bloomer .... *cue Taylor Swift music* .... AND EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED.
Javy is totally a capable man, and that includes having a decently normal skincare routine. He is fighting demons, trying to get some of his squad mates to understand the value of some dry oil or lotion.
We certainly know he can hit the high notes when singing. 🤭
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sebsxphia · 2 years
Note
the other anon said bob was a middle child & that made sm sense so here are the others out of boredom:
jake: he’s the youngest child, just like me fr, he thrives off of chaos & seeks attention whenever he can get it. it’s probably a little bit of a trauma response for him, i imagine his dad didn’t give him the same amount of attention his older siblings (who i see as 3 girls) got & that’s why he’s gutted when mav picks rooster as his wingman. he views javy as a brother but also views bradley as one, it’s just bradley is the one he competes with lol.
bradley: he’s an only child which is canon & it makes sense since he can sometimes just not tell people things. like when he didn’t mention to nat he was coming back to san diego & she hit him with the pool stick. he sees natasha as a sister in a way & jake as a brother but not to the extent jake sees him as a brother. (if goose & carole lived he def would’ve been an older brother which makes a lot of sense bc he’s pretty protective of everyone)
natasha: definitely older sister vibes. but like a big gap between her and her siblings, i’m talking 6-12 years. she could’ve raised some of them when she was younger, she has the best advice when u need it too. she was rlly happy when she met bradley & he was older than her, it’s like she finally got to have an older sibling (even though she’s the one watching him half the time)
bob: obviously a middle child. a lot of people see middle children as the “troublemakers” when it’s actually the youngest (jake for example). he knows when to stand up for himself & others (when jake made the comment abt nat not being a good pilot since she was a woman) but also knows when it’s best to ignore others.
fanboy: he’s the second youngest, 1 of 5. definitely chaotic like jake but not as chaotic if u get what i mean. he likes to talk abt things he likes and focus the attention on that instead of himself.
javy: he’s the oldest but he’s only got one sister & she’s a year younger so there’s not really much of a gap. sure he can be protective of others but he has more twin (or irish twin in this case) energy. he also sees jake as a brother since he had none, similar to why jake sees him as a brother.
payback: definitely older brother vibes, 2 younger sisters & a younger brother. he takes this role pretty seriously and acts the same way with his siblings he does with the squad. (i don’t know why i’ve always imagined him having a sister around 21-23 & bradley showing up with her friend one time & payback makes a fucked up comment😭😭)
mav: he’s an only child, that’s pretty obvious with how he was with goose. he saw goose as a brother figure. that’s why his stories lowkey sad as hell bc goose’s son basically became maverick in the end (no wife, no kids, no parents, no siblings) while on the topic of goose i like to believe he has at least one brother and one sister, mav did become his favorite “sibling” though & that’s why mav practically got half custody of bradley after he died.
for shits & giggles, harvard & yale are only children but became each others brothers. fritz has an older sister who was also in the navy. omaha has 2 older brothers. halo has a younger sister that works at penny’s bar as a bartender!
this was very long i apologize - 💋
DUDEEEE ARE YOU KIDDING ME ALL OF THESE ARE SO ACCURATE
i whole heartedly agree with ALL of these and i’m accepting all of them as canon. i’m so grateful you came through with all of these incredible thoughts and in such insane detail!!
please do not apologise at all my beloved anon!! thank you so much for this, mwah!! 💌🫶🏼💖
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forsty · 2 years
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If you don't mind, could you elaborate on your “The dagger squad is taken hostage by some Bad People who are after Mav, Rooster is shot in a skirmish,” whump idea?? (if you can, if not it's all good) I am intrigued 👀👀👀 Please take this an invitation to talk about it as long and in depth as you’d like 😊
Anon you are just enabling me at this point!!! A dangerous thing to do!!! OF COURSE I would LOVE to eloborate, don't have to ask me twice!
Overall concept/idea/story:
The dagger squad (minus Yale, Omaha, Harvard, Fritz and Halo) all meet up at Mav's hangar to hang out (not sure what for? maybe they planned a BBQ?). They all arrive a few hours early, so Mav isn't there yet. They know it could be a few hours before Mav shows up so they all just hang out at that point, trying their best not to snoop in Mav's things.
Rooster goes outside for a moment to pick up something from his car, the others are startled when he returns shortly after along with another person who unfortunately is holding Rooster at gunpoint. A few other armed (mostly with guns) folks show up, surrounding the other pilots really quickly. Obviously Rooster was jumped when alone outside. Additional: They could have punched him when they jumped him
The others are immedietly on edge while the BAD GUY who got a gun on Rooster starts going on about what's happening/going to happen kinda vaguely. The reason they're being taken hostage isn't revealed before Mav actually shows up abit later.
It becomes clear all of them are being targeted, as the bad guys know their call signs from before (but only their callsigns, not their names), and that they're being targeted because they mean something to Mav (who is technically the real target)
I'm unsure about how many enemies we're talking about here, I'm thinking maybe around 4 guys who has surrounded the others and 5 with the guy who has Rooster at gunpoint. Though none of these are the actual "leader", he has yet to show up. since they are all nameless I'll do it like this: #1: The leader dude #2: The one who has Rooster at gunpoint so far #3: Goon #4: Goon #5: Goon #6: Goon (I'll talk more about them later)
All the dagger pilots are SUPER tense, looking for any moment of opportunity to get a upper hand. I always imagine this scene to be like... VERY heavy on the facial expression and talking without speaking. Rooster's locking eyes with all of his squadmates and literally begging either of them to leap into action, regardless if he gets shot or not (cause I mean). and WHILE this wordless conversation is going on between them all, some of the goons have started to tie up the pilots. Bob and Phoenix are being cuffed to the couch that Mav has in his hanger, I'm abit unsure where the others are being cuffed to, but theya re at least being tied up.
After Fanboy has been tied up, and Payback is next, the guys start stressing about all of them being tied up before anyone can do anything, so in a very spontanous act, Hangman launches at the nearest goon, which creates a window for Rooster to wiggle free from the grip #2 has on him. There's some fighting, Payback, Coyote, Hangman and Rooster throwing hands with the goons, and just when it seems like they're about to get the upper hand, a loud gunshot rings through the hangar.
Rooster has been shot in his abdomen and he immedietly tumbles to the ground. The three others who aren't tied up all freeze up, looking at their FALLEN FRIEND and then at #2 who had fired the shot. He looks PISSED, his gun still aimed towards Rooster. The other goons use this opportunity to restrain the last pilots, and maybe Phoenix shouts at them (you know, just horrified reactions from all of them).
Once all pilots (except Rooster but he's not considered a threat anymore) have been restrained and is under control, #4 rushes over to #2 and starts asking why he shot the guy and that nobody was supposed to get THAT much hurt. It's revealed that all the goons knew who Rooster is to Mav, and that Rooster was a priority because of that, but they didn't know which of the pilots was Rooster (somehow the information about who belonged to which callsign got mixed up). So #2 figured he could shoot the guy, cause he was being annoying
So now the situation is really bad OBVIOUSLY, and it becomes clear that it still might be awhile until Mav gets there. All the pilots are tied up and Rooster is just laying there.... bleeding... Phoenix and/or Bob start to plead or convince #2 to at least let one of them loose so they can help Rooster, make sure he doesn't bleed out. After some convincing, Phoenix telling #2 that it will look real bad if they actually ended up killing someone, #2 lets Phoenix loose (but with her hands tied in front of her) to help Rooster. (I kinda change up who ends up helping him, sometimes it's Phoenix, sometimes it's Bob, sometimes it's Hangman... can also be Fanboy, Coyote or Payback too just to bring them more into the story)
A little bit of time pass, and the whole time it's just super tense. The other pilots trying to find ways to get loose, Phoenix stressing over Rooster, who's CLEARLY in pain and struggling. Maybe Phoenix and Bob talk abit (cause they're close enough to talk quietly). One of the other Bad Guys brings Phoenix some extra towels, they seem kinda remorseful over the situation.
Then Mav shows up. They hear the rumble of his bike approuching, and I have this VERY CLEAR IMAGE of Rooster looking at Phoenix with so much dread. Mav enters his hangar and is immedietly put at gunpoint of course, and he’s just SHOCKED AND CONFUSED? Here he was expecting to find his pilots but instead he finds a bunch of armed strangers and his pilots all tied up?? It takes him a moment before he spots Rooster, and the moment he sees him it takes Mav like 0,01 seconds before he’s at his kid’s side.
Then there’s like... mostly just a lot of conversation? Mav demanding to know what the heck is going on and that they need to get Rooster to the hospital (which ofc... the bad guys say no to because they ARE after all in the middle of a hostage situation here). 
THIS IS ALSO when the leader/boss shows up, and turns out, Mav knows him. (I’m thinking it’s someone he and Goose met at flight school, but said person got kicked out and is forever salty about it). SO the big plan is finally revealed, these people want Mav to steal some.. government secret aircraft.... ? because they think he can get access to it. Maybe he can.. maybe he can’t... but they also say if he can’t they’re sure Mav can just talk to Ice about it lol... and ofc the whole “If you DON’T do this... we’re gonna kill all your little pilot friends here” so MAV FIGURES HE DOESNT HAVE A CHOICE and agrees to do it but ofc they can’t do it right away, they have to wait (i dunno something about scheduling) which really adds to the tension considering THE SITUATION
This is where I sometimes change things up, either they remain where they all are (Mav being cuffed to the couch or something I dunno). Sometimes they plead to move Rooster over to the couch. The more in detail continuation is that the bad guys move all the pilots into Mav’s caravan that’s in his hangar (oof crowded, but at least they can put Rooster on Mav’s bed)
AND HERE ARE SOME EXTRA ADDITIONS OR POSSIBLE CHANGES OR RANDOM INFORMATION
 we’re not opposed to others getting hurt in this scenario either. I mean they would try to fight back... maybe Hangman or Coyote gets some brusies etc etc
I also ponder on the idea that they somehow manage to call for help, and it’s the rest of the squad that comes to their aid (cause I like being able bring them more into the stories ya know)
Rooster is shot and the bullet DOESN’T go clean through (cause I enjoy the added drama <3) 
TBH this entire scenario is very inspired/based on an episode from the a-team 
I like the idea that one of the goons is actually kinda nice and tries to help and deflate the situation. 
I also just LOVE the idea of Mav trying to do his best to keep Rooster alive while they’re kept in his caravan, in a super cramped space with very little equipment in terms of first-aid..... (maybe he even tries to remove the bullet... not that im a doctor and knows if thats smart or not but ya know..... angst)
there might be some things i’ve forgotten BUT THAT’S ABOUT IT... AT LEAST THE MOST IMPORTANT DETAILS PFFT.. i also apologize if it’s messy my thoughts are quite jumbled most of the time 
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indefiniteimagines · 2 years
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Derek Luh
Skate Maloley:
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annaaa-laurennn · 7 years
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N.M | Off Limits Pt. 2
A/N: Not too crazy about this one. Honestly, I’m still getting back into the swing of writing again. It has been sooo long. Anyhow, please send me a requests. I would love to write some more. 
Part 1 (x)  Masterlist (x) Requests (x)
Just as I was about to lean up to place a kiss on Nate’s lips, my phone buzzed once again. It was Natalie again.
“I know it was you. You’re the other girl.”
My heart sank. “She knows,” I said as I showed Nate the message.
...
 “What now,” I asked, feeling awful about the choices that I had made. My thoughts and emotions were hard to explain. I did not feel guilty for being with Nate, but I felt guilty for hurting my friend. “Should I try to talk to her?”
“I’m not sure if that’s the best thing. She probably just needs time. It will eventually blow over.”  Nate didn’t seem to be worried the least bit. To be quite honest, his attitude made me admire him as well as be angry with him. 
“Do you not care the least bit about this? What we did is so awful. I’m awful.” I said the last bit in a whisper, ashamed of my own self. 
“Well...not really. I mean obviously you’re the one I want to be with. This will eventually pass over. She can’t stay mad forever.” Nate just didn’t get it. He didn’t understand why I was so upset. 
Aggravated and fed up, I said, “you should go.” 
“Y/N..” Nate said with a confused look, “why? This really isn’t a big deal.” 
“Not forever, just for now. Just until this blows over and is taken care of.” I assured him. If Nate wasn’t in my home, if he wasn’t a distraction, then maybe just maybe I could handle things with Natalie. 
“Okay,” Nate said as he placed a sweet kiss on my lips, “but at least call me.” 
“I will.”
 I frantically searched for my car keys, moments later I found them hid underneath a stack of papers on the kitchen table. I immediately left for Natalie’s apartment that was located on the other side of town. 
Knock. Knock. 
Natalie opened the door and at the sight of me, her face immediately fell. “What are you doing here?” 
“I just thought that I should come by and talk to you about things.” I couldn’t look my friend in the eyes. I just stared down at my feet. 
“Well you thought wrong. Y/N, I don’t want to talk to anyone but especially you. You need to leave.”
Natalie was about to shut the door in my face, but instead I put my arm out to stop her. “Just hear me out, please.” One thing was sure, I was stubborn and was not going to leave without at least having my say. 
Natalie rolled her eyes but nevertheless opened the door further. “You literally have ten minutes.” 
I stepped foot into her home. On any other occasion I would have felt welcome, but this time the air was still and my presence was definitely unwanted. “Well first off, just know that I am so sorry. I can’t excu-.”
She cut me off before I could even complete my sentence. “You’re sorry? Really? Y/N we were friends, best friends actually, and you slept with my boyfriend. What could possess you to do something so bitchy?” 
“I don’t know,” I admitted, “I just got caught up the moment I guess.” The truth be told, I wasn’t thinking about Natalie at all. Instead, I had my mind on Nate. I was caught up in the way he made me feel, he simply made me feel special. The way he spoke sent chills down my spine, they way he looked at me made me feel stunning, and they way he touched me caused the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. He was simply captivating and I fell for him. 
Natalie looked me dead in the eyes. I could tell that she was holding back, she wasn’t going to let her emotions freely flow. Anger arose but she was biting her tongue and controlling her actions. “I’m gonna say it one more time, you should leave. I don’t want to hear anything you have say.”
“Nat...I’m so sorry, I really am,” I apologized. I meant every single word of it. I was truly sorry that I had hurt a friend of mine in such a way. I wanted so desperately to explain myself and attempt to mend things, but I knew not to overstep anymore boundaries. Therefore, I turned around and let myself out. As soon as I stepped outside the apartment door, I felt tears beginning to form. I tried my absolute best not to allow them to fall, but it completely sucked to know that I had lost such a great friend. 
I called Nate when I got back inside of my car. “She didn’t want to even speak to me. She totally hates me.” 
“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t mean for things to happen the way they did.” Even though Nate wasn't hurt by the decisions that the both of us made, his apology was still sincere. I appreciated that greatly; it was a good feeling to know that Nate at least cared how I felt. “Come over to my place. That way you don’t have to be alone.”
I didn’t even have to think about his offer. It’s not like we had anything to hide anyway. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I spent the evening on Nate’s sofa. I laid long ways, resting my head on his lap, as he sat normally on the sofa. As he ran his fingers through my hair, I couldn’t help but think about the previous events. “I have a question,” I announced, “What do you think about me?”
“What do you mean?” He was obviously confused by my question. 
“Do you think I’m a bad person? I never wanted to be the girl who got caught in the middle of someone else’s relationship.” 
“Well first off, there isn’t a relationship between Natalie and me anymore. So you aren't in the middle of anyone’s relationship. Second, you had nothing to do with the reason that we broke up for. Maybe you and I did sleep together the night before, but things just weren't working with her. I’m being so serious, quit feeling guilty and quit worrying. Everything is going to be alright, I promise.” His words were soothing to my ears. 
“I really didn’t mean to hurt Natalie. You just,” I paused for a second and chuckled a bit, “make me go crazy.” 
A smile grew across Nate’s face as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I know you didn’t. Y/N, quit being so hard on yourself. Besides, just give her a little more time. She will eventually forgive the both of us.” 
“Thanks for being willing to talk to me about this ordeal.” I felt horrible and so guilty, but Nate was right; it had to quit somewhere. I truly was sorry for what I had done, but all I could do was apologize and move on. Hopefully I would one day be able to work through things with Natalie, but time would tell if that was a possibility or not. 
“I’ll always be here to listen to you,” Nate promised. I couldn’t help but smile, I leaned up to place a kiss on his lips. 
“I’m so thankful to have you.” Even if he and I had gotten together in the wrong way, nevertheless was I grateful for him. He was mine and I was going to hold on to him. 
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ogoc-imagines · 7 years
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"Can you make an au where jack j and y/n are dating and they just post about it....if that makes sense. I love the acc❤️❤️❤️"
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Parabellum 🪙 | Top Gun Maverick Imagine/John Wick AU
Set in an alternate universe where Top Gun is actually part of an underground assassins bureau in NYC
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TGM Masterlist
Characters & Parings: Dagger Squad x Wick!reader (platonic/work relationship), John Wick x adoptive cousin!reader (platonic), The Bowery King (platonic), The Adjudicator (platonic) Zero + students (platonic)
Content Warnings: angst, profanity, banter, blood, violence, graphic depiction of injury, mentions of death and murder. AU set in the JW universe where Top Gun is a tactical assassination squad for The High Table. Set during JW: Chapter 3–Parabellum, but everyone is the age they were in TGM (so the year 2013 since all the movies are set within days of each other despite released years apart) | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 8k
Premise: There are two rules everyone who works for the Table must follow: 1. No business on company grounds, 2. All Markers must be fulfilled. For John Wick, there are several debts he is owed as he battles against the whole world after breaking rule number one. And two of them fall under rule number two. John’s in for quite the treat when he heads to the Top Gun hangar to cash on of his debts from none other than his cousin, who happens to be the leader Top Gun’s infamous tactical assassin squad.
Note: Y’all I am so hype for John Wick Chapter 4. JW is one of my fav franchises and Keanu Reeves is my baby daddy 🥵 Maybe once Chapter 4 comes out I’ll do a part two to this since I have no idea what’s gonna happen to John and also if you’ve seen John Wick 3, do y’all think Winston is part of the BK’s plan or did he really betray John for his own selfish needs? like the Parent Trap imagine I did, I basically rewatched all the JW movies cause there was a marathon and got inspired. I really need to focus on my school work though cause I didn’t do so hot on my first writing assignment (it was research methods and my professor didn’t have the instructions very clear 😭) but I had to get this done and out first before taking a small few days of break to do my homework. — Bee 🐝
I do not own any of the characters from TGM or JW, this is for fictional purposes and entertainment. Read over CW before reading and reblogs , likes, and comments are welcomed but please do not steal or repost onto other platforms.
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The phone was on the edge of breaking by how hard she was gripping it, cursing and flinching each time Halo strung a thread through her skin to seal the gaping wound that nearly sliced her face off. She couldn’t see out of her left eye and her lips were split in diagonal from the direction of the blade. Never had she experienced being cut by a katana in all her years of service….but there was always a first for everything.
“What do you want?” She winced again, glaring at the wall with hatred. While the Bowery King, who was experiencing his own hell with seven cuts to him, relayed to her the most recent update of their mutual ‘friend’, Y/n ‘Domino’ Wick thought back to the past last week. As much as she wanted to avoid it, she knew what was coming the second the message appeared on her phone: ‘John Wick—Excommunicado in effect in 1 hour. All services closed. Open Contract set at $14m.’
Seven Days Earlier….
The message was just sent out, everyone in the hangar appearing confused when the cell phones beeped at the same time causing them all to withdraw theirs from their pocket. Upon reading the words, multiple eyes turned to the woman seated at her desk. An opened bottle of whiskey was beside her, a stack of papers to be sorted through in a basket. She appeared emotionless as she read the message once before sliding the phone back in its place and storing it away.
“What’s up with Domino?” Omaha looked at Fanboy and Coyote when the woman rose from her chair before kicking it across the room and disappearing.
Fanboy shook his head, sighing in apparent distress, “You’ve heard of John Wick?” Of course he wasn’t talking about the fact his name was on the message they all got, he meant if Omaha knew who he was.”
“Only from stories. Ain’t he like the best there is.”
“The best and even more,” Coyote commented, already checking to make sure his gun was armed. “Man’s a beast. People call him the Boogeyman—or Baba Yaga to be more exact.”
“Anway,” Fanboy brought the attention back to him, noticing Domino called over Fritz, Rooster, Payback, and Hangman. They all were deep in discussion. “Domino and John were both orphans in Belarus, growing up together at the Ruska Roma.” Knowing what the Ruska Roma was combined with the fact Domino and John knew each other, Omaha made a face of shock. “They’re kinda like cousins—not sure if they are blood related, adoptive, or just grew close enough that they see each other as such. She doesn’t say a lot about her past, but before she became Domino her name was Y/n Wick. Now that Mav and Cyclone retired she’s been in service longer than any of us.”
“Just don’t ask questions, alright,” Coyote warned with a glance, “I know you’re new to the whole thing but keep quiet and you’ll live longer.”
If only Omaha had asked what John Wick looked like. Would’ve saved him a broken arm had he done so because when the poor guy went to do his surveillance, he was shocked to find a bloody man in their parking lot who immediately got in a tousle with when Omaha charged him.
The private hangar was located just a few miles from downtown at a very small private airstrip surrounded by a chain link electric fence, far enough and secluded that nobody in their right mind—unless of course, they were in need of service—migrated to. And unfortunately for Omaha he’d never seen John Wick before…so how was he supposed to know the intruder was the infamous assassin.
The two were going at it for a good three minutes until it ended with Omaha’s arm breaking and John’s belt around his neck. His air was constricted, the man fighting back against the hold in hopes of freeing himself. Before John could do the final twist to end Omaha for good, the sound of a gunshot followed by a speeding bullet against his face had John tripping back, releasing Omaha who took gasps of breath.
“That’s enough you two,” a stern voice said, multiple footsteps approaching. Looking up, John's eyes landed on his cousin flanked by members of her Dagger Squad on either side of her, guns trained on him as a warning for John to not make a sudden move. “We don't want things to get messy now do we?”
It had been years since the cousins had seen each other, well before John retired to marry Helen. They were roughly ten years apart in age, making Y/n around 40 now that John just turned 50. He was her mentor and protector during their time in the Ruska Roma, having been brought to the U.S from Belarus when John was 11 and Y/n was barely a year old. It’s unsure if they were even related but considering John looked after her like a family member people just assumed they were. Then when she got older she ditched her birth name and started going by Y/n Wick.
When John had heard several years before he retired that Y/n became a member of the Top Gun tactical execution squad, part of him felt he had failed her. Of course it was likely for her to join the underground world they were pretty much forced into by being a part of the Ruska Roma, but he hoped she’d not dive too deep. She was only 22 when she joined, becoming one of the best associates in the organization. Then just before he retired she was promoted to second in command, now four years later she was the leader after her predecessors decided to step down.
Looking at her now before him, he could tell Y/n had become the hardened contract killer she was destined to be. Reputation nearly rivaling that of his own. As a member of the Top Gun Tactical Dagger Squad Y/n earned the callsign ‘Domino,’ learning how to fly a plane due to the fact Top Gun provided services to associates by transporting them to and from locations. As highly skilled assassins the team are often hired by mobs, including the High Table when they don’t feel like sending their personal squads, to take out private contracts. Sometimes Y/n was directly offered contracts especially by those who wanted to keep their dirty work as hidden as possible.
Taking in the current Dagger Squad, John recognized most of them: Rooster, Payback, Fritz, Hangman, Coyote, Yale and Phoenix. When they last saw each other eight years before they’d all been recent recruits. Now they were molded killers. The other bunch were new faces—including the one he just broke the arm of. They had to have joined within the last several years. All wearing flight suits with their patches on the left breast, John read: Harvard, Bob, Fanboy, Halo, and lastly Omaha.
“You good, Omaha?” Y/n asked, not taking her gaze off of John. The man moaned in response.
“I think my arm is broken, boss.”
“Halo, Bob,” she simply said, the woman next to her and the man on the end dropping their guns to move over to the fallen man. When Halo walked off, Rooster took a step to the right so he was now directly next to Domino. On the opposite side to her left was Payback.
The two haul Omaha off, disappearing into the hangar. “Well,” Y/n puts her hands on her hips. “You sure know how to make an entrance. Hello, John.”
“Hello, Y/n.” She glared at the name, but made no move to correct it.
“Did you really have to break my guy’s arm?”
John gave a light shrug, putting his hand to his injured shoulder that was bleeding from a stab wound. “He came after me.”
Y/n gave an unhumorous laugh, shaking her head, “John, you got a fourteen million dollar bounty on your head. Can’t really blame him for trying—If I didn’t have a sense of why you’re here I’d give my crew the word and let them light you up before finishing you off myself.” It was harsh coming from a family member, but John couldn’t blame her. They’d been estranged for years now with their last encounters anything but friendly.
What John didn’t know though was Omaha had no idea what he looked like. Y/n was just trying to get under his skin.
“Go ahead and pull it out,” she challenged, eyes narrowing at the man. The squad kept their weapons raised, but relaxed their stance at her order.
Slowly John reaches into his jacket pocket, removing one of two Markers, making sure it was the right one before presenting it to the group. He saw the woman immediately stiffen, face tightening as the anger never left her eyes. In fact it looked like it increased by the sight of the object.
A debt she had to pay.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, John. Some. Fucking. Nerve.”
“Y/n—.”
She cuts him off with a harsh tone, “You’re excommunicado, John. Services are now closed to you. As of five minutes ago that marker is void.” That last statement was actually on the fence.
There were two big rules in their world: 1. No business on company grounds. 2. All Markers must be fulfilled.
Given John broke rule #1 he was labeled excommunicado with the original contract of $7m by Santino D’Antonio doubled to $14m. Any and all services were now closed to him, even as simple as receiving medical treatment by a company doctor.
But what of the Markers?
John had two. One from Y/n and one from Sofia Al-Azwar, both given to John at different times, both where John had to transport and hide their children. In Y/n’s case she had gotten pregnant just shortly after leaving the Ruska Roma and was on her way to becoming a contract killer. She was barely 19 and in no way able to raise a child. So she called John and swore the blood oath to him that she would return the favor no matter the price or cost when the time came. Over 20 years later she still didn’t know what happened to her son. Sofia had originally come to Y/n to help her out when she needed to get her daughter away, but Y/n assured her John was better for the job, confessing he had done the same for her.
Would the Markers still have to be completed although he was banished and being hunted by the High Table? The same ones who order hits on those who don’t fulfill the Markers when presented by the person they owe? It was a tough situation.
It was Domino’s current situation.
John pleaded to her, opening the object to reveal her bloody fingerprint, “This is your blood. Your bond. When you needed help, Y/n, I was there. Now I need your help. You owe it to me, please.”
Y/n inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, “Top Gun works for the Table, John. We have been in service to them for decades. They will come for us—for me, for helping you.” In the corner of her eye she saw some of the crew stiffen, hands gripping their weapons tighter at the fear of facing the Table.
John gave her a look, “They will come for you if you don’t.” That had her nearly falter, seeing a look of angst overtake her.
“Some family you are, John. Bringing death to my door. Risking the lives of my team!” She couldn’t help but shout, no longer holding back her anger. All she could think about was the fact the Table likely already knew he was there. They had spies all over the city. Once he leaves they’ll be sending someone even if she didn’t help him. “What the fuck do you want anyway? What’s the favor you so desperately need after all these years that’s made you put me and my crew in danger.”
“My ticket,” he simply tells her, watching her face become ashen. “I know you still have it. I need it now, Y/n. That’s all I ask for.”
A long time ago John gave Y/n his ticket every orphan of the Ruska Roma receives upon ‘graduation’. A symbol of the favor the organization owes them after spending years under them. Y/n had cashed in on hers a long time ago, but John had her keep his safe. Believing he’d never have to use it.
It was kinda ironic when she started thinking about it.
“You could’ve had it all you know,” she dryly laughs, gazing hard at the man she saw as a cousin. “You got out—away from this. Tell me, Jordani, was it worth it?” She waits for a reply but it doesn’t come. Of course it wouldn’t. She could see it in his eyes it wasn’t. “What were you hoping to gain by hunting down the Tarasov punk? You should’ve fucking known it wouldn’t have ended once you finished the job. You opened the damn door, John. You gave Santino everything he needed to check in on his favor that you owed him. It honestly baffles me that you, John Wick, thought it was a good idea to give that man a marker. You’re reasoning? I'll never know.”
She has to pause to cool down a bit before continuing, “You could’ve asked anybody else to help you that night—you could’ve asked me, John. You had the marker all this time. Why the fuck didn’t you use it then?” She raises a hand as a signal for him to keep quiet all while ordering the squad to stand down. “Don’t answer that. I honestly don’t wanna know. It’s your fucking karma at the end of the day.” Again she gives a dry laugh, “I just find it hilarious honestly. The reason you’re in this shit show to begin with is because you owed Santino—which would’ve never happened if you didn’t let your impulses take over and go after Iosef Tarasov. You let some punk ass kid bring you back. A domino effect at its finest,” she has to laugh at her own joke, but nothing about it was funny. “Now here you are, cashing in on all the favors you’re owed. Me….The Director…I take it Sofia is next on your list?”
No answer. Y/n tightens her lips, nodding slowly, “I thought so. She’s over across the sea. You think she’s gonna just let you waltz in, John?” Y/n smirks, “but first you gotta survive getting out of New York. And unlike the other night when it was just the city after your ass, you got the whole world wanting a piece of you now. Fourteen million dollars,” she hums, tilting her head like she’s deep in thought. “Saying it out loud…it’s tempting.”
“Fifteen,” Fanboy says, making all eyes turn to him. “The contract just went up.” Y/n nods, turning back to John with a shrug.
“You hear that, John? I wonder who’s responsible for adding the bonus.”
“You’re not gonna kill me, Y/n,” he says unfazed, making her narrow her eyes a tad.
“And what makes you so confident I won't? Pretty bold of you to assume when you got ten guns on you.”
John tells her like it is, “Because you would’ve already done it by now.” He got her there. She would’ve given the signal the moment they surrounded him if she truly wanted him dead. And as much as Y/n was pissed off with John, he was the last person she had who she considered family. And she was indebted to him.
Hating the fact he was right, Y/n just nods, “Fair enough, John.”
“Look,” he holds up the Marker, “you do this for me and we’re done. You and I are even and the Table can’t fault you for following their rules.” His reasoning makes her scoff.
“You don’t really know if that’s true, John. But thanks for trying to lighten the situation,” she was being sarcastic, having had enough of the ordeal. “I’ll be sure to tell whoever they send exactly what you said. Maybe I'll live to see the next day.” They just stare at each other, letting the reality set in.
“Fritz,” the man beside Payback responds with a look at her, “bring me the blue book with gold trimming in the safe. The one on the top shelf—you know the one.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he holsters his gun and walks toward the hangar.
“Coyote, go get the keys for the Ducati Diavel,” when he goes Y/n then calls to the woman beside Rooster, “and Phoenix, grab me a 9mm from one of the units.”
“On it.”
“Fanboy, and Harvard,” the two snap to attention awaiting orders, “Go check on Halo and Bob, see if they need help dealing with Omaha and call the Continental doctor if need be.” She sees John falter at the mention of the doctor, remembering he was just there and had to shoot him in a non-fatal area on the docs insistent to cover for the face he helped John. “Actually scratch that…take him to the urgent care that’s off the road past the gate. Tell them Domino sent you.”
“Yes ma’am,” they both say and head out, leaving Payback, Yale, Hangman and Rooster on either side of Y/n, the woman standing in the middle between the four.
“What are you doing?” John asks.
“Paying my debt,” she says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Ensuring the bargain has been fulfilled. You may have given me the impression all you want is your ticket, but I know you were hoping for something a little more. Consider it done.”
John shakes his head with a frown, “I wasn’t gonna—.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” she tightens her lips. “Sure you weren’t. How the hell else are you gonna get to The Director from all the way out here with nothing but a belt to defend you, John? I’m surprised you even managed to make it here within the hour.” Holding out her hand, Phoenix places the 9mm in the open palm. At that moment Coyote pulls up the motorcycle, keeping the keys in the ignition when he puts it on its stand. Then Fritz arrives with the book, handing it over to Y/n’s other open palm.
Approaching John, Y/n extends both hands to pass the gun and book to him. He holsters the gun first then opens the book to remove the fake page revealing the compartment with his ticket, aka the rosary, and a wad of gold coins. He pockets both the rosary and coins, before handing back the book and Y/n holds it out for Fritz to take back.
“You’re going to war, John,” she watches him open the Marker, pricking his thumb on the needle before placing his bloody fingerprint onto the open space beside her own. “With the whole damn world. Even if you make it to where you’re going…it won't end there. This is only the beginning.”
“I know,” he sighs, handing her the now complete Marker. “Consequences.” She gives a tight smile, fingers encasing around the object.
“Consequences. You should’ve thought about those before blowing a hole into Santino’s head. Would’ve saved you all the trouble.” He doesn’t react with the exception of a curt nod, knowing she was right. But he made his bed, now he has to lie in it. “Goodbye, John.”
“Goodbye, Y/n.”
They all watch as he mounts the bike and takes off into the darkness, becoming smaller with each minute until finally he’s out of their sights. Finally Y/n lets out the breath she had been holding, angry tears stinging her eyes that she refuses to let the team see. They’d never seen her scared before, she wasn’t gonna let them see now. Even though they had every right to be just as scared.
Gathering herself, she cranks her neck to the sky and closes her eyes for a brief moment before turning back to the remaining Squad members, the one who were coming up on ten years whereas all the others she sent away were only a couple years in. “Prepare the bunker,” she watched all their eyes widen, glancing at each other hesitantly.
“Are you sure, Dom?” Rooster questions, looking a bit unease. They hadn’t used the bunker in so long, it was gonna take time to prepare it. Not even the Table knew about it. Top Gun predecessors from when the underground crime world started built it for caution in case they were to have troubles with the Table. It was basically a whole level floor underneath the hangar equipped with everything they needed from food, water, bedding, clothing, and of course weapons and arsenal. They could survive weeks underground and no one would know. They had security surrounding the premises that they could access from below ground.
Domino was confident the Table had already been tipped off by an associate. They were gonna have to act quick.
“Very,” she walked a few steps, stopping so she was directly in front of the group. “Expect us to have company when the sun rises—maybe in a few days if we’re lucky. I’ll deal with the Table,” she assures, looking them each in the eyes. “When that happens I need you all to be in the bunker where you’re safe. And you will not come out until they have left the premises—regardless of what happens to me.” Immediately there were sounds of protest.
“Dom, that’s suicide,” Rooster states the obvious. Phoenix pitches in, “You’re not serious, boss.”
“There’s no way in hell we’re leaving you alone with them,” Hangman voices, going as far as taking a step closer to the woman. Fritz and Yale back him up while Payback comments, “You don’t even know if they’re coming.”
“I didn't ask for your input. From any of you,” she shuts them up. Rubbing a hand over her face, Y/n gives a tired sigh. “You don’t think I don’t know what they’re capable of? I have been in this life longer than any of you—I’ve seen everything you can imagine when it comes to the business we’re in. Or at least I thought until John Wick decided to cause hell two weeks ago,” she mutters the last part under breath. No one could’ve predicted that when John exterminated the Tarasov crime family that he’d be the Table’s #1 target. Where the rules were no longer black and white.
“My point is,” she calms down the raging thoughts in her head. “I’m the one who helped him. They are gonna come after me, but that doesn’t mean you all have to be in the crossfire. If they see you here, even if you’re not doing anything, they’ll kill you,” her tone turns harsher, to get it through their heads the seriousness of it. “I don’t want any of you going against the Table, not when I’m gonna need you all if I survive the meeting.”
“What do you think is gonna happen?” Yale is the one to ask the question.
“I don’t know,” she speaks truthfully. “But if John is going where I think he is…then tonight was just the beginning.”
Seven Days Later….
She honestly expected them earlier. Rumors spread in the days after John’s excommunication. An Adjudicator of the Table visiting those who assisted him. At the Ruska Roma, the Director had her hands sliced through with her entourage slaughtered just the day after John cashed in his ticket. Then the Bowery King was set to pay a price for refusing to step down after a warning of seven days to get his affairs in order. Many of his men dead within minutes. That morning he received seven cuts for the seven bullets he gave John the night he executed Santino, and was left for dead. Was he alive? Y/n wasn’t even sure. All she knew was Winston had until nightfall to step down from the Continental before they paid him a visit.
Right now though, in the early evening of the seventh day, Y/n sat in her chair in the middle of the hangar. Around her were Zero’s students, the man himself closest to her while the Adjudicator stood before her. Unbeknownst to the group the team of assassins they expected to have seen were down below watching the scene unfold through the monitors mounted on the concrete wall. They’d been underground for the whole week, Y/n not risking them being out in the open when she knew the Table would arrive at some point.
After the first day she was confident it was to spook her. Especially after discovering the Director was punished for her role in transporting John across the Atlantic. Yes, they were trying to scare her alright. They damn well knew she aided John Wick. They were just waiting for the right time to make their presence known.
“Where is the Dagger Squad, Domino?” The Adjudicator paced in front of her, eyes drifting over the empty hangar. It was too quiet for her liking.
“On a mission.”
“There were no recent contracts from my knowledge for your department. When did this happen?” She pressed, turning to the assassin. Y/n could tell she was examining her body language, hoping to catch her in a lie.
“A private one came in this morning. I sent them off just before you arrived.”
“From?”
“The Triads,” she answered confidently.
“Where to?”
“Out west. They requested the location to be confidential. You understand, right?”
The Adjudicator nodded slowly, not really sure if she believed the woman, but kept her gaze focused. Two planes were moved to make it look like they were gone. Domino hoped they would take the bait.
“I’m sure you know why I’m here.”
“I have my suspicions,” Y/n replied, remaining calm and unthreatening. “It wasn’t hard to guess after whispers coming in from the city.” It was obvious she was referring to the Bowery King and Director.
“And do you have anything to say for yourself about why you broke the rules and aided John Wick in his escape from New York? I am well aware of your personal history with him.”
Y/n willed herself not to react to the last comment, focusing on the question. “I owed him a debt. Which you already know—it’s why you’re here. Maybe you can tell everyone at HQ to add more details on the fine print of what to do when the bearer of your Marker breaks the rules. As far as I’m concerned,” she dares to shrug, “I followed them.”
“So you have a point,” the tattooed woman gives a tight expression, not liking her attitude. “You may have upheld the rule of the Table but that doesn’t mean you didn't do more than what you had to. Especially due to the personal connection involved. John Wick was seen coming to this location on foot and leaving twenty minutes later on a motorcycle.”
Y/n tilts her head, now looking bored. “What are you getting at? That’s part of what he wanted.”
“Tell me what all he wanted, Domino, in order for the debt to be paid.”
Y/n kept eye contact, the two almost in a staring contest with neither wanting to blink as she listed off what all she provided. “The book containing his ticket, coins, and a 9mm that he had me store ages ago for ‘emergencies,’ and a mode of transportation.”
“You didn’t offer one of your pilots to escort him to Morocco?”
“He didn’t indicate Morocco was where he wanted to go,” she fired back. Now she was playing dumb. Of course she knew he was heading there since Sofia was now the manager of the Moroccan Continental. “He just wanted those things and then said he’d be on his way. And because I didn’t know if the Marker was invalid given his status, I delivered with his request. Fulfilling the Marker because that is your rule.”
The Adjudicator takes a moment to think before placing her hands behind her back. “I may not have proof you acted against the Table, Domino, but rest assured we will find out if you did. Until then, I will leave you with a warning of what is to come when that happens.”
Y/n’s heart kicks in pace, stiffening when Zero comes to stand in front of her. Before she could react a searing pain erupted in her face, head snapping to the side by the force causing the woman to fall from her chair. “GAHHH!!” She audibly reacted as she landed on the ground, hands going straight to her face only to be drenched in the blood pouring from the gaping cut. She couldn’t even open her left eye, her right one watery causing her vision to be blurry. Looking up she saw Zero wiping his katana with his sleeve.
He fucking sliced her face.
The iron taste in her mouth was due to the fact her lips were split. It was a diagonal direction of the blade against skin, going from the edge of her right jaw all the way to her left temple—completely cutting her lips and slicing her eye. Speaking of her eye it was on fire, figuratively speaking. Glancing around she silently thanked the fact her eyeball wasn’t staring back at her meaning it was still in its socket. But judging from the pain and the fact when she tried to open it she was met with darkness indicated the eye was long gone.
Underground, members of the Dagger Squad had to refrain from getting into the elevator and rush in guns blazing. They were given orders, and if the Adjudicator did not report back to the Table they would know something happened and send their full force against them.
“She’s alive,” Rooster said in relief when Y/n moved, them all watching her hands go to her face. Phoenix changed the camera to a different angle and they saw the full extent of her injury. Everyone grimaced, some cursing at the sight of Domino’s bloodied face. It was literally sliced at an angle.
“Fuck,” Fanboy muttered, Halo already moving to gather medical supplies.
“She said to wait until they were gone,” Payback reminded them when a few started to move to the elevator. The Adjudicator, Zero, and his students had just left the hangar, but had yet to be fully off the premises. On the monitor it showed Y/n stumbling as she tried to locate the closet with towels and supplies. Blood trailed after her, leaving a line in its wake. It wasn’t until the cars passed the gate and were well off into the city that the squad rushed to the elevator.
“Domino!” Y/n heard someone shout, mind a bit hazy from the blood loss and beginning to feel numb.
“I got you, boss,” Fritz picked her up bridal style and rushed her to the makeshift medical room with Halo and Bob running behind him. Placing her on the bed they got to work. Halo started an IV while Bob did his best to apply pressure on the wound.
“She’s gonna need blood,” Bob said, cursing by the amount she was losing. “Who here shares her blood type?”
“Hangman, Phoenix, and Coyote,” Halo lists off, grabbing the syringe with a light sedative to help Y/n with the pain.
“We’re gonna need all three then. Fritz, can you—.”
“Already on it,” he doesn’t let him finish the sentence, yelling out their names who all appear within seconds. With Harvard the two begin setting up to remove a pint of blood from each.
“You with us, Dom?” Halo takes a light to shine in each of her eyes, apologizing when Y/n moans when her left eye is touched.
“As best as I can be. Just do what you have to do. If I die, I die.”
“We won’t let that happen,” Bob tells her. “You’re gonna be fine, Dom.”
For a good couple hours they were working on repairing the wound. Y/n was a little dozy from the drugs, but managed to stay away during the whole thing. When it came time for the stitches, Halo was about halfway done when Rooster came in with Y/n’s phone. “It’s the Bowery King.”
“Help me up please,” she motioned for them to help her sit up, Halo careful with the sting and needle in her hands. Bob and Fritz pulled to an upright position before she asked for the phone. Rooster handed it over, moving to stand with Phoenix and Payback against the wall. Taking a moment to catch her breath, Y/n placed the phone to ear. “What do you want?”
She received a chuckle, “You sound as bad as I feel.”
“Just fucking get to it. I can’t move my mouth without wanting to scream so let me hear what you have to say and let us be done with it.”
“Have you heard the latest on Mr Wick?”
“He’s the reason Berreda lost his balls.” She received another chuckle.
“Well our friend is stateside again. Lucky bastard cut a deal with the one who sits above the Table.”
Y/n stilled, blood running cold. “He found the Elder.” Those in the room who knew what she spoke of shared the same reaction.
“He did,” the King muses. “And the deal for him to remain breathing is to be forever bound to the Table. The first on his list of bidding is Winston.”
Y/n had to pull the phone away for a moment, in disbelief at the news. She almost wanted to laugh at how things seemed to turn out for John. “He’ll never do it. Winston knows how to manipulate him to get what he wants. I wouldn’t put it past the old man to betray him in the end.”
“I’m happy you and I are on the same page. I was thinking the same exact thing—which is why when the time comes, I’ll be there to pick John up.”
Right as he finishes his sentence all the phones beep, those in the room removing theirs to see the text. Domino looked at her own phone, shaking her head when she read: “The New York Continental status has been changed to Deconsecrated. In effect in thirty minutes.”
“Would you look at that,” the Kind hummed. “Just what I expected. I give it til dawn before they get tired.”
Y/n was starting to get annoyed, wanting him to cut to the chase. “So why are you calling me now?”
“Because I want us to be a step ahead of them, Domino.”
Y/n takes a moment before saying, “I’m listening.”
“I’ve been doing some thinking over the past week—and after this morning these cuts have sealed the deal,” he laughed at his own irony. “All this High Table bullshit….under the Table is where shit gets done and you know it. All of us are pawns in their game. I say it’s time we dethrone them once and for all.”
Y/n straightens her posture, processing what the King was implying. “You’re asking for war.” She noticed her team visibly reacting to the statement. “You’re wanting to go to war with the Table.”
“Quite so.”
“And you want me and my team to help you.” There was no need to say it like a question.
“Just think about it,” he tells her. “Wait the night out or wait for my call. We’ll discuss more then.” Before she could reply the constant beep filled her ears signaling he had hung up. Sliding the phone in place, Y/n stared ahead, this time not even flinching as Halo worked on her.
It was quiet for the remainder of the hour, the beeping of phones signifying the deconsecration of the Continental was in effect. When Halo cut the last bit of thread on Y/n, the woman downed the painkillers and gulped the water bottle in seconds.
“You’re all dismissed. Stay close to the hangar—I don’t trust that they’re not lurking by the gates.” When they all left she changed into a fully black outfit, ending with a leather trench coat. Then she shuffled through one of the cabinets to find an eyepatch, which was a fucking sight when she put it on.
“I look like that dude from those comics Fanboy reads,” she announced when she walked into the area everyone was in, many of them stopping what they were doing. Phoenix, Bob, and Payback were cleaning the blood off the floors while Hangman and Fritz watched the monitors. Halo was checking over Omaha. Yale, Harvard, and Coyote were going through inventory and finally Rooster and Fanboy had finished up calls with potential clients. All eyes turned to Domino, Fanboy having to hold back his comment of saying, “Nick Fury,” though he did have a small smile on his face.
“How you feeling, boss?” Payback questioned, taking a seat on a chair after discarding the bloody water from when he mopped the floors. His answer was a groan, followed by her saying, “Like I should’ve let y’all shoot John Wick and spare me from becoming a raggedy Ann doll.”
Falling into a chair, Y/n thanked the glass of whiskey from Fritz and accepted a cigarette, leaning forward to light it when he offered the lighter flame. Checking the time on the wall, it was approaching midnight. God did she blackout or something? Where the hell did the time go? By now the Continental was likely a graveyard.
“I’m sorry about this week guys,” she said softly, letting the smoke leave her lips, wincing from the sting as the stitches keeping them together served as a reminder of what happened. “I should’ve told you all about the Marker ages ago.”
“It wasn’t our business, Dom,” Hangman pulls up a stool, setting himself on it once it appeared the coast was clear. “Those things are between those involved.”
“Yeah,” Coyote pitched in. “None of us blame you. We probably would’ve done the same. We just hate that you were punished for upholding the deal.”
“It’s not completing the Marker they were upset about,” she taps the cigarette against the ashtray. “Had I not, it would’ve given them the excuse to kill me even though there is no official rule about Markers and those who bear one that are excommunicated. It was the fact they know I did more than what was needed. I could’ve just given John the ticket and sent him off, but instead I willingly armed him with the means to have better odds. That’s why they’re pissed.”
“But they have no proof,” Harvard said from the side. “How would they know you did?”
“They know our history,” she simply sighed. “That’s enough for them to have suspicion. Whether the Adjudicator did it on her own accords or the Table ordered her to give me a good warning that they’re onto me…what’s done is done.” She finished her cigarette, “Now we figure out how to keep them off our backs.”
Several of the daggers looked at each other, wondering how to ask the question they all wanted to know since her phone call. Rooster is the one to speak up, “What about the Bowery King?”
“What about him, Rooster?”
“He’s wanting war with the High Table,” he crosses his arms, ignoring the looks from those who were not present when Domino was on the phone. They appeared surprised, and a little uneasy.
“He’s out of his damn mind,” she told him harshly, trying to not show she was tempted at stepping down from her position to join the mission. Hatred at the Table was rising in her, the King making a fair point at how everything gets done under the Table but they get to reek the benefits of what they do.
Y/n wanted to fight back, she really did. But she wasn’t gonna take her team down with her. They still had lives and going against the Table would not be easy. If she were to take the Bowery King up on his offer she would do it alone and spare them all.
“You know he’s right,” Halo pitches in, surprising the woman. Then she remembered Halo was right next to her and probably heard the entire conversation. “Everyone of us, those in service and in management, are just pawns for the Table and those who sit above it. We’re the ones who keep this business alive while they get to sit back and relax.”
Catching onto that Halo was leaking what the Bowery King told Domino, Phoenix stands from her chair. “You’ve been in service longer than all of us, Domino. You said it yourself. Haven’t you realized things are starting to get out of hand? I mean look!” She gestures to Y/n’s face, “You followed their rules and they nearly took half your face off. Who gives a fuck if you did more than what you had to—John Wick is your family. How could they not expect you to want to help him?”
The others voice agreement, Fritz nudging Y/n lightly with his arm, “It’s not fair, Dom. It hasn’t been fair in years. I say we should do it.” He specifies when she gives a confused look, “Join the Bowery King.”
“No,” she shakes her head immediately, “No—if anyone is going against the Table, it’s gonna be me. I’ll step down and you guys continue what we’ve done here for decades. I will not have you all die because of my cousin's mess.”
“With all due respect, ma’am,” Hangman politely grabbed her attention. “It’s not up to you. Even if you step down, we still can join him if we please. So why not do it together. Because we’re not letting you go alone.” Everyone agrees with murmurs and nods, causing Y/n to drop her head between her shoulders.
“We’re talking war. Against the High Table—not some single crime syndicate we’ve dealt with before, this is all twelve seat holders, the Elder, and all their subordinates. Which we—,” she gestures to all of them, “we are those subordinates. This goes past New York…it’s the whole fucking world.”
“We know,” Payback says with confidence. “We know the risk, Dom. We’re willing to take it.”
Y/n connects her gaze with each member, seeing the determination in their eyes causing an emotion she couldn’t describe to swarm through her. What she didn’t know was they each were on board the second Rooster and Halo revealed the Bowery King’s offer. Seeing their friend and comrade nearly die by following the rules they all swore to obey ignited a fire in them. They were after revenge. Who’s to say the Table wouldn’t come after them in the future. Better to stop them now before that could happen.
The assassin was having trouble grasping it all. This was her family. The people she trusted most in the world. John was once that person, and right now he has a lot to do to gain it back, but if he joins the cause then they could be unstoppable. And from what the King told her, he was confident by dawn John would be involved.
“Okay,” she says softly. “We do this as a team. The same way we’ve always done. But no one—,” she lifts a finger to emphasize her point, “no one steps out of line or goes rogue because an opportunity arises. We have to play this safe. We need to be tactical in our approach. Even if it takes weeks, months, hell, even a year or more before we see some action, then we will be patient. The Bowery King, John, maybe even Winston if the old man doesn't become a snake, all of us know the best thing to do is hit the Table when they are at their most vulnerable. When that happens….it will break before our eyes.”
Seven Hours Later….
John looked lifeless as he laid on the cold ground. Who could blame him really after he fell over ten stories while hitting obstacles that broke his fall. Not even five minutes after he landed a white van pulled up in the narrow alley, Harvard and Yale hopping out from the back to drag the man into the vehicle. Before they could close the doors a gray pit bull jumped in, licking John’s face. Recognizing the dog as the one Y/n warned them about, they shut the doors and yelled for Coyote to start driving.
When they got to meet up point, John was handed off to one of the Bowery King’s surviving men, wheeling John into the underground tunnel they had all taken up camp. Coyote ditched the van with all three sneaking into the tunnel, careful for prying eyes. Once in the tunnel they got to work with half of the Daggers while the other half accompanied Domino where the King was located. Like the Top Gun boss, the King had stitches on his face and neck. His cuts were smaller than the one she received, but enough to do damage.
“How you doing, John?” He asked from his throne. John’s dog made himself comfortable on the couch. Off to the side, barely seen with the limited light stood Rooster, Hangman, Payback, Fritz, and Phoenix. “You look as bad as I feel,” he started to laugh the same way he did over the phone, setting down his orange soda, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Raise a hand if you can hear me, John.”
With a tremor, John lifted his left hand to raise his index and middle fingers, making the King go, “Oh shit. They took a finger. Ain’t that a bitch?” His laugh increased in volume when John maneuvered the hand to show only his middle finger. The rumble of his chest from laughing made the King groan from the pain of his injuries there.
“Oh John. Fucking. Wick. So, the old boy keeps his hotel and you take the fall. Can’t say I blame him I would’ve done the same thing if I was in his shoes,” he pauses to inhale as he moves to stand from his throne, “But this High Table shit. Seven cuts. You should see what they did to your cousin. In fact, she’s right here.” A cane is in his hands when he begins to move closer to John.
The heels of Y/n’s boots echo, the light hitting her stitched face when she comes to stand beside the King. “Damn,” she mutters with a grimace. “That fall sure did a number on you, Johnny boy.” John doesn’t look at her, he keeps his head down the entire time. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here? I was hoping to be rid of ya after last week. Funny how fate works.”
The Bowery King chuckles, focusing back on John. “Under the table is where shit gets done. And they about to find out if you cut a king, you better cut him to the quick. So,” he lowers himself to the ground, holding onto his cane. “Let me ask you, John, how you feel?” John pants, face still hidden by his raggedy hair. The King speaks with menace, “‘Cause I am really. Pissed. Off. Are you pissed off, Dom?”
Y/n crouches down, elbows resting on her hips as her one eye stares down on her bloodied cousin. Her tone is the same as the King’s, “I’m really fucking pissed off. You pissed, John?”
“Hmm?” The King awaits his answer, hands shaking from how angry he was. “Are you?”
The fallen man finally starts to move, the two watching closely as he holds himself up on his hands. When he turns to face them, they finally see his bruised face, but they are more drawn to his eyes. He’s absolutely pissed the fuck off.
“Yeah.”
………………
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angelzrose · 4 years
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Mobile Masterlist
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Welcome to my mobile masterlist! Here you’ll find the list of celebs and fandoms I write for. If you’d like a specific imagine, preference, or drabble, feel free to send in your request.
*Note: I don’t write any NSFW or smut stuff, so please don’t ask.
Dana XOX
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326 notes · View notes
omahasquad-queen · 2 years
Text
hi this is an archive of an old account i used run under the same name!! if you happen to have any or know any blogs that have reposted any of my old writing i would be very very grateful if you could lmk!! 😚😚😚
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