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topguncortez · 1 year

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Bad Medicine | Chapter 2

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word count: 5.4k

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good. MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

WARNINGS: death/murder, guns, violence, physical abuse, cursing, mentions of prostitution, mentions of murder, grief, blood, nudity, mentions of drugs, mentions of a brothel

Y/N’s apartment looked over the upper East Side of New York. It was a cute little place that was within walking distance to the club. It gave her both things that she loved, the chaotic life that came with living in New York, and privacy to where she felt safe coming home at night. And that was partially because of Rueben, aka Payback, her bodyguard that Rafael had hired when she moved back to New York. That was part of Rafael’s deal in sending Y/N back to New York, she had to have a bodyguard. Y/N was smart though, and could figure out how to leave her bodyguards in the dust and jet off around the world, except Rueben could see right through that all.

Y/N stood on the balcony, taking in her surroundings for the last time. She hadn’t stood out on the balcony in a long time. Good and bad memories filled her mind as she held her cup of tea close to her body for some warmth. Images of her relationship with Francisco filled her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She also thought about all the good times she had while working at the club. Sure it wasn’t the best job she could ever have, but she loved the girls she worked with. She was probably going to miss them more than anything.

“Y/N?” Gianni asked softly, “You ready?”

Y/N and Rueben had spent the whole night packing. She looked over at the small carryon and purse sitting on her bed. She packed the essentials to make the trip over. Her brothers would be sending the rest of her clothing in the coming weeks.

Y/N took a deep breath, she wanted to tell him no. She didn’t know a thing about Jake Seresin, to the internet it was like the man didn’t exist. She knew that he supposedly studied law at University of Texas, but never went past that. He took over for his father when he had a heart attack nearly two years ago. It was all fabricated bullshit about “Seresin Enterprises” and how they bought several blocks of casinos and clubs in both Vegas and San Diego. Apparently they had been on the FBI’s radar for sometime due to an underground boxing and prostitution ring. However, they claim no such truth about it. Which was something all mobsters said.

“Y/N, we gotta get headed to the airport. The Don is mad we held it off this long,” Paulo said walking into her room. Y/N sighed and walked into the room, leaving the warmth of the morning sun, “You got what you need?”

“Yeah, Payback took my bags to the car,” She answered and fixed herself in the mirror. She wore a simple skin tight black dress and paired it with matching black heels. Her tan skin looked sunkissed compared to the dark colors. She looked around at her barren apartment and frowned. She didn’t have a lot of stuff to begin with, but seeing it all boxed up made her feel kind of sad. Y/N nodded, and Gianni gently led her through the house and towards the waiting car.

“Wait,” Y/N said, and turned to face her brother, “Have you heard from Sophie? I haven’t heard from her since she left for Greece and I know she’d want to be a part of this wedding bullshit.”

Paulo looked at his two brothers, as if to tell them to keep their mouths shut. Narciso clenched his jaw and Gianni whistled, looking away from his little sister.

“I have not heard from Sophie,” Paulo answered, “But I’ll make sure someone reaches out to her.”

“She’d kill me if I got married and she wasn’t there for it,” Y/N smiled sadly and pulled her phone out, dialing the number again. Paulo ushered her into the car as Sophie’s phone went to voicemail again. Y/N sighed and left her yet another voicemail.

When Y/N arrived at the small private airport she noticed the black SUVs and armed men that were standing around. She would try and make a break for it if it weren’t for the military style weapons ready to fire at any moment. One would think that the president or some diplomat was about to land, but in reality, it was just some man from Italy. Although the Santiagos had slowly defeated their enemies over the years, some still lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

The Don stepped out of his own vehicle when the Santiago siblings arrived. He looked pissed and Paulo fixed his suit as he walked over to talk to him. The patriarch stared his daughter down through the dark tinted glass of the SUV. She gulped and looked over at Payback who simply shrugged. He didn’t want to do this anymore than she wanted.

“Do you want to make things easy?” Payback asked and Y/N nodded, “Don’t try and fight every little thing he says.”

“You know me better than that Rueben,” Y/N smirked, and opened her car door. Her heels clicked across the ground as she walked up to her father. His stare sent a shiver down her spine, and it made her hold her head up higher, trying to show him that she was not afraid.

“No funny business, Y/N. You get on the plane here and off in San Diego. I hear you made the pilot take you to England or Paris, I will cut off the expenses for the wedding,” Rafael threatened Y/N. The girl rolled her eyes, “We’ve set up for you to be married to Jacob in four weeks.”

“Four fucking weeks?!” Y/N cursed and was met with another backhand across her face.

“Watch your fucking mouth,” The Don yelled, “This is why you couldn’t find a husband on your own.”

“Maybe if you would give me a damn chance!” Y/N yelled.

“Why? So you could find someone else to murder someone in our family?!”

Y/N clenched her jaw and looked away from him. She had heard it almost every year since her mother’s death, Rafael never let her live it down. What happened to her mother was one of the worst things that Y/N and her family could’ve gone through, but no one knew that Francisco would turn his anger towards Marie. Her brothers forgave her for what happened, but Rafael still held it over her head.

“Are none of you going to say anything!?” Y/N yelled at her brothers. They were all looking down at the ground, not bothering to jump in and say anything, “Spineless fucking idiots,” Y/N cursed and licked her lips, “I’ll see you in hell, Rafael.”

Rafael stood with his head up, his jaw clenched as he watched Y/N and Rueben walk up the plane steps. She sat down in a chair that was by the window. She watched as her brothers wouldn’t look at the plane, but the Don looked like he was ready to give an order to shoot it down. Y/N knew once the plane took off he would scold her brothers for telling her about Francisco, but the Don didn’t dare punish the boys in front of her or anyone else. People needed to know the boys were untouchable, but Y/N’s life was useless.

“Miss Santiago, can I get you anything to drink?” The flight attendant asked.

Y/N looked around the small jet and noted who the security was. There was, of course, Reuben and what looked to be like his new partner. Rafael hardly let Y/N go without two guards. The last one had been killed because the Don caught Y/N and him together. The new guy was all of 6 foot tall, with tan skin and a scar running down his face. His dark hair was gelled back and it looked like he had just bought a new black suit and dress shoes. Payback could see the glint in her eye and knew exactly what was going to happen next.

“Well, Rueben will have a Hangman IPA, I’ll take whatever red wine you have open, and a glass of whiskey for the Rookie,” Y/N smirked. Payback rolled his eyes, knowing Y/N’s plan like the back of his hand. This wasn’t the first flight he had taken with her and some new rookie, he had seen this episode before.

“We can’t just have one plane ride where you leave the Rookies be?” Reuben asked, and Y/N just smiled, “You know what’ll happen.”

“Then why not enjoy the fun while it lasts,” Y/N said as the flight attendant handed her the glass of wine, “Leave the bottle please, dear.”

“Laying it on thick,” Payback said, taking out his headphones.

“My life has been signed away, Reuben. These are my last moments of freedom until I have to go wait on some mobster hand and foot,” Y/N said and Rueben frowned. He glanced outside the window to see that the black SUVs that carried her family were gone.

“Fine,” He muttered, “Just know this one is on you.”

“Of course,” Y/N nodded, her eyes going over to the Rookie who was seemingly confused. She just gave him a wink, and settled back in her chair as the pilot told them to prepare for take off. Y/N closed her eyes, she wasn’t ever a fan of planes taking off, she always felt like she was going to fall right out of the sky.

Once the plane got up to cruising altitude, Y/N opened her eyes and looked at the Rookie, “Have you ever joined the Mile High club?”

“N-no, ma’am,” He said. He had a thick country accent, making him out to probably be from the South.

“Perfect,” Y/N smiled and stood up, taking his hand in hers and leading him to the private bedroom in the back of the plane. Payback groaned in annoyance, and pulled his earbuds out of his pocket. He settled them in his ears before going back to look through his magazine.

“They never learn.”

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

When the plane finally touched down in San Diego, California, the skyline was already starting to light up. Y/N smiled, noticing the familiar sight of the skyscrapers in the distance. Rueben followed behind her, straightening out his suit, and looking at The Rookie behind him who had a smirk plastered on his face. He felt like the king of the world having bodied the princess of the Italian Mob. The Rookie fixed his suit jacket and ran a hand over his gelled back hair.

“Good evening Miss Santiago, my name is Martin, and I’ll be handling your movement from the airport to the Seresin compound,” Martin was a middle aged man who had salt and pepper hair. Y/N held her hand out and Martin kissed the back of it. Y/N’s favorite pastime was making men bow to her like she was the Queen of England. In a way, Y/N was a queen, the mafia queen. If Y/N was into old men, Martin would be added as another name on her list.

“How was your flight? Everything went smoothly, I assume?” Martin asked, as he ushered Y/N towards the awaiting white Range Rover. Her father hated white cars. He said it made them stand out too much and put a bigger target on their backs.

“Yes the flight went very well,” Y/N said, and glanced over her shoulder at the Rookie. He smirked to himself, and fixed his suit jacket. He felt like he was the king of the word having bagged the Italian Mob king’s daughter. But that feeling was short lived as Rueben tightened the silencer on his gun, and then fired a shot into the Rookie’s skull.

“Clean this mess up,” Reuben said to the men standing by. Martin opened the door for Y/N, and she noticed a group of men picking up The Rookie’s body. She looked at Rueben who was tucking his gun back into the holster of his jacket.

“What?” Reuben asked, and Y/N nodded her head towards the body, “I told you not to.”

“Mood killer,” Y/N said and Rueben shook his head, shutting her door before getting into the front passenger seat.

The Seresin mansion sat in the neighborhood of Mission Hills, which was about ten minutes outside of San Diego. Y/N had only visited a handful of cities in the US, and had only been to California once. She understood why mobsters picked quite poor towns to set up shop. The busy hustle and bustle of the nearby ports could mask the terrors that the mobs did. Y/N eyed the prostitutes as they hung around the street corners in downtown San Diego.

“Those are someone's daughters,” Her mother used to say when they would pass a young female on the street in barely there clothing. Her mother would take them in, like stray cats, give them food and a place to bathe, before they would run off back to the streets they know.

“Everything is pretty close,” Martin explained as they drove through the busy streets, “It’s no European country side, but it suffices. Los Angeles is about two hours by car. San Fran is two hours by jet. Mr. Seresin has his own private jet. It’s one of the best ways to travel around. Sometimes, they’ll take a private train. Although, most of his work is done in Miramar or North Island.”

She knew that from the google search that she did. Jake owned a flight club and a bar in North Island called the Hard Deck. It was a quaint little place that attracted a lot of sailors to the area. It also just so happened to be where his brothel was set up. If there was anything Navy men loved more than causing a fight, it was getting pussy after a long trip out to sea.

“What is the legality of their business?” Y/N asked.

Payback looked at her in the rearview mirror, “You know what they do.”

“I can’t ask questions to get to know my future husband? I am going to be investing in this, so it is only fair that I know what he is doing.” She had a point and both Payback and Martin knew it. Y/N was smart and knew how to play her cards correctly, “Tell me what they do.”

“Mr. Seresin’s grandfather set up a very vast trading company back in New York during the twenties. The Seresins own and control almost 50% of the US trading ports. Seresin Trades is working on going global with the help of Mr. Santiago. Mr. Bob Floyd has been fast at work creating Seresin Industries, one of the fastest startup technology companies,” Martin said.

“A trading company,” Y/N tilted her head to the side, “How unique. And the brothels, fight rings, clubs, and casinos, those are just. . . extra amenities?”

“Athena,” Reuben warned.

Y/N held her hand up stopping Rueben, “Martin?”

Martin scoffed, “You act like your family is the greatest gift to God’s green earth.” As soon as the words left his lips, Martin regretted it.. Y/N glared at him through the rearview mirror and a cold sweat broke out down his back, “I apologize.”

“A little too late,” Reuben said and Y/N smirked.

If there was anyone who knew Y/N better than her own brothers, it was Rueben . He had become her personal bodyguard after Francisco attacked her and her mother’s death. Y/N had gotten too smart, she figured out how to run away from her guards. So Rafael hired Rueben , and the man watched her like a hawk. Y/N was never out of his sight. He had not only become her bodyguard, but also her closest confidant. She could tell him anything and everything.

Martin’s knuckles turned white with his grip on the steering wheel, as he turned on to a magnificent compound. The black gates rolled back as the SUV drove onto the marble driveway that was lined with black lamp posts. Buried behind the trees was almost like a castle. The Kiszka house stood tall, at least 3 stories, and had a complete wall of windows.

“Mr. Seresin likes windows. Makes him feel less caged in.” Martin said as he pulled up in front of the house. There was a large water fountain in the middle of the circle drive and Y/N could see water lilies floating around in the water.

“Lovely,” Y/N said. When the car came to a stop, her door was opened. She reached her hand out and a guard gently grabbed her hand, helping her out of the car. She smoothed down her dress as Rueben quickly rounded the car to her side, “Where is he?”

“I believe they are at the club, or getting ready to go,” Martin responded. The glass front door opened and an older woman stepped out of the house.

“Welcome Miss Santiago,” She introduced herself, and bowed her head softly,“I am Emile, I will be your personal attendant. Do you care for a glass of champagne, maybe even wine?”

Y/N took a step into the house, and looked around the foyer. It had high ceilings that opened into a glass grand staircase. Everything was red and white, giving the entrance a cold yet warm feeling. The living room was open, and had white leather couches and a fluffy black rug on the floor. Hanging above a roaring fireplace was a picture of a young man in a black suit. She stood in front of the picture, the man’s green eyes were enticing and almost as if they were locking her in a trance. She looked away at the sound of the front door opening and Rueben walking in.

“I’ll take a bottle of white,” Y/N said to Emile, “And please take the bottle to my room. Oh! And if you would, can you draw me a bath? I don’t like the feeling of blood on my hands.”

Rueben scoffed, “You’re one to talk.” She could see a smudge of blood on his collar, more than likely from killing Martin before he walked into the house.

“Yes, Miss,” Emile nodded and scurried off towards the kitchen. Y/N stepped farther into the house surveying everything. She walked over to a set of windows and glass sliding doors. She looked over the backyard, an infinity pool and giant garden that looked daunting at night, caught her eye. Y/N made a note of wanting to test the water in the pool at some point tonight.

“He would like you to come to the office,” A guard said, standing in the doorway of the living room.

Y/N turned around to see about ten or so men standing in the living room, all of them wearing black suits and ties.

“No,” Y/N responded, a smirk on her lips. Her eyes not leaving the reflecting water of the pool, and kicked off her heels. She reached for the zipper of her dress and undid it. Payback also knew this tactic, and rolled his eyes. Y/N let the sleeves of her dress fall down her shoulders, and shrugged the dress off, wearing absolutely nothing underneath. All the men standing around her tried to avert their eyes the best they could, but failed miserably.

“I want a bath first,” She said.

“I can’t let you do that,” The guard responded.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to him, “Do I turn you on?”

“I-I. . . Mr. Seresin had strict instructions-”

“I bet these pants are feeling pretty strict,” She let her hand shamelessly trail up and down his body, before landing over the clothed hard-on

“Please,” The guard practically begged. Y/N smirked as she gently palmed him, “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Y/N challenged. Before the guard could respond another gunshot rang through the house. Y/N shrieked as the guard’s body buckled and she moved out of the way to let him fall. She looked over at a tall man with curly hair, holding a gun out.

“That’s what I’m gonna do about it,” The gun wielding man said. He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his black dress pants. He was tall with beautiful brown eyes with scars on his face and neck. Y/N smirked and walked over to him, but he held his hand out, “Don’t think about it. Let’s fucking go.”

Y/N opened her mouth but squealed as he threw her naked body over his shoulder, “Hey! Put me down!” She yelled, hitting his back. The man tightened his grip on her body so he wouldn’t drop her as she kicked and squirmed in his arms, “Payback!”

Reuben took a step forward to try and intervene but was cut off by guards standing in front of him, “Just keep your mouth shut!”

Y/N felt a shiver run down her body, “I’ll fucking kill you,” She threatened the man.

“I’d like to see you try,” The man said and tossed her down onto a cold leather chair, “Wait here, don’t fucking move.”

Y/N looked around the office, seeing more pictures of the man from the living room. There was a bookshelf with tons of old leather books with gold writing. Y/N narrowed her eyes, reading the titles on the side, most of them were in Latin, but she could understand that they were law books. There was a large dark oak desk in front of her, which must belong to her future husband. On the wall behind the desk were various diplomas from colleges that he must’ve gone to.

He’s distinguished, Y/N thought to herself, and smart.

Y/N almost got out of her chair to go explore more things around his desk, when she heard the clicking of fancy dress shoes coming down the hall. She sucked in a breath as the door opened, and a beautiful blonde man with green eyes stood in the doorway. He was wearing all black, with his shirt rolled up to his elbows. He forewent the tie, and Y/N could see he was wearing a thin gold chain around his neck.

“You couldn’t give her the dignity to walk in here by herself? With her clothes on?” The blonde man asked.

“She didn’t want to,” The man with the gun shrugged and looked over at a man who was wearing a big pair of glasses, with a smirk, “We lost Martin and Dominick.”

“Fucking idiots,” The blonde cursed, “Welcome Y/N, I’m Jake, your new husband.” He held his arms out as if he were presenting some great prize. Y/N looked him up and down, he looked like the human version of Adonis, “My beauty stunned you into silence. It happens, sweetheart. But thank you for finally joining us.”

Y/N scoffed, “You basically bought me from my father to help your little group here get up and running.”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. You weren’t the pick of the crop I wanted,” Jake said, but then shrugged, “No offense.”

“Offense taken,” Y/N said, “What? I’m not good enough for you? You prefer underaged prostitute pussy instead? I bet, he-” She said pointing at the man with large glasses, “Would you like a taste?”

“Not my type either,” He said, “I like my pussy tight and silent.”

Jake chuckled and Y/N clenched her jaw. He walked towards her, his green eyes looking her up and down as if he were examining her. She felt like she was under a microscope and wanted to hide away. She was suddenly very aware that she was sitting naked in front of three guys who could easily kill her, and had no idea where Rueben was.

“Where are your clothes?” Jake asked.

“I like being naked,” Y/N smirked, sitting back in the chair, exposing more of her body. Jake looked like he was about to murder everyone in the room. He looked from her face to her chest, his eyes seemingly assessing every millimeter of skin, down her stomach and to her legs, which were crossed hiding her modesty. Y/N caught the wandering eyes of the men behind Jake, and slowly uncrossed her legs, opening them slightly. That was the final straw for Jake, as he moved quickly, snatching her up by her chin.

“I was told I was getting a mafia queen,” Jake spat, holding her throat tightly, “We got rules, sweetheart, and you’re going to listen to them, got it? Or I swear to god, I’ll fucking sell you for whatever your worth to the highest bidder. I’m sure these-” He said, tracing his fingers between her breasts, his knuckles brushing against the soft mound of skin, “could get me a pretty penny. Of course, the face is a little fucked up.”

Y/N clenched her jaw at the mention of the scar that ran down her face. Her eye socket had to be repaired and left a permanent scar, a constant reminder of what Francisco had done to her. It was easy for her to hide the other scars on her body, that one, was out in the open for everyone to see. Her mother told her to not hide what he did, to embrace it.

“Understand me?” Jake asked and Y/N nodded. He released her chin.

“Asshole,” Y/N said, before spitting in his face. Jake clenched his jaw, and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back to look up at him.

“Don’t fucking test me, sweetheart,” Jake seethed, “I won’t hesitate to throw you down on the pew, I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is. Don’t fuck with me, doll.” Y/N trembled and nodded. Jake picked up her body and put her down on the wooden chair, harshly. Her ass still stung a bit from where the curly haired man had thrown her down earlier.

“If you’re done being a brat, I’d like to introduce you to my right hand men. The one that brought you in here was Rooster, he’s in charge of security. You need to go somewhere, you take it up with him. If he tells you ‘no’ you don’t fucking argue. This is Bob,” Jake said, pointing to the man with the glasses, “He’s intelligence. Don’t try to fucking go somewhere or call someone or do something fucking stupid cause he’ll find out about it and I’ll kill you.”

“And what do you do?” Y/N asked.

Jake smiled, “I’m the Hangman. I am the reason this whole place ruins and operates. The face of the family and the company.”

“Bob would’ve made a cuter face,” Y/N said and looked at the man. Bob couldn’t help but chuckle, but Jake quickly shot him a glare. Y/N sent him a wink though, which made his ears turn red.

Jake crossed his arms over his chest, “I’ve got a couple rules. One, don’t be in my way or anyone else's way. Two, don’t fucking speak to me unless you are spoken too. And three, don’t piss me off. If you follow those three rules. . . I don’t see why this relationship won’t work out great.”

“Because you’re a fucking psychopathic murderer.”

“Says the one who’s gotten three men killed in your first two hours of being here,” Jake said.

Y/N smiled, “You say that?”

Jake leaned his hands on either side of the chair she was sitting on. She could smell is cologne and see a thin scar by his eyebrow, “I see everything,” He spoke softly, “Go fucking clean yourself off. I don’t want to see your face until tomorrow.” Jake said and turned to walk out of the office, “Actually, I don’t want to see your face at all, unless I fucking ask to see you, which I probably won’t. I don’t want you here any less than you actually want to be here. If I knew you were a part of the expansion gun deal we made, I would’ve never fucking made it.”

Y/N tried to not let his words sting. She had heard worse from her father, but there was something about hearing it from someone else. Y/N turned her head to the side as Jake and the boys left the office with a slam of the door. As soon as the door shut, she let the tears roll down her face. She waited a minute before she got up from the wooden chair and walked out of the office. She was suddenly very aware that she was stark naked in a mobster’s house.

She moved softly as she walked down the hallway, trying to avoid the eyes of the workers in the house. Y/N looked up and noticed Emile walking towards her with a robe. The older woman smiled softly at her and handed her the robe. Y/N nodded and wrapped it tightly around her body. Emile gently wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders, guiding her over to the grand staircase and up to the second floor.

“Mr. Jacob and the boys went out for the night,” Emile said. She had a heavy french accent that reminded Y/N of some of the older maids back home at her father’s mansion, “I ran a bath and had some of the other guards bring your belongings into your room. Any specific way to put your clothing away?”

Y/N shook her head, “I can get that tomorrow when the rest of my things arrive. Thank you, Emile.”

“You are very welcome, Miss,” Emile said, nodding her head as they stood outside one of the bedrooms, “The master bedroom,” Emile said, pushing open two wooden doors. Y/N’s jaw dropped at the sight of the bedroom. It was white with red accents that reminded her of the suit that Jake wore. Hanging above a california king bed was a picture of the fucker himself. Y/N scoffed, of course, he had a picture of himself hanging above the bed, “Mr. Jacob doesn’t stay here. He prefers a bed on the third floor with his brothers.”

“They are all very close?” Y/N asked and Emile nodded.

“Very close. They all served together in the Navy.”

Now that was one thing the internet did not tell Y/N. That meant one of two things, they never served long enough to make an impact, or the Navy was trying hard to keep them all a secret. Whatever the reason was, Y/N was going to find out more about it.

Y/N walked over and ran her hands on the satin bed sheets. They were soft and still smelled like the packaging. The room had an overall cold feeling to it, like no one had ever stayed in the room. Y/N could tell that the paint on the walls wasn’t the original colors. She could see the slight difference in paint colors as the walls met at the ceiling. She ran her hands over the footboard of the bed, humming to herself as she did.

“Is that tune from ‘Annie’?” Emile asked, and Y/N lifted her head, smiling.

“It is.”

When Y/N was little, before she knew most about what her family did for a living, she used to play around like she was the little Orphan Annie first coming to Daddy Warbucks’ house. She used to play the song ‘I Think I’m Gonna Like it Here’ while running up and down the halls with her mother, making the butlers and the maids sing along with her. She did it at every house she moved into, it was one of the good memories she had with her mother.

Y/N paused and looked at the picture above the bed, and then at Emile, “When will they be back?”

“Oh, they stay out very late,” Emile answered, “I see them leave at night and stumble around the next morning with hangovers.” She smiled and sighed, “Your bath is waiting for you, dear. Any questions, don’t be scared to ask.”

“Thank you.” “They aren’t all monsters,” Emile said, “Just a little rough around the edges. You know what they say, ‘only the good die young’.”

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princessmisery666 · 2 years

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The Fall - Part 2 Under The Radar Mini Series

Summary: Jake has proven he’s an asshole; you shouldn’t be surprised when he proves it again at graduation. But at least graduating means you’ll be free of him, or does it?

Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, injury described, fluffy Rooster, sex references.

W/C: 3k

Rating: M (mature)

Characters: Lieutenant Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Lieutenant Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, fem!reader (You. Call sign: Huntress), some needed OC’s.

Pairing: past Hangman x Fem!Reader, Rooster x Fem!Reader, Hangman x OFC.

Notes: no descriptions of reader body type or ethnicity. Takes place before Top Gun: Maverick. First-time recruits at Top Gun.

A/N: I am blown away by the response to part 1, thank you for every like, reblog and comment. I hope this part doesn't disappoint.

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch / all mistakes still belong to me.

Graphics: title card made by me Dividers: @writercole

Master Lists: Under The Radar // Main //

The Fall

It’s here. Finally. The day you and your fellow classmates graduate Top Gun. Jake’s assholery got you set back two weeks with having to have medicals, but you're filled with an abundance of pride that after putting in some extra work and with Rooster’s help, you’re standing beside your colleagues on the deck of the USS Enterprise.

The speeches are finally coming to a close, you’re all congratulated and told, “now the real hard work starts,” and you can’t wait to get out there. The formalities are done, and you get to relax and celebrate with your families.

Rooster’s mom and dad have passed away, and after the Jake incident, the two of you have grown closer, so he huddles with your family. He and your father start talking about football, and you know the conversation will be a lengthy and passionate one. You catch Rooster’s eye and mouth, “are you okay?”

He winks and gives you a thumbs up with a big smile before focusing back on your dad. You take a deep breath, breathing in the atmosphere. You scan the deck of the ship, watching happy reunions of families that have been separated for a while, the proud smiles of parents and siblings. It’s electric and joyful.

“Oh, he’s a handsome one,” your mom says, and you follow the subtle point of her finger.

Jake.

Like mother, like daughter, you guess. He sees you both looking and gives a dull smile with the tiniest of waves, but you give him nothing in return - not even a dirty look.

Jake’s tried to speak to you all of four times. But you don’t make eye contact unless you have to or by mistake and only speak to him when absolutely necessary. You don’t even bust his balls, make no snide comments or react to him in any way. You haven’t since the night you broke his nose, almost two months ago. Figures that it healed perfectly aligned with his dumb face as if nothing had ever happened.

You turn your back on him and focus on your mother. “Yeah, that’s Jake Seresin,” you mutter.

“Let’s go say hi,” she suggests, already making a beeline for him. “I want to meet the rest of your class.”

“No, Mom!” you say, but it's too late; she’s already five steps away and not listening. You have no choice but to chase after her.

By the time you’ve caught up, your Mom has introduced herself and is shaking Jake’s hand while he introduces her to his parents. “And this is Amelia,” he says, pointing to the pretty blonde woman beside him. You assume it's his sister. “Everyone, this is Y/N Y/L/N, also known as Huntress.”

“Oh, hi!” Amelia says happily, rushing to clasp your hand in a friendly handshake. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Hi. I’m sorry I don’t know who you are,” you shrug, “Seresin isn’t much of a sharer. Are you his sister?”

She laughs brightly and rolls her eyes as if she’s used to the question. But the way she gently wraps her small hand around Jake’s bicep, you know before she says it aloud, your assumption is wrong. “No, I’m his girlfriend. It’ll be three years next month.”

Three years. It rings in your ears like a siren. You see Jake’s whole body tense up, and you know he’s panicking. You feel a little sick. He’s made you the other woman.

“Wow, three years. Maybe it’s time you make an honest man of him,” you jest and not so gently punch Jake on the arm. You hope you hit the nerve, and it goes numb. Amelia laughs with you, a slight blush on her cheeks.

Jake’s mom asks your mom a question and the group seems to focus on that. You can feel Jake’s eyes boring into you, and when you finally look at him, his expression is both pleading for forgiveness and thanking you for not throwing him overboard without a life jacket. He mouths, “Thank you.”

Not ‘I’m sorry.’ It makes you furious. He’s never sorry because there are never any consequences to his actions. He smiles that perfect teeth smile that makes his tanned skin glow, and everyone forgives him. Not this time. Still, you’re not going to embarrass Amelia and cause a scene.

In return, you mouth, “go fuck yourself.” You know he understands as his shoulders slump and he averts his eyes. As soon as it seems polite to do so, you excuse yourself and go in search of Rooster.

“Three years!” you practically yell at Rooster back in your dorm later that night. “Three fucking years, and she has no idea. I mean, how many women have we seen him take home?”

Rooster listens without interruption to your rant. He should be used to it by now. Outside the confines of your room, you're completely and utterly impartial to Jake. Bradley jokes that you should have an acting career because you're so good at feigning indifference, but you don’t hold back inside your dorm and when Rooster is a willing ear to vent to.

“And now he’s made me the other woman! I should go break his nose again.”

“You should,” Bradley agrees from his spot on your bed. “I wholeheartedly agree and approve of this idea.”

You chuckle, but only because your tears for Jake Seresin ran dry a long time ago. “I’d just get my ass suspended.”

“Okay, I take it back. I like your ass, and I don’t want to see it suspended.”

That makes you laugh properly. He’s a goofball, but he always makes you smile. He waits until you’ve stopped laughing and then looks you dead square in the eye, “as much as I love to see your ass pacing up and down while you moan about Hangman, can we open our letters now?” he asks.

“Fuck yes,” you say, forgetting about Jake and grabbing the sealed envelopes from your nightstand.

You both rip them open and unfold the piece of paper.

“San Diego,” you both yell simultaneously. It's the assignment you wanted.

Bradley’s smile is so broad it's almost funny, but before you can comment on how thoroughly ecstatic he looks, he’s hooked an arm around your waist and pulls you into him. His lips press against yours. For a moment, you think he’ll step back and make an overly dramatic “mwah” sound. But he doesn’t. He holds you tight, and when your arms slip around his neck, his tongue prods your bottom lip, and as soon as your tongues meet, you melt against him.

Breathlessly, you part, and his cheeks have a crimson hue. “Sorry, I just… I’ve wanted to do that for a hot minute, and this just seemed like a good time. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head, clearing the shock. “Unless you don’t want to do it again?”

“I absolutely want to do it again,” he says and follows through in doing it.

There’s a loud knock on your door, and you both jump apart as if whoever it is can see through the wood. You look at one another and burst into a fit of laughter before you open it.

It’s Jake. Not surprisingly, the laughter dies immediately.

“Y/N, let me,” he starts, but you're already closing the door on him until he slams his palm against it. “Let me explain, please.”

“I don’t need an explanation, Seresin. I already know you’re an asshole. I shouldn’t be surprised when you demonstrate it time and time again.”

“Hey, Bagman,” Bradley calls from behind you. “What assignment did you get?”

“San Diego,” he smiles, smug as if he expects he’s the only one.

Fuck! Now there’s really no escaping him.

“Us too,” Bradley answers for you, and Jake’s face loses its color a second before you slam the door closed.

A few months later.

The adrenaline is still pumping through his veins when he watches you step off the helicopter. The mission failed; Jake fucked it up trying to prove a point. A point he no longer remembers needed to be made, and as a consequence, you had to bail. The few seconds between ejection and seeing your chute were the longest of his life.

He wants to hug you. To make sure you’re real, that his mind isn’t playing tricks on him, and you’re not actually burning in the fireball that became your jet. He can’t. He won’t because he knows you’d more than likely break his nose again if he ever tried. Still, that wouldn’t hurt more than the heat of your disregard toward him.

He’s not sure how to explain it but losing you, you not talking to him, it’s like a deathless death. Numbing and dark. And he desperately wants to be revived.

As you get closer, he sees the scratches on your cheek, a rip above the left knee of your jumpsuit, a nasty-looking cut still oozing red, making you limp. It must have been a hard landing, he suspects, amongst trees.

“Huntress,” he says. You look through him. There’s that indifference shining through. You don’t even care enough to call him out on his shit for screwing up the mission. That’s probably what hurts the most - your indifference to him. “Y/N, please,” he pleads.

Despite the pain it must cause, you stand to attention, and Jake sees Admiral Hart over his shoulder and immediately does the same, falling in line next to you.

“We lost comms. What the hell happened out there?” Admiral Hart asks.

This is it - strike number three. Jake will have his marching orders and be gone before the sun sets.

“I made a miscalculation, sir,” you say before Jake can. Jake looks at you, and your expression is non-negotiable. You’ve chosen to tell the lie, and he has to go along with it. It will only land you both in more hot water if he contradicts you now. Still, you're taking a risk. Neither of you knows at which point communication was lost, so you could be digging your own grave.

Yet you keep shoveling. “I made a bad decision, and it cost us the mission. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Sorry?” He shouts. “Nine months of planning and infiltration just went up in smoke, along with your eighty million dollar jet, and you’re sorry?”

It’s a rhetorical question, and you both remain silent.

“You’re done here. Lieutenant Seresin, escort Lieutenant Y/L/N to medical, then back to the dorm to gather her things and directly to my office,” he commands before focusing his gaze on you. “I’ll have a new assignment for you by then.”

“Sir,” Hangman starts, but you take a step forward and interrupt him, speaking louder, “I understand, sir.”

Jake’s trying, he really is, but you can’t bring yourself to forgive or forget. It’s all still too raw. Every time you see him, you fight the urge to shy away with embarrassment. You're not embarrassed about the things you did. The things you're into are nothing to be ashamed about. But you are ashamed that you opened up and trusted someone who so very clearly didn’t deserve to see those parts of you, emotionally or physically.

Though you never respond when Jake brings it up, he just kind of talks at you; he’s still never said he’s sorry. Not that you’d ever believe him if he did apologize.

So why did you step up and take the blame for something he did?

You knew the fuck up was enough to be reassigned. No doubt you’ll be grounded for some time too. So why take the punishment when Jake deserves it and more?

You tell yourself it's the reassignment, knowing there was a way out, a way to be free of him without giving some weak ass excuse and asking for a transfer.

“Y/N,” Jake says as you limp your way toward the Admiral’s office, bag slung over your shoulder. “I’m going to come clean.”

“No, you’re not!” you snap, still facing forward, refusing to look at him. “We’ll both be punished, and where’s the sense in that?”

“Where's the sense in you taking the fall for me?”

“Cause it gives me an out,” you admit. “I get to get the hell away from you, and there’s no price too high to pay for that.”

He stops dead in his tracks, and you continue walking. “You don't even care enough to hate me, do you?” Jake asks.

His tone carries so much sorrow, and it’s begging you to disagree. You almost feel sorry for him. But you tell yourself you feel nothing for him.

“Nope,” you say, without missing a beat. “I’d say it was nice knowing you, Seresin, but I’d be lying.” You throw a peace sign over your shoulder.

Admiral Hart must take pity on you as he allows you to say goodbye to Bradley. He’s pacing the common room when you eventually find him.

“What the hell happened?” he asks, seeing you limping, and rushes toward you to help. He cups your face assessing the scratches and bruises forming. “Some guys said the mission was a bust, and you had to eject?”

“I did, but I’m fine,” you reassure him, “I busted my knee up pretty good, but otherwise, I’m good.”

“What happened?”

Hangman.

“It doesn’t matter,” you say and avert your eyes.

“Y/N,” Bradley tries again, knowing your avoidance in answering means something.

You sigh and drop to a seat on the arm of the nearest chair. You don’t want to get into yet another discussion about Hangman. There are only so many times you can confirm someone is an asshole, and you’re running out of colorful ways to say it. “You know what happened.”

“Hangman,” he asses correctly. “He fucked up and blamed you.”

“He didn’t blame me,” you're quick to say. “I told them it was me.”

“Why?”

You don’t know how to answer that in a way that makes any sense, so you stay quiet.

“Y/N!”

“Bradley, can we not?” you ask, volume raised. “I don’t have much time. Transport is waiting.”

“Transport?”

“They grounded me for a year, and I’m being reassigned.”

“What? No. That's not fair.” he starts to ramble about Hangman and how he needs to step up and take responsibility. He’s so animated, arms flailing, pacing back and forth, fists clenching and unclenching. “I can’t lose you. Not now. Not when I’ve just got you.”

“Bradley, Bradley,” you coo, standing in his path and putting your hand on his cheek. “I’ve been reassigned to Maverick.”

His relationship with Maverick is strained at the best of times, but you wanted him to hear the news from you. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist.

“We don’t have any time, do we?” Bradley asks sorrowfully.

No, you don’t. You’ve only really just started your relationship, it’s been tough to find time with training and being in a new place, but you were working on it. There’s a deep pit in your stomach, and it dawns on you, perhaps too late, that your desire to be free of Hangman has cost you, Bradley. You want to take it all back, go to the Admiral and tell the truth, but you’re not sure if the punishment for lying will be worse.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice cracking, and he dips to kiss you softly.

“We’ll make it work,” he whispers, “I swear. We’ve got some time off coming up; we can go on vacation.”

“We’ll make it work,” you promise the same before he kisses you harder and deeper.

Six months later.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds. The Hard Deck hasn’t changed, and Hangman hopes it never does. The nostalgia is rampant. A memory of you surfaces in every corner he looks into, making him smile.

The jukebox, where you spent a few hours discussing music and kissing him whenever your opinions aligned. The bathroom, where unbeknownst to Coyote and Rooster as they sang a warbled version of “Danger Zone,” you gave him the best head of his life. He can’t hear that song without his cock twitching. The beach where you broke his nose. Even that, as painful as it was, makes him smile because it was a time when you cared enough to hate him.

He throws the third dart and hits the bullseye, the point embedding next to the other two. “That’s a fluke,” Coyote states, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m just that good, my friend.”

Coyote retrieves the darts and hands them back to him, holding a hand over his eyes as he lines up the next shot. Bullseye.

“Ah, here comes trouble!” Coyote calls across the bar just as Jake prepares to fire again.

Jake turns to watch you maneuver through the crowd toward them, and Coyote steps up to envelop you in a hug. “What’s up, Y/L/N?” he greets.

“Surviving, Machado,” you reply, coming out of the embrace. You catch his eye and nod once, “Lieutenant Seresin.”

“Oh, someone’s still mad,” he jests to cover the seething jealousy that he can’t greet you in the same way.

“Water under the bridge,” you say, to his surprise. But there’s still an edge to your tone as if you’re saying it because you have to, not because you genuinely want to.

“Wow, okay,” he smiles.

“But I’m sure if anyone can find a way to burn that bridge, it's you, Hangman,” Rooster says, coming up behind him.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” you laugh and high-five Rooster.

It’s nice to be back on the old stomping grounds, but he realizes nothing has changed. He’s still hung up on you, and he still despises the relationship you have with Rooster.

Part 3 - Just A Kiss

Oh imagine that a handy reblog button....

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #rooster #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

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make-me-imagine · 1 year

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13 Days of Halloween 2022 Masterlist

All the links to the fics I released for 13 Days of Halloween in 2022.

Let me know if any links don't work or are missing!

Not all fics are strictly Hallowen based, but some are just spooky/suspense stories. *Those that say Halloween in orange next to it, are based on Halloween

(Main Masterlist)

Day 1: 'Stranded' - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x GN!Reader (creepy/suspense)

Day 2: ''Tis the Season' - Evan "Buck" Buckley x GN!Reader (gen/humor/cute/Halloween)

Day 3: 'Mischief' - John Sheppard x GN!Reader (gen/fun/cute/Halloween)

Day 4: 'Pumpkin Spice' - Eliot Spencer x GN!Reader (cute/fluff/gen)

Day 4 (Bonus): Marvel Halloween Scenario Game (Multi-Character/Halloween)

Day 5: 'What happens in the haunted house..." Jake "Hangman" Seresin x GN!Reader (humor/fluff/Halloween)

Day 6: 'Something Wicked This Way Comes' - Christopher Pike x GN!Reader - (suspense/creepy/action)

Day 7: 'Locked In' - Malcolm Bright x GN!Reader (humor/cute/Halloween)

Day 8: 'Ghost Stories' - Goodnight Robicheaux x GN!Reader (thriller/humor/fluff)

Day 9: 'Ghost Hunting' - Eddie Diaz x GN!Reader (thriller/humor/creepy/Halloween)

Day 9 (Bonus): UQuiz - 'What Autumn/Spooky Season "Thing" Are You?" (Halloween)

Day 10: 'Halloween Party' - Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia (cute/fun/Halloween)

Day 11: 'Shadows' - Darry Curtis x Gn!Reader (creepy/suspense)

Day 12: 'You Are What You Reap' - Enterprise Crew X Reader Antics and Established Erica Ortegas x GN!Reader (fun/suspense/gen/Halloween)

Day 13: 'Careful What You Wish For' - Stephen Strange x GN!Reader (suspense/horror/humor/Halloween)

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abliafina-18782 · 1 year

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Top Gun

something to come home to (Bradley Bradshaw x Reader)

After living and working in San Diego, you meet the handsome pilot Rooster at a bar one night.

melting the Ice (Icemav)

Two months after their mission onboard the Enterprise, Iceman finds out Maverick is leaving Top Gun. Enraged, he travels back to San Diego to find out what's been going on with his wingman...

hold my hand (Icemav)

Iceman reflects on his relationship with Maverick leading up to the mission.

A Seresin Serenade (Hangster)

Jake Seresin doesn't do gifts, but when he and his husband Bradley Bradshaw are approaching their one year wedding anniversary, he does what he can to give his husband the perfect gift.

Tomcat (Icemav)

Maverick was used to unexpected things happening in his hangar out in the desert. However, the seasoned captain was left clueless about what to do, when he found a sickly-looking kitten, hiding inside his hangar.

Mr & Mr Kazansky (Icemav)

Iceman and Maverick are secret agents that get tasked with killing each other, inspired by the movie Mr & Mrs Smith

Raspberry Beret (Icemav)

Soulmate AU, where you have matching symbols with your soulmate.

Effulgent (Icemav)

100 word ficlet exchange.

Sunshine & Roses (Hangster)

Flowershop & tattoo artist AU

Captain Mitchell (IceMav)

After more than twenty years of service, Maverick was due to receive his promotion from Commander to Captain. Maverick wasn’t ready to be a Captain, who was he kidding?

steal me with a kiss (Hangster)

What do you get when you take one ridiculously cocky model and one stubborn makeup artist? A recipe for disaster of course, but with some luck maybe the outcome won't be as bad as initially expected.

get your head in the game (Hangster)

Hangman thought he'd thrown in the towel when it came to his volleyball days, but when Rooster, the handsome team leader from another company, invites him to join the summer tournament he knows he's done for. There were worse fates than spending the day on the beach.

Raggedy Top Gun Manor (IceMav)

It is said that room 86 became haunted after Nurse Charlie died in there. She worked at the Top Gun Manor - a retirement home for naval aviators - until she laid down for a nap one day and never woke up. The Manor closed down after too many reports of bumps in the night and opened up again as a haunted house. Iceman never believed a word of it. Ghosts aren't real. Maverick, on the other hand, takes their jobs as tour guides way too seriously and it might bring them closer together than what anyone expected

To be continued

#my writing #writing #fanfic authors #ao3 writer #ao3fic #ao3 stuff

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ladyelissarose · 2 years

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Prologue of

“A Heart With Wings”

Constantine Rose Oceans, was 24 years old when she got into her profession, she had a Masters in Aeronautical engineering. Making her more than credited to enter. Though she knew everything about what any Navy plane or jet contained and how to fly them, for she had a license to for it, Oceans decided to chase a her mechanical career instead. Constantine, as known as ‘Connie’ chose to be a Aviation Structural Mechanic. At first she was stationed on USS Enterprise (CVN-65) where she was treated badly by her fellow co-workers, because of her determination to go by the book and being a perfectionist. While they tended to play off the rules. Fortunately, after an especially hard day, and while drunk and crying she vented to a stranger which was Penny at Hard Deck, she cried to her about her situation, leaving a very curious Captain that was near by listening on the look out for her. Then out of the blue, she was transferred and stationed on Aircraft Carrier USS Abraham Lincoln, where she met Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, and his fellow aviators. Maverick knew her past, only because he had read her profile, and was intrigued to shield her from unnecessary harm, that was part of the reason why he specifically chose her to be their specialized mechanic. Oceans became great and close friends with Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd. Sharing secrets and pranking everyone was their goal and what kept them sane. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, and Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, were more like her bodyguards for some times, then others her annoying brothers, but very soon she came to appreciate their presence. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, had become like an older brother to her, protecting her from anyone that dared to come in her way, just like Maverick, and he supported her from beginning to end, including her into the family he had made with Maverick. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin on the other hand, didn’t know how to feel about this certain sailor, his heart felt something different every time he was in the same room as her, but his mind tried to tell him that he was just overthinking. So, he chose to despise her instead, pushing her away with his boasting ego and sometimes hurtful words. His goal was to get her to hate him, which she was very close to, but soon she found out his truth to his game and chose to pursue it, hoping she’d change his mind. But Hangman’s heart was already hurt from someone in the past that had recently just broken his heart terribly, and just felt that falling for a Mechanic, another girl, would make it more painful. Beginning with he felt that she’d probably do the same to him, and also thought that falling in love was worthless because of the missions he had sometimes, that didn’t always promise his safe return. Little did he know, that no matter how much he broke Oceans heart, soon she’d be the one to mend him, with the strings he pulled on her heart. Showing him that it was more than possible, that he was more than possible.

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yearofcreation2023 · 10 months

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Year of Themed Creations: July 2023 Collection (in progress)

WORDS:

When It Comes To You by @flightlessangelwings - Year of Protectiveness Dialogue prompt- “ you need to get out of here! go! i’ll buy you some more time!“ Action prompt- [ REUNION ]: after spending a considerable length of time apart, the sender reunites with the receiver after saving their life from an immediate and potentially lethal threat. (Comandante Veracruz x fem!reader)

Not All Heroes Wear Capes by @all-the-things-2020 - Year of Fandom Crossovers Lt. Marcus Moreno is posted to the Enterprise after a stint at Starfleet headquarters. His daughter Missy is eager to go but is he ready to return to space after losing his wife? (Marcus Moreno)

Love at First Fight by @ironmandeficiency - Year of Idiots after a tavern visit, you seriously consider getting your eyes checked when you mistake an unassuming dwarf for your best friend’s ex. (bofur / reader)

Full-Time Problem by @never--doubt - Year of Soulmates In a universe where everyone has timers that freeze when they meet their soulmates, it's hard to focus on that when a war is brewing. What will Rey and Finn do when they figure out that Poe has already found his soulmate? (Poe Dameron x Female!Reader)

A Chance Taken by @ghostofskywalker - Year of Flowers It took a long time to get over the boy that you used to spend time with in the Senate building, but your lives took you in separate directions. But when he shows up during the Clone Wars with a dire warning for your planet, you don’t want to let him go without telling him how you feel. (Obi-Wan Kenobi/Reader)

Something Soft by @keldabe-kriff - Year of Small Joys More attempts at feeling out moments between Joel and Ellie, placed at a point when they have more trust in each other. Other than that it isn't any specific point in the timeline of the show. (Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, no pairing)

Is This How It Ends? Pt. 4 by @artemiseamoon - Year of Whump Memories from the past haunt Rhea as she reflects on a moment that could be the cause of Santiago's personality change. (Santiago, OC Rhea, Frankie Morales)

First Dance by @hopeamarsu - Year of Firsts You find yourself with the Red Viper of Dorne. What would you ask from him? (Oberyn Martell x gn!reader)

Saying I Love You Through An Accidental Kiss by @songsformonkeys - Year of Saying I Love You I think the title is pretty self-explanatory. Unbeta'd. (Joel Miller x reader Pre outbreak)

Buck Moon by @grogusmum - Wheel of the Year This is a companion to my one shot Your Spot Okay, I should admit from the jump. This is not all that pagany. It’s smut. Sorry. But not really. Oops. I just, okay, this is what happened on Frankie Friday, I was thinking about him and Rocket. I also kind of got interested in the challenge of writing a smut for a gender neutral reader, if I could manage it. Fingers crossed. (Frankie Morales x gn!Reader)

Bird Strike by @captainsophiestark - Year of Olympians Prompt: Apollo; light, the sun, truth, inspiration, medicine, healing. Summary: A bird strikes brings Hangman down and leads to confessions from him and Rooster’s sister. (Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader)

#year of themed creation #july

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter One: Confidence.

Chapter Summary: There’s a lesson here somewhere, but you aren’t ready to figure it out. Setting up a meeting with Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin to see if he would consider a merger is the last thing you knew your late father would want you to do.

Warnings: Jake Seresin x F!reader. Mafia/Gang related themes. Sexual tension. Age Gap. Mentions of guns.

Word Count: 3.4K

Author Note: So, if you originally read this in the Dolan Twins fandom way back in the day—shut the fuck up no you did not. I will deny deny deny….. This series will be updated once a week on Sundays

Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two |

The first time you met Jacob Seresin was at one of your fathers monthly meetings between himself and Jake's father. Carl ‘The Carver’ Seresin. He got his title from the carvings he’d leave on his enemies' faces. He’d slash them with a razor blade so deep that the scars left behind were undeniably noticeable and incredibly trademarkable. Meeting once a month became a common occurrence to make sure an all-out war didn’t ensue between the rival gangs. The Death Adders and the Katipo. Although bloodshed and violence were always an issue between members in the streets, as long as the two powerhouse men that ruled over all could remain on speaking terms, all was good in the city of Fitzroy.

You never attended your father's meetings with Carl Seresin and hoped you'd never have to, but the day you turned eighteen? Everything changed. You had already seen so much, been exposed to things out of this world unholy. The last thing you wanted to do was meet the man who caused your father so much strife, and his son.

Jake though? He was always present, always standing right behind his father because he always knew that someday everything would be his. The day you arrived with your father he was completely shocked to see you in the study, sitting on the lounge all prim and proper like. The girl he’d heard so much about through his father was actually stunning, instantly having a soft spot for you the moment he saw you follow your father into the foyer when he was watching from the top floor of the staircase. You'd only briefly glanced up at him when you first arrived. Pretty white dress adorning your body, hair tucked back, neat and slick.

“Hi.” Jake smiled as he held his hand out for you to shake before you quickly shot him a look of pure evil. “You lost sweetheart? This isn't normally a place where a pretty girl such as yourself would come willingly?”

“Don’t try me.” You were quick to sneer. “I’ll kick your ass.” You knew what you and Jake were destined to be. Sworn rivals, enemies with common ground. There was no need for small talk, no need for niceties.

“As if, a fucking girl dad?” Jake scoffed as the two men were settling into their chairs for the evening, both babysitting a glass of fine whiskey and watching their offspring interact for the first time. Keeping the two of you apart had been a part of their agreement, partly to keep you safeguarded until you were ready to start learning the ins and outs of your father's business. However, you'd already come to know more than enough throughout your childhood. “How the fuck are you meant to be my arch-rival?” Jake pulled at your hair, pulling you straight up from the lounge that you sat perched on quietly, Your father only scoffed, hoping you'd defend yourself against the man who was twelve years your senior.

“Don’t!” You spat as you pulled yourself out of Jake's grip, He was a god damn adult and he was acting like a petulant child with a schoolyard crush. Your mother, prior to her passing, had always told you boys who teased were the ones with the biggest crushes, but this was just physical assault in your books.

“Aw gonna cry to daddy are we?” Jake snickered before he pretended to cry as he whipped fake tears from his eyes just as your fist collided with his nose, sending blood rushing down around his mouth as he stumbled back in shock. Cupping his hand over his nose to catch the blood that poured out fast.

“The fuck was that for!!”

“Don’t try me, Seresin you’ll only regret it” You hissed through gritted teeth as you walked over to stand behind your fathers chair who was smirking with delight that his little girl was a natural fighter, leaving a very much in pain Jake standing in the middle of the study. Completely dumbfounded.

That was Jake Seresin's first encounter with the girl he’d chase after his entire life, his future wife. But what Jake didn’t know is that through the pain of his bloodied nose, your hand was broken and throbbing, but you could take the heat without showing a single sign of pain on your face as you stood tall behind your father–gripping at the back of his chair to push through the pain.

Because if you had learnt one thing about this lifestyle, it was that showing any sign of weakness in a world of men was not an option.

***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-***-

(Six Years Later- Present Day)

Your father would be turning in his grave right now if he knew that this was the first plane, albeit, best plan, you could come up with. The mirror image of yourself that had been staring back at you for the better half of ten minutes looked entirely different to the person you thought you would become. This wasn't the life you wanted for yourself–but it was the only one you knew. Only one you had. Only one you'd ever get.

“Suck it the fuck up.” You scoffed to yourself before you shook off all your second thoughts and existential dread. “No backing down.” Noone was going to give you a shoulder to cry on, so there were no reasons to cry in the first place, no reasons to feel anything. You fumbled fast to pack up the lipstick and pressed powder compact back into your clutch, ruffling your hair in the mirror as you studied the scars that littered your face from a lifetime of crime, dirty bidding and underground societal standards. “Live in clover, Widow, Live in frivolous clover.” Mumbling the words to yourself as you let out a deep sigh, hopefully this would work out in your favour, it would be a good change if it did. If this meeting worked out it would be considered a drastic change from the current trajectory the way things had been going for you as of late. Everything had gone tits up. You just needed one fucking win.

As the soft curls flowed freely over the expanse of your exposed shoulder, you couldn’t help but tremble at the thought of your next move, it was only for a split second, but you still held the door knob of the foyer bathroom for far longer than you should have. Mulling over if this was truly the right thing to be doing. Your father would fucking kill you if he knew exactly who you were running to for guidance and safety the second he was laid to rest. The dirt over his grave had barely lost its moisture, freshly laid before you were reaching out to organise a meeting with the rival Mafia Boss. Jacob ‘The Hangman” Seresin.

This could make or break your entire enterprise. The moment you realised your late father’s “enterprise” had become officially yours overnight, you lost whatever slither of innocence you had left, not that you had much left to lose in the first place. The harsh reality quickly set in that you were now the sole female Capofamiglia in all of Fitzroy. Not only that but you were only in your early fucking twenties. These two factors alone made you venerable, a walking goddamn target if there ever was one. You may as well shoot a beacon into the air for all your fathers enemies to swarm on you like hungry wolves because as you were guided up the stairs by two security guards that looked more like henchmen than respectable security detail, you knew they were all lying in wait for the right moment.

And that moment could have very well have been now, as you walked right into the study that belonged to none other than Jake Seresin.

You needed to act quickly, work smarter, “use your wits' ' as your pops would say. Fitzroy was dangerous territory, crime was a normality, violence occurred on the daily and despite your youth you had been exposed to the worst of the worst, having been your fathers only child, the sole erie to the enterprise he’d build upon after his father left him to carry it on.

You knew proving your worth would be harder than just stepping up to take your father’s place, you needed to show every man in this city of Fitzroy just how much of a threat you could be if crossed, just as dangerous and just as malicious they could be.

As of right now, your men looked weak at the leadership of such a young woman, they were dropping like flies, reaching out to rival mobs to cut deals with and jump ship. As far as you were concerned however, their loyalties lied with your father, not you. you’d spit on their graves quicker than you could blink if given the chance. Looking up from your shoes, you saw Jake sitting at his desk–he hadn’t bothered to look up from the laptop he was looking at. He’d heard the door open, heard his security mention your arrival, but he didn't seem to give a shit. Typical fucking Jake.

Revenge lied deep behind your eyes, over the years you’d become nothing but a cold empty shell of the girl who just wanted love and compassion. Now? You were hopelessly devoted to a world of drugs, sex, money and power.

“By all means, Don't let me interrupt.” You cleared your throat before raising a single brow at Jake as you crossed your arms over themselves, standing in the middle of his overly exuberant study. The dress you wore had been an odd choice for such a meeting, but then again you never got a chance to really dress up these days. It was just a simple black slip, heels to match.

Jake didn't even blink as he reached for the handgun sitting pretty on top of his desk, his emerald eyes still glued to the screen as he scrolled–pulling the hammer back as he aimed it right at you.

“I don't recall asking you to fucking speak.” Jake spat as he heard you move, following in his actions as you reached for the gun strapped to your thigh, pulling the hammer back as you trained it on his chest, a fatal shot.

“Damn, we must have gone shopping at the same gun show Seresin.” You smirked, taking as few steps forward. “I don't believe you’d shoot a lady.” Jake still didn't bother to look your way, the longer it took to draw his attention off whatever he was looking at made you lapse in your own judgement. Perhaps coming here was a bad idea after all, a lesson to be learned. But you only knew of one man who could either help you rise to the top of Fitzroy’s criminal hierarchy or one who would happily watch you roll around with the dogs in the streets. Either way, The kingpin of Fitzroy, Jake ‘The Hangman” Seresin, was your only shot at power.

“No lady here, just a fucking pest.” Jake sneered as he finally turned his head to look at you, lowering his gun as you did, watching carefully as you lowered it to your side, index finger still looking rather trigger happy as it ghosted over the trigger. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jake grinned as he let his back rest against the back of his study chair, hands coming up to cup the back of his head.

“You took some of my men, Hangman, that’s not very nice.” Jake could tell your voice was laced with venom, it damn near echoed out in Jake's enormous study, antique in style, he liked the mob style aesthetic. Jake just chuckled at you, shaking his head in reluctance to believe that's how this whole ordeal had gone.

“I don’t recall taking any men, if anything they ran to me like petulant children when they clearly didn't get their way.” Jake was quick to defend himself as he rose from his seat, his hand resting on the oak of his desk as he leaned over. “The fuck are you doing here Y/n?” Jake had never been good with small talk. “Where's daddy? Why is he sending you to do his dirty work?” Jake had been expecting your father for his monthly meeting any day this past week, it wasn't like him to miss such a scheduled and routine meeting, even since Jake had taken charge. He could vividly remember sitting in on your fathers meetings when you were both just kids. Jake had always been much older than you, but he always had a thing for the way you never took any shit from anyone—including him.

“Dead.” You caught the lump in your throat before it could even be detected by Jake, never faulting your tough exterior for a moment. “I thought you would have known by now, kept the funeral private though, just me.” You hadn’t gone parading your father's death around. The notice you’d sent Jake a week ago still sat unread in his emails. He’d seen your name pop up and barely paid enough thought to it that perhaps the email was of import. Looking at Jake with a spiteful eye—you knew he didn’t give a shit about your situation, your father’s death only meant one thing and one thing only—he was top dog now.

“My condolences.” Jake looked up with pity plastered over his entire face, he did care. To an extent, he knew what it was like to be thrown into the ocean without a life jacket. When he’d lost his father, he thought he was ready to take over his fathers enterprise. It's all he’d ever grown up hearing. But he wasn’t, he leant though. He dealt with his demons until they consumed him whole. “Whatever will you do now? Fitzroy’s newest Capofamiglia?”

“I was hoping you’d share your secrets if you’re interested in a merger?” Fumbling with your dress, you placed your gun back in your garter. The rush of adrenaline had begun to fade as the cocky smirk you wore faded after no longer than five seconds after having just come to the realisation that you were truly standing across the room from none other than the notorious Jake Seresin. The Hangman, how the fuck you weren’t dead by now was beyond you. “Unless you wanna sit back and watch me take over Fitzroy?”

Jake sauntered out from behind his desk, eyeing you off as if what you asked was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard you say. Backing up slowly with your gaze trained on Jake, he stalked you down like prey until your back hit one of the many bookcases that lined his study. You brought your hand up to rest gently on top of your garter belt which once again held the handgun your late father had given you. You never should have lowered your weapon.

Jake's walk was intimidating, his glare nothing but intense as he trapped you between himself and the bookcase now pressing into your back. The dark, navy-blue suit looked far too snug against his bulging body. With a shockingly evil smirk, Jake leaned in, trapping you between his arms as his hot breath made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand upright to attention. His deep, hypnotic voice filling his study.

“So, The Widow wants to know my secrets?” Jake cooed as he squished your cheeks together with his fingers and his thumb, forcing you to look at him. “How I run such a successful enterprise like this?” He paused, pressing a light kiss against your exposed collar bone, trailing his free hand down your torso, his thumb massaging your hip slightly before his hand continued down to aimlessly feel the gun resting against your supple skin. His head shot up to meet your eyes, a devilish grin upon his face as he dipped his hand inside your dress to pull the gun out, revealing it in all its glory, pressing it into your neck as you lifted your jaw high in an attempt to get away. “Fucking look at you, you pathetic pest of a thing.” Jake had been genuinely surprised when his assistance had told him you’d requested a meeting, you had always been his favourite play thing. But the dynamic had now changed, you were his rival? His equal. “You aren’t worth my fucking time you know that right?”

“Still breathing aren't I? So I must be worth something.” You challenged as Jake cocked the hammer back, making you flinch as he held your head still. He could practically hear your heart beating out of your chest as he growled, gritting his teeth, clenching his jaw. But Jake didn't pull the trigger, he simply pushed himself away just to revel in the moment he had you near cowering. How did you ever think you could come into his office, step into his territory and ask him for a merger. What fucking bullshit.

A slight gasp left your lips as you felt hopelessly defeated, watching Jake as he walked away dangerously slow, unloading the gun as he walked, pocketing the bullets before placing the now rendered useless gun on his desk before he dropped his hands back to rest against the oak. Still wearing a shockingly sinister smile.

“Well, there’s three-points you gotta consider to take on this sought of, enterprise. First, you need to pick your crew, they gotta have a range of skills and Do. As. They're. Told.” Jake pushed off his desk, sauntering back to meet you back against the bookcase, trapping you once again as his hand came to cup your chin lightly, looking up into his emerald eyes you couldn’t help but whimper quietly. Now weaponless.

“Second” Jake growled, “Timing, they gotta be where you want them to be at precisely the moment you want them there, they get there too soon? and they’ll stick out like dog’s balls, get there too late and the whole thing's down shitter now isn’t it?” His lips were practically ghosting yours as he leaned down to meet your height.

“Then there’s the all-important third element.” It was the hand that snaked itself around your throat that had you audibly hissing, it made Jakes slacks all the more tighter listening to the small whimpers you let escape as he constricted your airways–wanting to see just how far he could push you before you broke and pleaded mercy. “Someone's gotta be in control.” Jake didn't hate you, nor did he like you, but there was an affinity of some sort there that he couldn't deny.

You'd always been the one who challenged him despite your youth, despite your inability to understand this was a man's world. You'd never make it on your own, Jake knew that, he knew that was the very reason why you were here. The second Jake had realised your father wasn't around–he knew why you’d come to him. He didn't have to ask nor did you have to say it, but he didn't have any intention of making this easy for you.

“Someone’s gotta see the whole enterprise playing out like a general, directing his troops.” Jake let his hand dip from its grasp around your neck, lowering it slowly to rest against your hips, pulling you flush against him as his head still tilted slightly to meet your lips, not fully connecting his mouth with yours but close enough to make you crave his touch. “But pretty girl, the most import thing you need to run an enterprise like this, the thing I have by the fucking bucket load.”

Jake met your gaze momentarily, searching your eyes for the very thing he hoped you’d give him, permission. Whispering one final word against your lips as his hands worked to pull up the silk of your dress to expose your legs, Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin smashed his lips roughly against yours as your arms flew up to wrap around his neck, feverously engulfed in his charm alone, you were screwed, the kingpin of Fitzroy now had you undeniably under his charismatic charm. Like he always had since you’d first met him all those years ago in your father's study. The one you were never allowed in, the one that wasn't supposed to ever be yours. But had ultimately become.

“Confidence.”

**************************************

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itsforreadingonly · 1 year

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: Drums Emporium

Summary: Jake wants to see what you’ve got. Sending you into one of his most notorious pubs to see if you’d come out alive. Only keeping a slight plot point from you in the process.

Warnings: Gang-related themes. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Gun violence. Smut. Hangman Au. Jake Seresin Angst.

Word Count: 3.3k

Author Note: If this shit doesn’t work I swear I’m gonna beat this app up. I've got the read more bug, which is super frustrating Anyway—let’s try this again shall we?. (but I'm still on Tumblr's ass about it, ill get this shit fixed)

Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two |

“So about that merger?” You questioned, zipping up the back of your dress as Jake did up the delicate buttons of his dress shirt, working to cover his enterprise's emblem– tattooed deep into his right pec, the covernate Death Adder, wrapping itself around a bloodied dagger.

“Ah fuck!” There's a certain level of degradation that comes when being bent over the oak of Jake seresin desk. You could think of only two possible answers to the question that was why he liked this specific position. “Auughh, fuck yes!” The first could be Jake Seresin liked his women splayed out on his desk face down ass up purely because he could get deep. He could pull your hair up into a pony and pull your head back to have your moans echoing against the walls. “Jake!!”

“Love your pussy Y/n–” Jake hissed against your spine, bending over to trail soft kisses up your back as he slowed his pace. Dragging out the fact his high was approaching edging himself. Using you as his personal plaything. “Always such a good fuck.” The second reason? Which was probably the correct answer if you had to pick it in a life or death situation would be he simply couldn't stand the sight of your face. “Do me a favour will ya.” Jake groaned as he ran his hand up your sides before settling them against your hips, pulling you back against his crotch harshly as the tip of his cock nuzzles your cervix. “Stop being such a fucking brat and perhaps we’d get along.”

“I couldn't think of anything worse.” With tears in your eyes, you could feel the coil inside you turning and winding up to a point beyond return. It made you feel sick that Jake can make you feel so loved yet so disgusting at the same time. You knew you could do better, you deserved better. But the problem was no one deserved to have to settle for you. “Now keep fucking me, m’close.”

“What about it Y/n?” Jake scoffed at the idea. “You don’t need me or my men to protect you?” Jake raised his head to meet your gaze as he tightened his tie up as far as it would go. “You and I both know you of all people don’t need protecting, you’ve shot more men than I could count on my hands.” You smiled for only a mere second as you loaded the clip now full of bullets and placed the gun Jake had recently confiscated from you back into your garter belt, now perched pretty on his desk you made sure to move your hair around your neck to cover the deep purple marks he had left in his mouths wake. A fever dream if there ever was one. Four minutes ago you had been bent over his desk, taking him as deep as you could possibly take him, now? You were back to wanting to kill each other as you sat in his presence.

“That was before I had an entire enterprise to run Hangman, I can’t afford to be risky anymore, I can’t afford to be careless, this is my world now just as much as it’s yours and what? When the time comes are you really going to put a bullet between my eyes?” You jumped off the spot on Jake's desk that you had been perched upon, saunting over to where he stood tucking his shirt into his dress pants, the sound of your red bottoms clicking against the hardwood floor of Jake's study made his cock twitch. But when you gripped a tight hold around the silk of his tie and pulled him down so you could whisper in his ear? Jake shivered, the realisation suddenly hitting him like a ton of bricks that you weren't just some rival gang leader's daughter anymore. You were the gang leader. His enemy. His rival.

“Because I sure as shit won’t hesitate to take you out if that means I get where I need to be.” Although you and Jake shared undeniable sexual chemistry, it wasn’t enough to overcome the fact that he was the rivalling leader from the north side of Fitzroy. A good fuck was all that would ever come out of the relationship you shared together, a mutual understanding that even two of Fitzroy’s most notorious gang leaders needed to feel some sort of emotion every once and a while. “Nothing but bloodshed would come if we didn’t call a trues.”

Jakes lips turned upright into a devilish smirk, you could almost hear the little cogs in his mind turning with ideas as he pushed himself away from you, grabbing his navy blue suit jacket that had been discarded absentmindedly in your quick heist to rid yourself of any article of clothing that wasn't needed, before placing it over his broad, stupidly muscular shoulders.

“I'll consider it.” He sighed out, making you seeth just a little more. Fuck him and fuck his Cheshire like smile. “If you convince my men.” Jake reached for the gun you had only just placed snuggly back against your thigh, the softness of his fingertips made you shiver. Following the trajectory of which Jake raised the gun, you reached for it as he held it over his head, adorning a grin which could break his face in two. “Without this, I'll consider the merger.”

“Name a time and a place.” You huffed, walking directly towards the doors to leave, you had thought the conversation was over—that Jake would get back to you in a few days perhaps. He’d send someone to speak with you. But Jake's voice echoed through the study as your hand fell softly against the door handle. Making you turn cold as ice.

“Drums, and now.” His voice was far too low and far too serious. You felt your stomach drop, as you let go of the handle, turning back fully engulfed with anger.

“You've gone mad haven't you?!” You hissed as you walked closer, Jake's chest pressing against you as your chest heaved heavily with anxiety. “That’s a god damn suicide mission with a gun! and you wanna send me in unarmed? Fuck you, Seresin!”

Drums emporium was Death Adder property, a real hot spot of all things violent. The underground bar attracted the likes of things from unregistered poker games to private strip dances to bone breaking brawls. Jake knew full well the chances of such a young woman walking in alone and unarmed wouldn’t go well, especially with the news travelling quickly that you were now top dog of Katipo gang.

Jake's hand came to squish your cheeks together, lips puckering slightly as he pulled your face closer to his, an evil look overshadowing his entire face as he stared into your wide and shocked eyes. The same eyes Jake saw in his dreams. The ones that would haunt his nightmares and sooth his wet dreams. The same eyes he dreams off at the altar.

“Remember who you're talking to, pretty girl, I wouldn’t want to see you get hurt before you even get a chance to prove yourself to my men.” Jake's eyes were full of rage, how dare you speak to him that way. He let go of your face as you stumbled back slightly, stunned because you really did forget how cruel he could be. “That’s the deal, take it or leave it, walk out of Drums in one piece and I'll merge with you, any woman who can walk out alive is worth my time, besides the women that keep my men entertained.” Jake chuckled before walking around to sit at his desk, feet kicked up and crossed over as he flung his arms up to rest behind his head. “Come out in a body bag and–well–” He cocked his head not saying what you knew he was implying.

You felt as if the weight of the world was resting on your shoulders, your father never would’ve endured such treatment let alone be put in such a high-risk situation in the first place. You didn’t have much of a choice, taking the deal meant risking your life for a man who wouldn’t blink twice at the thought of you being injured, or worse, it only made it easier for Jake to take total control of Fitzroy. Not taking the deal meant walking out of Jake Seresins study still having a target on your back, despite your past, despite all the men you’ve dealt with, fought, taken care of, you needed protection now and nothing was going to stop you doing whatever it took to get it.

“Fine, on one condition of my own.” You agreed, resting your hands on top of the solid oak desk before leaning over slightly, smirking as you remembered Jake's all-important rule.

Confidence.

“Come with me Hangman, watch me turn your men into nothing but boys.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Not expecting you to accept such a dangerous proposal, Jake was quick to think light on his feet, he knew even without a gun you were a force to be reckoned with.

You were a siren, seducing men for anything you needed before quickly disposing of them. Jake had watched from a fair as the pretty girl from the south side of Fitzroy blossomed into a killer queen you were always meant to be. Never understanding how you of all people were meant to be the person who he would always have to watch his back over.

It was almost a Romeo and Juliet forbidden fruit type story, Jake wanted the one thing he couldn’t have, you. Jake had been searching high and low for a strong, independent woman who could help him overpower Fitzroy, never finding the perfect one and always coming back to you.

He needed you, wanted you, craved you. Although he wished for nothing more than to merge the North and South ends of Fitzroy, he needed to see just how well you could hold your own now that you were in control of an entire Empire, and what better way than to test your abilities than to throw your in with the men who shared the same infamous Death Adder tattoo as he. His men, his loyal mob of tough, dirty rotten men who would do just about anything Jake asked of them.he’d sent a few of his men a heads up, texting them about a visitor that would be causing a fuss at Drums, he’s asked them to rough you up a little—if you came out in a bodybag that wouldn’t be any fun now would it. Jake just needed to see how far you’d go.

Driving through the Northside was a very rare occurrence for you, taking in all that was Fitzroy you didn’t truly know, your mind wandered as you watched the parts of the city you weren't all too familiar with pass by.

“How's Bob?” You questioned softly, not turning to face Jake who was solely focused on the road ahead of him.

“Recovering.” Jake quickly answered with one word. His grip on the steering wheel tightened so much in anger his knuckles nearly turned white. “He’s—recovering.”

Bob Floyd had been Jake Seresin's best friend since forever really. He had a family, a beautiful little girl Molly and a stunning wife Lexi, deciding to leave the dangerous lifestyle behind in favour of a more vanilla lifestyle as a paramedic to keep his young family safe. It didn’t go down well with some of the older men, once a Death Adder, always a Death Adder some would say. They had Bob within an inch of his life before Jake had stepped in, some would speculate that altercation is what got Jake the reputation of being ‘The Hangman’, but you would say he was born that way, born to be a leader, born to be a killer, incapable of love just like yourself, denied of all the things that make you feel compassion and remorse as a child. Just like yourself, Jake was the reflection you would see in the mirror, and you were his.

“That's good to hear.” You mumbled as the car came to a slow stop outside Drums, Jake was quick to kill the lights off and turn off the ignition. “I’ve always liked him better than I liked you—“ That struck a nerve you weren’t expecting to hit as Jake glared at you over his shoulder.

“First things first.” Jake spoke softly as he turned towards you in his seat. “Order a double shot of Gentalmens when you go to the bar.”

“Why a double shot of Gentlemans?” You asked inquisitively before unstrapping the seatbelt, opening the door as you slowly began manoeuvring your way out of the car.

“A strong drink for a strong girl.” Jake just winked. He wasn’t about to tell you shit.

“You know you could just give me my gun?” You fired back before slamming the car door leaning in through the window to gauge Jake's reaction. A smirk evident on his face as a slight chuckle escaped past his soft lips. “Would just prefer that anyway.”

“And let you shoot up the entirety of Drums? No way Y/n I know you far too well.” He spoke through the corner of his mouth before turning the ignition back on, you simply raised an eyebrow in response.

“The deal was you’d come in?”

“The deal was I’d come with.” Jake answered with a stern tone in his voice “Now go before I change my mind and use your own gun on you.” The seriousness in Jake's tone sent shivers down your spine, it didn’t take you long to listen and before you knew exactly what you were doing you were heading off towards the entrance of Drums, leaving Jake to sit and wait in his Porsche outside, hoping for a miracle you would indeed pull off such a brazen act.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Walking down the stairwell into the dimly lit bar the first thing you noticed were the two lingerie-clad girls dancing seductively around the shiny metal poles. Both booths were packed with men drooling over the dancers who looked happy to be receiving so much undivided attention.

“Daddy issues.” You scoffed slightly as you walked further in, heading straight for the man behind the bar. Sitting down on the stool you flirtatiously placed your elbows onto the bench and rested your chin into your hands.

“What can I get you, sugar?” The man with the busted upper lip and a crooked smile asked politely as you took in his features.

“Hmm,” You pretended to mull over your decision, biting your bottom lip. “Gentlemans please, double.” You ordered, noticing the bartender's eyes widened a bit, most likely in shock you ordered such a strong drink– But nevertheless he nodded before turning quickly to grab the almost full bottle.

“What's a pretty thing like you doing in such a naughty place like this?” You couldn’t help but notice his thick beard was starting to grey a bit, he must have been on the older side of things. Playing your cards close to your chest you continued holding your own.

“Can’t a pretty girl like myself be into some naughty stuff?” Grabbing the freshly poured drink and sliding off the stool, turning back quickly to see his jaw almost hitting the ground “On the house right?” You teased before seeing him slightly nod his head yes before you made your way deeper inside the club. Before you made it too far you felt the cold feeling of metal pressing hard into your lower back, stopping you in your tracks, this shit was becoming old far too quickly.

“Only if naughty stuff consists of trespassing, right Y/n?” The deep voice whispered over your shoulder as you turned to face Jake's right-hand man, Javy Machado. “Or should I say raining Capofamiglia of the Katipo” Coyote hissed before you heard the all too familiar sound of the revolver clicking, ready to be fired at any moment.

“This didn’t take long” You thought as you sculled the two shots of liquor before whipping your lips with your forearm. “I’m unarmed Javy, killing a woman is one thing but an unarmed woman just makes you a coward.”

“You’re not a woman in my eyes Y/n just another one of us, fair game” Javys hand came to caress the small of your back as he waked you away from the crowd. “Let’s go somewhere more private, yeah? Maybe you can show me what’s under this beautiful dress?” You only smirked a wild grin as you saw your opening, walking with Javy’s feet nipping at the back of your red bottom, shooting your shot you dug your heel into the top of his shoe, causing a gut churning hiss to be heard through the bar.

“MOTHER FUCK---” Javy shouted as you spun around to grip the gun and shoved him away, working quick to disarm him and arm yourself. Pointing his own gun at him point blank into his chest as a laugh escaped your smug lips, it couldn't have moved past your lips fast enough.

“Oh Coyote, you know better than to mess with me.” You chuckled before pressing the gun into his neck. “Next time you try that shit with me I'll kill you without regret, have some respect.”

“Respect is earnt, and you haven't earnt shit Y/n, you’re just daddy's little girl, running around the ankles of the big boys like a goddamn chihuahua.” It wasn't that Javy and you didn't get along, it was more about territory and pride and all those stupid things you hated the most about this stupid gang rivalry. In another life you thought you and Coyote could have actually been friends, or just acquaintances with mutual beliefs. But that just wasn't the case here.

“I came here to see if you'd be interested in a goddamn merger Coyote, but like fuck would I ever trust you after this.” As you pulled the hammer back on Javys gun, You watched as he flinched, believing for just a second that you'd shoot him without mercy. “I'll just take over Fitzroy on my own and burn all you dickheads in the process.” You spat before turning to the rest of the bar who by now had locked eyes on you, guns drawn but nobody dared to shoot.

You backed up the stairs with a grin on your face, strutting your stuff towards an awaiting Jake who looked stunned to see you. Getting out of the car quickly to jog towards you, something you don’t see a man in a suit do every day.

“Whose fucking gun and how?” Jake asked quickly and rather frantically, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he ushered you back to the car with his hand resting against the supple skin of your collarbone.

“Coyotes, he's lost his touch–you need a better man at your side, Seresin.” You just giggled back before tossing him the gun as you reached the car.

As you opened the car door, Jake's phone dinged in his back pocket, reaching for it he gestured for you to close the door and wait for him, you did just that. You slide your legs inside the car before shutting the door, leaning back against the leather chair, letting out a breath you were sure you had been holding since Jake mentioned the Drums back in his study.

Watching as you closed the door, Jake unlocked his phone to see the text from Javy.

Coyote: “So…. are you going to tell her she ordered an immunity drink or am I?”

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Jake chose to keep his mouth shut about that part. You were a force to be reckoned with but he needed to make sure you were kept safe. He needed you to be his Queen.

Fitzroy wasn't big enough for the two of you anymore and there were only two foreseeable options. Merge the North and South sides or bring down your entire Empire, regardless Jake wanted you safe for another day until he could at least figure out what option is worth the risk.

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

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Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter Three: Darlinghurst Danger

Summary: When you get an unexpected visitor from over the state line, Jake Seresin unintentionally starts a war he isn’t sure he knows how to end and keep you protected at the same time.

Warnings: Mentions of sexy acts. Mentions of drugs, Jake Seresin x F!reader. Villain Bradley Bradshaw. Gun violence, blood, injury sustained from gun violence. Gang related themes.

Word Count: 5.2k

Author Note: I was on a roll with editing this on my break yesterday so here’s chapter three. x Literally obsessed with how this is turning out. Also praying that this works again, another post from the desktop browser.

Masterlist | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three |

Silence. It was an eerie experience. In some circumstances, silence brought tranquillity and peace. It brought with it a sense of calm and the innermost ability to relax amongst the sound of nothing.

In others? It brought with it a storm so chronically destructive that a comeback was rendered near impossible. Ask any survivor of the nineteen seventy four Christmas Day cyclone that completely demolished eighty percent Darwin. In the days and weeks after tropical cyclone Tracy swallowed up Darwin as a whole—the majority of the traumatised population that once made Darwin, well, Darwin—left the city to start anew somewhere else.

When your father died it felt like a tropical cyclone had ripped through you. But in the silence that had been plaguing your mind in the week following, you knew you had to fight to survive. You couldn’t just start anew somewhere else. Not because you didn’t have the means, it was a far more pathetic excuse that kept you tethered to Fitzroy.

You didn’t know how to be anything else.

“So Widow.” Jake's hand came to rest gently on the upper part of your thigh over the silk of the ankle-length dress that he much perfected bunched up on the floor of his office. “What do I get out of this new business merger?” He hadn’t once looked at you since you left Drums Emporium. You sat in the passenger's seat quietly coming down from an adrenaline rush that felt almost like heroin rushing through your veins. Javy Machado had definitely rattled you, even if you fronted a different story to Jake–He’d done his job and done his job well. If that job had been to scare the shit out of you.

You’d thought about what it would mean to combine your business dealings with Jakes. If something wasn't controlled by your father or associated by business trade, it was owned by the Seresins or associated at best. A lot of the smaller family owned businesses around town paid your father for security and safety–hoping that if they gave over a percentage of their weekly profit the katipo would steer clear and more importantly keep the Adders at bay if they ever came slithering over from the North Side.

Contrary to popular belief you weren’t just a pretty face. You had your fathers business wit, reaching down to flick Jake's hand off your thigh as you straightened yourself up a little, you watched as the hand you’d just brushed off your thigh made its way back up to wrap around the steering wheel.

“Twenty percent of all profits made from any one of pops—“ It still didn’t feel right, calling the Katipo owned businesses your own. “I uh—“ You cleared your throat momentarily, correcting yourself. For a brief second Jake had looked at you with condolence filled eyes before he turned his attention back to the road ahead. He did feel for you, he’d been where you were right now, only he’d known all his life he’d step up and take the reins one day, lead an empire. You were kind of just thrown into it, no one expected a woman to take your fathers place. “I mean, twenty percent of all profits made by any of my operations.” You were quick to correct yourself, it was still early days in your new found position and coming to terms with all that was once your fathers was now left to you was going to take some time to fully adjust to.. “And I’ll take twenty percent of anything you and your men make outta Drums or any other club and pub you own on this side of town.” Jake's hand grew progressively tighter around the steering wheel as he shook his head, knuckles turning white with the applied pressure. He knew you were low balling him and he didn't appreciate that one bit.

“Y/n, if you think for a second I’ll settle for something as messily twenty fucking percent of your operations you’ve got another thing coming.” Jake liked you, despite the way you made his blood boil beyond belief. You were young and vibrant and willing to break rules and bring down walls just to make it in this world. He admired your willingness to walk into his office and ask for help—although he’d never say that. Asking for help was harder than anything he’d ever done before. And you chose to come to him, not anyone else. “I want fifty percent and free use of any of your men when need be.” Jake's eyes were darker than normal, seeing nothing but his opportunity to finally be in control of Fitzroy almost in the palm of his hands. Something he’d always dreamed about, gotten off to the thought of. Jake could feel himself becoming greedy, wanting everything, including but not limited to the South Side and well–you.

“Only if I get the same, Seresin.” You sassed back as you played with a single silver bullet you pulled from the gun you’d taken from Javy. Fiddling it between your fingers as you spoke, looking down at the bullet that seems too small to be able to end a life. “Fifty percent of Drums and surroundings pub revenue plus free use of any of your men in exchange for half my operations and all the men you can possibly need.” You smiled as you rattled off your final offer, turning your head to face Jake as he drove you home. Across to the South Side, the side of the city of Fitzroy Jake had no control of, but couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into.

The south of Fitzroy had a nickname. Sin City to be precise. Men and Women from all walks of life would flock there to indulge in their vices, and they rarely left disappointed. Whether it be sex or alcohol you now ruled over all, every drop of alcohol served was owned and run by the Katipo and every woman of the night gave a percentage to you in return for free medical care. And of course, drugs from classic green grass to white china white heroin were available on every street corner, if you knew where to look, and if you knew what doors to knock on. Despite who answered though all those doors were now owned by no other than the Queen of Fitzroy. You.

“Deal.” Jake agreed softly, releasing his tight grip he had on the steering wheel after rolling his neck. “Fifty fifty.” He could agree to that, that was something he could work with, that was worth his time. Not that you were ever not worth his time. “Lets shake on it?” Jake released his hand from the steering wheel all together to reach out to gently thumb at your chin. Turning your head to face him once again as his thumb teased at your lower lip.

“I’d rather just fuck—“ You batted your lashes, knowing your response would annoy Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin enough that he’d have to hold back whatever nasty thoughts he had about you in order to keep the control he knew he had in this little merger. “I'll bend you over my desk this time just so I don't have to look at your smug ass face.” You'd be lying if the laugh that escaped from the depths of Jake's soul didn’t make you giddy. He’d always been a dick, but a dick you could easily get along with if you pushed all the crud of gang law aside. Your Romeo to his Juliet. “But still, I’d rather just fuck.” Jake looked at you for a few seconds as he turned down the secluded street his GPS had told him to take. You'd moved recently–which turned out to be the best thing you could have ever done. Away from everyone, away from the world. Your father had spared no expense.

“Can’t fuck while I’m driving can I?” Jake groaned as he adjusted himself. “And how sure are you that I won’t just fuck you over in this deal huh?” A grin washed over your face as you happily allowed Jake's thumb to slip inside your mouth momentarily, your eyes glued on his mouth as he groaned softly at the feeling of your warm mouth wrapping around his digit.

“Because I’d fuck you over first.” You replied as you leaned in further over the centre console, Jake's thumb still on the cusp of your lower lip. “I need protection from people much bigger than you Seresin, you don’t scare me—“ It was indeed a lie. Jake knew that. He scared the shit out of you, he always had. But there had to have been a side of him that didnt for you to feel like you could reach out to him when you knew you were royally fucked.

Jake scared the shit out of everyone, including himself. But he also knew he was the last of your worries at the moment, Jake Seresin was incapable of hurting you just as much as he was incapable of giving you the life you deserved. The life he knew you wanted. The one he could remember your father talking about in heavy detail during meetings with his own father.

Looking at you, Jake saw a younger version of himself, reckless and willing. He wanted to indulge in his biggest vice, you. But he also knew that doing that would be the biggest mistake you could ever make if you truly wanted out one day.

“We’ll just have to see about that, now won’t we?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Shit, Jake–” When you and Jake arrived at your newly renovated house, you took quick notice of the fact none of the outside lights were on. “You're just teasing at this pace.” Something akin to a whine escaped as you squirmed in the passenger seat. The lights you liked to leave on a timer were off—and judging by the time, two thirty in the goddamn morning, they should have been well and truly on. “Please–” Fighting off thoughts that something could be wrong, very wrong, you tried to keep focused on the way Jake's fingers were making you feel as he slowly circled two digits around your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck–i cant!” It was to no use though. “Somethings not right.” You had a fear of the dark that could be easily forgotten about when you could keep the lights illuminating the garden that surrounded your property. The dark had never been something you struggled with until you shot your first person, ever since then the dark was a place where the lives of those you'd taken could still haunt you.

Through floor to ceiling windows in the cracks of the tapestry like curtains, you saw no lights reflecting on the water flowing steadily under the miniature bridge which separated your humble abode from the rest of the town. Fuck.

A flustered mess, you kicked your feet down from the tan leather car seat you sat on and fixed yourself quickly after Jake's hand had “accidentally” made its way between your legs to tease your cunt while he drove and tried to forget about the fact you were a decade younger.

“What’s wrong?” Jake asked, licking your arousal off his fingers as he drove the car over the bridge and into the gravel carport. Not sure what had startled you.

“Not sure yet, something just doesn’t seem right.” Reaching for Coyote's gun, you reloaded the clip before placing it in its rightful spot, your garter belt. “Fucking hell—“

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Jake's eyebrows raised as he parked the car, shutting off the headlights before reaching over to open the glove box. A small arsenal for handguns ranging in size and power all resting neatly on top of one another. “I haven’t heard anything about Bradshaw and his boys in a while? What if he heard the news about your dad?” Your heart sank—fuck.

“This is the exact reason I needed protection!” You hissed as you held a hair tie in between your teeth before you aggressively threw your hair up into a high ponytail. “It’s been less then a two fucking weeks and bastards are breaking in! Probably trying to knock me off before I get a chance to knock them down a few ranks.” Seething, you placed your heels back on, mumbling incoherent words to yourself although Jake smirked to himself when he caught the tail end of one of your rants. “Fucking Bradley Bradshaw, who names their kid that?”

“I’ll go through the back, keep your wits about yourself kid and don’t fucking do anything I wouldn’t alright?” Jake growled as he unlocked the safety on his own weapon of choice. His Glock 34. “You’re covered alright, you can trust me.” Jake reassured you before placing his gun in the inside pocket of his dress jacket, about to step out of the Porsche. You reached over to grip at his bicep, keeping him from leaving the safety of the car you both sat in.

Jake saw the fear in your eyes, he’d never seen you like this before, suddenly so open and vulnerable. It made you mortal like himself. Jake didn't know what to say when you were looking at him close to tears. This was why you'd come to him, wasn't it? What did you know that he didn't?

“What are you hiding?” Jake asked as softly as he could, not wanting to push you away to a point he couldn't reach you. When Jake's question was met with silence, he leaned in, taking your lips hostage with his own. Moving slowly as he reached out to tilt your chin up. It truly did come as a surprise all things considered. You’d never just kissed Jake Seresin before, not like this anyway. In his car, without having been bent over or used as a real life sex toy. “You can trust me, I've got you.” With his heart on his sleeve, Jake reminded you once more that he did in fact have your back. All it did was leave you confused. Why? Why would Jake kiss you like he did, he got nothing out of it. You had to push your own selfishness aside when the gravity of the situation dawned on you.

“If it’s Bradshaw, or just any of his men in general, I’m fucked Jake—“ You paused for a moment, you really hadn’t sealed any deals yet, only spoken of an agreement which in this town meant nothing, especially in this sort of business. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing Jake, I dont know how to do this, any of this–” You were panicking, freaking out because you were supposed to know what you were doing, you had to expect this kind of thing to happen, its why you went to Jake in the first place. But now that something was playing out in real time and not just as a figment of your imagination in a realm of possibility somewhere far far away, you didn't know what to do.

“Widow–” Jake gripped at your cheeks, squishing your cheeks together between his fingers and thumb. “Pull yourself together, collect your composure and shut the fuck up.”

Despite your existential worry, you nodded slightly before pulling away. You needed Jake to be tough with you–you didn't know how to compute anything else. Exiting the car, you walked with Jake towards the front door, both carrying. Your breathing hitched when you saw the door somewhat busted, broken and open.

“You only ever threaten to kill me, Bradshaw won’t even bother with a goddamn warning.” You weren't in the right attire for this, nor was Jake. It looked as if you were both about to go to a fancy dinner, when in actuality it was something far more morbid.

“That’s because I’m a gentleman, and have a soft spot for women who have over inflated egos.” Jake smirked as he changed his trajectory to head towards the side of the house. “Roosters just a maniac.”

Drawing your gun you took a deep breath in and a deep breath out before you entered your new home that was meant to be your fortress. You ever so graciously manoeuvred your way through the spacious living room, quickly noticing the body of your bodyguard Clyde Lawler laying bloodied on the floor amongst shattered glass and broken furniture.

“Son of a Bitch.” You whispered to yourself through gritted teeth as you crouched down beside the still and bloodied man, holding your fingers to his neck, finding no pulse when you pressed against the cool of his skin. “Fuck Clyde—“ If you werent pissed before you were certainly pissed now, Clyde had worked for your father for as long as you could remember. Barely two weeks with you and he’s dead. That had to have been a bad fucking omen if there ever was one.

“Alright fucker, where are you?” You continued further into your own house towards the kitchen, slowly but surely making sure to point your gun at anything that could have resembled a broad shouldered man.

It was however in the kitchen where you finally saw him standing there, waiting there for your arrival. With your gun quickly flying to aim between his eyes as he sat at the kitchen island smirking, cigarette lit between his fingers, the only thing of light in the house until you flicked the switch. Exposing Braldey Bradshaw for everything he was. A mad man with no remorse.

A man who you knew had played a vital role in your fathers death. You knew he was coming for you next.

“Nice to see you Widow, sorry to hear about dear old daddy.” It wasn't as condolence filled as Jake had said it before, Bradley mentioning your father just left an awfully bad taste in your mouth. “But I trust you’re taking to the title of Queen of Fitzroy quite well?” Bradley spoke with enough conviction in his tone that for a second you actually believed you wore a genuine crown. “Didn’t know he’d hand it down, thought Katipo would all but be forgotten once the king was six feet under.” Bradley flicked his ashes onto the ground before placing the cancer stick between his lips, inhaling the poison you wished would take him there on the stop. “You’re leaking kid, got men jumping ship and running for hiring ground as we speak, don't you?”

“What do you want from me Bradshaw, you're a long way from home?” Darlinghurst, at least an eight hour drive away on a good day. “I’m assuming your boys aren’t here to protect you from bullets I won't hesitate to pepper you with if you don’t get the fuck out of my house in five seconds.....” Bradley Bradshaw, king of Darlinghurst, a city much bigger than Fitzroy and in a whole other state. But as it goes, your fathers death meant Fitzroy was open for the taking, pop Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin off while you're at it and suddenly the city’s open season. A small fish in the grand scheme of things, but you knew Bradley had had his eye on Fitzroy ever since he’d come across your fathers path a few years ago.

You pulled the pin back before aiming your gun a little higher when you came to the realisation Bradley hadnt taken you seriously. Arms extended as far as they would go as you saw Jake's broad body ghosting through the backyard.

“I just came to talk sweetheart ain’t nothing to be afraid of, came to offer you a deal actually.” Bradley chuckled before putting the cigarette out on the kitchen island before he sighed heavily, standing from the stool he’d been parched on, taking a few wide strides your way. With every thud of his boot you flinched ever so slightly.

“Four—“ You spat shakingly. Still counting down the five seconds you’d given as a warning.

“Come work for me and my boys? I’m in need of a pretty little thing like yourself.” You didn’t know much about why people called Bradley Bradshaw, Rooster. It would be a question you’d have to remember to ask Jake later on, because right now you felt like you couldn’t breathe with Bradley standing so close and in your face. “You’ve got balls kid, I’ll give you credit for that, but with that pretty face that doesn’t matter.” His voice was low and gruff as Bradley walked even closer to you— closing whatever possible gap that had been left. “But you and I both know you won’t survive on your own sweetheart, won’t last two weeks amongst the big dogs.” As soon as Bradley had finished threatening you, a wild smirk appeared across his face—a tight arm came around your throat from behind. It had to have been one of Bradshaw's boys waiting patiently in the shadows for the opportune moment to strike. “And yeah, I did bring my boys.'' Bradley thoroughly enjoyed the way your eyes lit up like Christmas trees with shock and horror. “You're a fucking amature Widow, but you arent exactly none-leathal.”

You dropped your gun to the ground as your hands flew up the claw at the dark forearm that worked to choke you, growing tighter with every passing second, constricting your airways as you flailed. Gasping for air.

Bradley chuckled to himself, knowing this was exactly how things were going to go. Picking the gun you’d dropped up slowly from the ground, laughing before he pointed it towards an armed and ready to fire Jake Seresin. Bradley for the life of him hadnt quite put the pieces of the puzzle together, but he world–evenly, if given enough time.

“Drop the girl Bradshaw.” Jake calmly spoke as he held his gun up ready to fire. One hand still in the pocket of his slacks casually. “The fuck are you doing in Fitzroy?”

“Business, thought I’d come check out the market in Fitzroy, seeing as though little miss Widow here’s about to be the top dog, or have you already beat me to it Hangman?” Bradley questioned with a raised brow. “Bets are you have.” he had a cruel smirk, a sinister smile that made you shiver every time you heard it.

“Anything to keep the likes of you out of my city Bradshaw.” Jake spat, Rooster wore three identifiable scars on his face–courtesy of an altercation he once had with Jake. Ever since? Tensions between the pair had been far too high and all it was going to take for an all out war to begin would be one simple trigger. That trigger for Jake could very well be Braldey Bradshaw stepping into his territory just to fuck with him, or for Bradley it could very well be Jake Seresin trying to capitalise on the booming drug market amongst the current youth of today, outsourcing quality product from interstate. Darlinghurst to be specific. It hadnt taken long for Bradley to figure out who’d been buying out all his dealers. “

You couldn’t breathe as Roosters henchman choked you out, so much so your vision had begun to blur. Splattering as you gasped for air, any amount to keep you breathing. The noises akin to whimpers irritated the seemingly emotionless Darlinghurst Danger—Bradley groaned as he held the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, frustrated with the noises escaping you.

“Payback—shut her the fuck up will you?” He ordered Payback, or Reuban Fitch Jake would later bring you up to speed with, covered your mouth with his free hand, one arm now wrapped around your throat tighter than ever—the other over your mouth. “Fuck, finally I can hear myself think!”

“She’s a kid—“ Jake reminded Bradley as he turned to face him once again, Jake never lowered his weapon from the clear shot he had at Bradshaw. All it would take to end this would be one. single. shot. But Jake knew if he shot Bradley Bradshaw he’d start an all out war. “The South Side is a drop in the ocean to you Bradshaw—”

“I’ve always wondered, Seresin, Do the carpets match the drapes with this one or is it nothing but slick city?” Bradley asked, he knew something was up the minute he saw you pull up in the drive with none other than Jake Seresin himself. “I bet she must have put out big time for you to be playing guard dog? And yet here you stand? Calling her a kid?”

“I don’t give a shit what you do to her Bradshaw but if you kill her before I stake my claim on the South Side I’ll blow your fucking brain out.” Your heart stung. Damn, Jake really didn’t give a shit after all, not even a little bit. He was just doing this to make his mark, claim his piece of the south–at least fifty percent of it anyway. “I need her, so unless you wanna have a problem with me I highly suggest you have your guy here drop her.” Jake had meant what he said, he did need you–but not for the reason you currently thought. “Before I shoot you in the fucking neck.”

On the inside Jake was panicking, but on the outside he remained as collected as he always was. Jake was playing with fire, he knew he was walking a tightrope, trying to convince Bradley that doing business with you was useless because you were a none threat to both of them. But that was a lie Bradley could smell a mile away.

“Huh.” Bradley chuckled to himself before deciding he’d had enough of Jake's garage. “So I guess if you don’t give a shit about Widow, you wouldn’t really care if I just—“ Before Jake could register what Bradley was about to do, he was turning to fire a single round through your left shoulder as Reuban dropped your almost unconscious body to the ground. Jake froze like he’d been frozen in time—everything felt like it was playing out in slow motion around him as you hit the ground. No. no it wasn't supposed to go like this.

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” Jake shouted as the image of you falling to the ground in a heap before him blinded him. He fired a hail of bullets into the kitchen as Rooster ducked for cover— making his way through the house towards the front door. Payback knowing Jake would be focused on his boss opted from the same way Jake had gained access, the back door. But he knew it wasn't the last time he'd see him.

Bradley haphazardly looked over his shoulder as he fired back at Jake, an all out gun fight breaking up between the two of them. A war.

“Never took you for one to take orders from a woman Seresin, can’t wait to tell the others swarming around Fitzroy just how pussy whipped you truly are!” It was a threat that meant more than Jake could comprehend at the time. “But then again what’s a King without his Queen?” Bradley fired round around towards Jake who was now crouching behind the table, watching as you laid still on the tiles covered in thick blood. He had a choice, go after Bradshaw right this second and finish a war which had only just started….

Or help you.

“Fuck—” Jake hissed at himself as he gritted his teeth. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” His hand collided against the wall in a fist as he reached for his phone, dialling the only person he knew could help. The slam of the front door brought him out of his slight trace, the sudden ceasefire of guns stilled the house as Jake jutted his head out to take a quick look around. Bradley Bradshaw was gone.

What had Jake just started?

Rushing quickly to your side, Jake's eyes went wide at the amount of blood you had already lost. “Fuck—“ In that moment, Jake came to the realisation he actually cared a hell of a lot more about you than he cared to admit to even himself. Which all things considered was a hell of a lot.

“Jake, I swear if you let me die I’ll fucking kill you.” You groaned, coughing blood as you tried to fight off unconsciousness from the lack of blood. “I’ll—I’ll ki—“

“Hey, I got you.” Jake pushed your hair from your forehead as he crouched beside you. “Just stay awake alright? Can you do that for me, pretty girl?” Jake spoke as softly and as gently as you’d ever heard him, for a second you thought you’d already died. He’d never sounded so caring, so kind. Jake Seresin wasn't a kind man, but for you he'd be just about anything. A friend, a partner, a protector.

Jake gently applied pressure over your shoulder before placing the phone to his ear to listen to the dial tone. Calling the one person Jake knew could help.

“You’re gonna be alright Y/n, keep those beautiful eyes on me yeah? Don’t you go sleeping on me, we both know you're too fucking heavy to carry limp.” Teasing, Jake watched the corner of your bloodied lip turn upright, even if it was just for a split second he knew you were still there. The groan of utter agony you let out as he applied more pressure though broke his heart.

“Jesus Jake it’s 3am?” The husky voice came through the phone, forcing Jake to breathe out a sigh of relief because he knew he wasn't alone. “What could you possibly need right now?”

“Bob I need you man, it’s serious—“ Jake was breathing far too heavy into the phone for Robert Floyd to be remotely comfortable with, sitting up with a hiss in his bed, Bob turned to see how wife was still sleeping soundly beside him. He soon reached out to the bedside table that he’d sat his glasses on, placing them on the bridge of his nose. “Bring anything to fix a bullet wound to the south side, Y/n’s place.”

Bob frowned, taking his phone away from his ear for a second to read the caller ID once more. Yep. This was Jake Seresin calling, so why the fuck was he on the South Side of Fitzroy and why the hell was he with you of all people?

“What the hell? Are you good Jake? Why are you with Widow? What ar-“

“ROBERT! No time, just hurry!” Jake hung up before resting against the wall, sliding you onto his lap so he could keep pressure on your shoulder. “I’ve got you, pretty girl, gonna be alright, gonna be all okay and we’ll fix this together.” Jake, for the first time in his life, felt guilty, he had a clean shot he should have just taken it. Whispering as he stroked your head with the hand not stopping the bleeding.

“S-So much for fu-fuckin protection.” You shuttered before coughing slightly in Jake's warm embrace. Wondering just how much of what he;d said to you was true and what was just bullshit, knowing that Jake could be an utter liar when he needed to be in order to get what he wanted. You'd just fallen for his charm. Shame. On. You.

“Bob’s gonna fix you up darlin—you’ll be alright, can't get out of this that easily, you’ve got an entire Enterprise to run.” You didn’t answer, your shallow breathing almost unnoticeable as Jake leaned over you slightly to see if your eyes were still open, if you were still with him.

You weren’t.

“Widow? Open your fucking eyes!”

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#enterprise // jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter Four: Rat in the Ranks

Summary: There’s a rat in Jake Seresins Ranks and you’re sure of it. After coming to after a home job stitch job done by Bob Floyd—you stumble upon a plot that goes deeper than you know.

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected sex, lewd language. Jake Seresin x Female Reader. Male x Female fighting sequence. Major character death. (Sorry not Sorry)

Word Count: 5.3k

Author Note: I’ll probably Try get another chapter out for Sunday, but please don’t quote me darlings I have a busy week. Also: tumblr still hasn’t fixed that bug with read more on the app—just an FYI

Rain. Without it the world would surely shrivel up like a prune. That’s what his father told him as a child when Jake had complained about not being able to play outside.

Jake hated when it rained, he could hear the gentle sound of rainfall falling outside the slightly ajar window and with every droplet that smacked against the window itself? He was reminded of how much time had passed him by that he’d been sitting in Bob Floyd’s spare bedroom watching you sleep.

Jake wanted you to be able to smell it though —it had been something he remembered you mentioning once when you’d come over with your father for one of their monthly meetings. You’d complained about how muggy it was, that the humidity lingering in the air was messing up your hair. But the smell had been delightful. The smell of rain was something you wished you could bottle up and sell for a pretty penny. It was and always would be one of your favourite things.

The smell of rain.

Your eyelids were heavy as they fluttered open, Jake quickly turned his gaze from the window he’d been staring out of back to you, watching as you came to after what felt like a million years in a deep sleep. He watched reluctantly as you tried rolling over in the white bed linen you found yourself entangled in. A small groan escaped from your parked lips as you frowned, frustrated that you were waking up. You hadn’t noticed Jake Seresin sitting in the corner of the room.

“No–” You grumbled. Twisting as you sighed and tried to find a comfortable position once again. All was right with the world until you felt a sharp radiating pain shoot through your left shoulder as you applied pressure to rest up on your elbows to look around the bedroom you were unfamiliar with. “Ah fuck–what the hell?” You hissed out, cupping your shoulder as you sat up and doubled over. “Fuck—“

Looking down, you were clad in a spaghetti strap nightgown which stopped just above the middle of your thigh, it definitely wasn't something you owned. You were more of a neutral tone, black and white kind of gal. Baby pink wasn’t your style, not that you had anything against the colour in general–it just definitely wasn't yours.

The nightwear was accompanied by a bandage which wrapped around your shoulder and the upper part of your chest, holding what felt like thick padding against a wound. Sitting up you could feel tears threatening to spill over from the pain, but quickly wiped them away, reminding yourself who you were.

“Stop moving around so much you’ll pop your stitches.” Before you could untangle yourself from the mess on sheets a gruff voice was coming from the other side of the room. Jake Seresin had been sitting at the cream coloured armchair in the corner in a small study nook set up nice and neat. Just a pair of grey sweats hanging low on his hips. “Bob does a good job but it’s not bulletproof—“ Jake paused, the corner of his lip twitching at his own joke. “And as it turns out, neither are you Widow.”

His eyes were bloodshot and heavy as Jake slowly stood from the place he’d been perched in for what felt like years. Just watching you sleep, like you were his responsibility to watch over. Your eyes never left Jake's exposed torso as you watched him, almost believing you were dreaming when he came to sit on the edge of the bed beside you.

“You look like ass.” Jake teased as you scoffed at him softly, smacking the palm of your hand into his sternum as he playfully let out a fake groan. “Guess you still pack a punch.”

“You’re here?” You questioned with a frown. “I thought for sure you would have dropped me off somewhere and run for the hills—“ All Jake did in response was kiss your forehead softly.

“And miss listening to you drown on about how I got you shot? Please—I wouldn’t miss that attitude for love nor money, Widow.” Jake Seresin and the act of simple niceties didn’t usually coexist in the same realm of possibility let alone in the same universe, but as he sat with you, just being in your presence, you felt the need to see just how far you could push your luck. “How’s the shoulder feeling?”

“Almost as bad as you’re looking.” You gestured for Jake to lay down beside you. “When’s the last time you slept Capo?” The corner of his mouth curled upwards into a slight grin before letting out a tiny sigh. He couldn’t remember.

“No rest for the wicked kid.” Jake answered back before entangling himself in the sheets behind you, wrapping you in his strong arms as you turned away from him, feeling Jake pull you close and flush to his chest while being careful not to hurt your injured shoulder which Bob had only hours ago stitched up and wrapped.

“Where are we, this isn’t your room? And it certainly isn’t mine.” You asked softly as Jake traced unidentifiable shapes into your lower back. Trailing kisses across parts of your shoulder that weren’t covered in Bob's bandage work.

“Bob’s guest room, Coyote called as we were driving back to mine, said some of Bradshaw's men were waiting ambush style. Told us to get the hell outta dodge before something serious went down.” Jake's voice was low and raspy, his heartbeat steady as he held his girl against his chest. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you like I promised I would.” You only thought for a moment as to why Coyote would be at Jake's house to begin with, why was he there if Jake wasn't home? but as Jake held you tighter than he ever had before, more intimately than ever before—you quickly discarded the thought.

“Don’t apologise, apologies only show weakness and weakness is what gets you killed Hangman.” You slowly turned in Jake's arms, manoeuvring yourself on top of him as you laid between his thighs. Curling your nail around the Death Adder tattoo he wore with such pride. “Besides, if Rooster really wanted me dead he wouldn’t have logged a slug in my shoulder, he would’ve put it somewhere where more damage could be done, it was a warning.” Jake’'s hands coaxed your nighty up your legs as his hands fell softly against your exposed ass cheeks, fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips ever so slightly as you looked into his deep emerald green eyes. “He wants a war? He’ll get one, but he won't be happy with how it ends.”

Jake, although still coming down from the adrenaline that flooded his system at the thought of losing you, still loved the way you held your head high with pride and dignity. You were young and a force to be reckoned with. You were nothing but capable of taking on Bradley Bradshaw, Jake was only there to remind you of that.

“I was really worried you were gone” Jake admitted softly. “For a moment there I really had thought that I’d failed you.” You could have melted on the spot if Jake had been any more teeth rottenly sweet. His finger turned trailing up your back to leave goosebumps all over your skin. “That I’d lost you.”

You couldn’t help but to smirk, chuckling softly as your lips turned upright into a cheeky grin.

“There’s absolutely no way in hell I’d leave you to take over all of Fitzroy, you can’t get rid of me that easy Seresin.” Jake groaned as he lifted you upwards on his body, now straddling his waist you dropped the spaghetti straps off your shoulders one after the other, exposing your tits to a wide-eyed Jake.

“Holy—“ The bandage covered just above your left tit, all was on display above him as the nighty pooled at her stomach. “You’re the most precious thing aren’t you.” Jake didn’t expect you to reply, he was talking aloud to himself. Realising that he’d truly told you how beautiful he thought you were. So intelligent and interesting he found you to be, although he knew a dark side lurked right around the corner. Like Jekyll and Hyde.

“You know” you leaned over, biting your bottom lip before rubbing your nose against Jakes. “We never did seal the deal?” You sucked Jake's bottom lips between yours as Jake’s hands gripped your ass firmly with both hands. “I reckon we do that, right—“ You kissed Jake quickly. “This.” Again, you kissed him, this time longer as you moved your hips slightly to feel the erection straining against the sweats Jake wore. “Second.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Jake confessed through a whisper. He’d never been a praying man, but as he held your bloodied body in his arms in the back of Bob Floyd’s Jeep, Jake secretly told whatever God was listening that he’d trade it all in tomorrow if you lived. If they didn’t take you away from him. If they let you live long enough to maybe get that life you longed for—the simple one you always wanted.

“Who said I don’t want to be hurt?” You said with enough conviction that it made Jake twitch in his sweats before you started to grind your hips over Jake’s growing bulge, his hand coming to squeeze against your right ass cheek earning him a moan from you in response as you worked yourself over him. “Wanna fuck you Jake, slow and deep.” You begged before attaching your lips to his collarbone, sucking round purple marks against the sensitive skin as you trailed down along his chest.

Jake's thumbs dipped into the waistband of his sweats and boxer briefs to pull them down as you lifted yourself momentarily before going right back to business, grinding on top of Jake while marking your territory. Claiming Jake as your own.

“Fuck need to feel you, pretty girl, you know I love feeling your tight little cunt around me.” Jake's hand slapped against your ass as you gripped his cock and teased your entrance with his tip. “I’m only letting you be on top because you’re injured, in any other circumstance you know I’d have you face down ass up just how I like you.” Jake confessed as you sunk down onto his throbbing cock. “Widow—fuckk—“ Taking Jake slowly till he bottomed out, a snug fit as he felt you clench around the bottom of his shaft. “Uh— fuck Y/n!”

“Don’t pity me now Hangman, I’m on top because I’m the Queen of Fitzroy.” You reminded Jake before starting your assault, bouncing up and down as his cock slid easily inside you, dripping arousal around him, making the walls of his length irresistibly slippery. “D-don't even t-try to deny you love the sight of me on top of you.” You were grinding yourself in figure eight motions down on Jake in between bounces, feeling him so deep inside you.

“Fuckk— come er.” Jake groaned, pulled you down so your chest was flat against his, his knees coming to bend upwards as his hips left the bed, thrusting hard into you as harsh gasps left your slacked open mouth as Jake took over completely. “Oh god Y/n, baby you feel so fucking good, such a pretty cunt.”

“Oh god! Ahh, Jake yess! Harder! Don’t f-fuckin stop Uhhh—“ Jakes pace got faster and harder, the sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass cheeks echoed off the walls in between the sounds of your mixedmoans and whimpers. “Jake—“

“What’s my name?” Jake questioned out of breath before slapping his hand hard against the flesh of your supple and sensitive ass. “Come on Widow what’s my fucking name baby.” Jake didn’t slow down as he twisted his hand up into your hair to pull your head back slightly, exposing your neck so he could ravage it. “Say. It.”

“Uh Jake!” You screamed before another slap came down against the already raw mark. Jake showed no mercy as he fucked you rough and needy like. Using your body to get himself off.

“Wrong answer!” He hissed before picking up the speed of his thrust a little faster. Your hand came to wrap around his neck, applying minimal pressure as you could barely focus on anything but wanting to cum as you looked him in the eyes with a mixture of lust and love.

If it had been any other woman roaming planet earth right, Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin would have put a bullet in between their eyes if they had wrapped their hand around his throat the way you did.

But because it was you, Jake allowed it.

“Ahh— Hangman” Whimpering as you grew closer to your orgasm, your felt the coil in your stomach winding to a point beyond return as the feeling of euphoria came over you, one of Jake's thumbs can to quickly slide along your bottom lip, collecting your own spit before going down to run circles against your clit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—“

“That’s right, pretty girl, I’m The Hangman and you're mine, all fucking mine—so show me how the Hangman makes your cum.” Jakes orders sent you hurtling straight towards an orgasm, cumming hard around his cock as he fucked up into your slower than he had been but stil oh so deep, feeling him inside your gut.

“Oh fuck! fuck— Jake I’m cumming ohhhh god YES!”

The feeling of your velvet walls pulsing around his cock was far too much for Jake to handle as he followed you to his own high, hot ropes of cum mixing with your own as Jake spilled his load inside you—falling into a heap on top of him as he fell down against the mattress, his cock throbbing inside you as you both sighed out in relief and revelled in the euphoric silence, enjoying the high together.

“Hop off and lay down on your back, legs spread for me Widow.” Jake ordered before he was helping you off of him. “Wanna enjoy the show.” Jake moved effortlessly down between your legs, kissing your stomach every inch he ventured past, making quick work of throwing your legs up over his shoulders. “Wanna watch you cream for me.” Jake could see your pussy just dripping with the mixture of his and your own cum, slowly leaking out.

“Jake—“

“Fuck you’re incredible, look at this pretty pussy just throbbing for me.” Jake never took his eyes off yours as he licked a long and slow stripe up your dripping pussy—collecting the creamy mixture he’d just filled you with. Tasting himself. “Fucking delectable.”

“Oh God—Jake—“ The way you moaned his name was his new addiction and Jake was a full blown addict. Chasing the next fix of his favourite drug. You.

“All for me hey? Push the rest out beautiful, wanna see how full I made you.” You do as you're told as Jake swipes the pad of his thumb across your sensitive bundle of nerves, pushing the mixture out as you arched off the bed slightly. “Fuck—“ Jake catches a little on his fingertips before pushing it back inside you, curling his fingers a few times against your fucked out velvet walls. “Again.” He whispers before spitting on pussy to create more arousal.

You did what you were told, abiding by Jake’s orders as he watched your drip his cum once more for him, pushing the mixture out one final time.

“Such a pretty girl aren’t you?” He groaned before coming up to press his lips against yours. holding your face between his palms as he laid between your open legs.

“There, consider our deal officially sealed—“ Jake wasn’t sure what it felt like to be in love, but whatever he felt for you surely had to be close to it if not it. He knew as he looked into your eyes there was something there, he could see it—feel it as his heart skipped a single but important beat when he watched a soft smile creep across your beautiful face.

He was fucked, Jake knew it, mixing business with pleasure never ended well but there was no way in hell he was going back now. Leaning in as he took your neck hostage, whispering two worlds into your ear that made every part of you shiver in arousal. Two words that meant far more than either of you probably knew.

“My Queen.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~

With some borrowed jeans of Lexis, a white T-shirt and a pair of boots, you twisted your hair up into a messy bum before making your way into the kitchen after showering with Jake, needing help due to your shoulder not being able to get wet.

“Hey Widow, long time no see?” Bob was sitting at the island bench on his laptop, most likely searching to see if any news had spread from the events of last night. So far, nothing. “How's the South Side treating you? Miss Katipo Capo.” All you did was bush the big eyed bigger hearted tease off your shoulders, walking around to kiss Bob on the cheek until he was blushing and bashful. He was quick to trap the hand you’d placed on his shoulder with his, keeping you still for a moment before he let go.

“Morning Bob.” You beamed at the man clad with round glasses that made him look all kinds of innocent. But an innocent man Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd was not. “Hey I just wanted to say thank you for everything, for the clothes, the emergency surgery, the safe haven.” You came to sit down on the stool next to him. “I know it’s a lot for you to tiptoe on the outskirts when you wanted out, so I just wanted to let you know I really appreciate it.” Bob just looked at you like he had no idea what you were talking about? Did you think that he’d voluntarily raised his hand to help or something? That he welcomed you, The South Side Widow into his humble abode just because he felt like it?

No—if Bob Floyd had a choice you wouldn’t be here, but he didn’t. Jake had made that abundantly clear when he held a gun to his head and told him to get you somewhere safe after Coyotes call. Not in the mood for negotiating. All Bob thought about was his family, so he did what he had to do in order to keep on keeping on.

Bob just closed his laptop slowly as he spun towards you, his knee brushing yours as he leaned in to check if any blood had seeped through his wrap job. Humming in delight and surprise when all he saw were clean and crisp bandages. He’d still need to change the dressing underneath though.

“Not a problem.” Bob lied through a lippy smile. “Really, I honestly thought it was Jake hurt to begin with. I didn't think for a moment you would let something that dumb happen.” Again, you let the comment roll off your shoulders as you watched with curious eyes as Bob picked the silver bullet up from the bench. “I believe this belongs to you, I sanitised it, don't worry.” Bob chucked before placing it in your open outstretched palm. “Nine millimeter, If it had been any lower it would have clipped an artery—so I’d consider yourself lucky or Roosters just a bad aim.”

“This is the one you pulled from my shoulder?”

“The very one.” Bob confirmed as he took notice of the marks that trailed up and down the expanse of your neck, his mind flicking back to the way Jake had reacted to what was supposed to be his rival being shot in the shoulder—what the fuck was going on between the two of you? “Could’ve done a lot more damage too but you should recover without too much of a concern if you stay out of trouble.”

“Trouble? In this town?” You taunted as Bob laughed along with you. The last time you saw Bob was just before his messy exit from the Death Adders, his hair was a little longer these days. Probably due to the fact he wanted to grow it out. Usually the type of guy to keep everything trimmed and tidy. But with so much time spent on bed rest and in and out of hospital, he just didn’t care anymore. It would have been driving Lexi completely mental, but then again—she would have just been counting her lucky stars she still had her husband around.

His eyebrow was still slightly split, it had been split almost to his skull and would leave a nasty scar behind. Bob's right eye socket still looked like it was tinted a little green, probably still fractured underneath. Jake was indeed right when all he said was that Bob was “recovering.” He had purchased a small house just outside Fitzroy in what had always been referred to as ‘No man's land, a tiny stretch of land that regardless of what Gang or part of town you came from it was a safe haven no one could touch, his family was safe and as of right now so were you and Jake.

“Where’s Molly and Lexi?” You asked as you stood to look out the window, thinking about just how much of a coincidence it was that Bradley Bradshaw knew Jake was with you last night, how he knew that last night was the opportune moment to strike. Your mind wandered back to what Jake had said about Coyote, how he knew Roosters men were waiting to ambush Jake back at his own home. Your mind didn’t take long to fill with worry.

Fill with fear that Jake had a rat in his ranks.

“Sent them to Lex’s mothers house, I didn’t want to risk them being hurt even if we’re safe here.” It hurt to hear, but you knew you were a danger to Bob's family. “I just wanted extra peace of mind.” Bob met Lexi when he was only seventeen, a pure at heart golden girl with the world at her doorstep.

Lexi of all people, with her bubbly personality and happy go lucky attitude didn’t deserve to live a life of crime. She chose Bob despite his upbringing, despite his lifestyle but he made it his mission once she took his last name that he would be a better man, and as far as you were concerned he kept that promise.

Somewhere in a trance, you hardly listened to Bob as he spoke about how he would re-dress your wound in a few minutes just as soon as he got a chance to ask Jake exactly what the next move was going to be. Bob didn’t want to be brought back into this too deep but was willing to help as much as he could. He knew if he didn’t Jake would probably flip his world upside down.

“That’s great Bob, hey do you know where Jake's keys are? I left something in the glove box.” You spoke with a blank face as you looked for the car keys, finding them mixed in with Bob’s Jeep keys in the bowl sitting on the bench. “Be back in two secs.” You pressed your lips together as you reached for the keys, pocketing them casually as Bob opened his laptop up again.

You were out the door before Bob even logged back in, hearing the door slam behind you as he went back to his search.

“Where are you—“ Looking around inside the car for Coyote's gun, you knew Jake would have picked it up off the ground after Bradshaw used it to shoot you last night, disposing of it in the drive before making his getaway. “Ah, gotcha—“ Finding it in the backseat you were quick to unload the clip to find it blank.

“Fuck” You mumbled before opening the glove box to find four other loaded guns to choose from, jumping in the driver’s seat you started the car and without hesitation followed your gut instinct.

Something wasn’t right and you could smell a rat a mile away if you ever knew one. Jake wasn't quick enough, running out onto the drive just moments after you had sped off towards Jake’s house on the other side of town, the same house which you had been warned to keep clear from by Coyote the previous night. Your phone began to ring in your back pocket, letting it go to voicemail you knew it was Jake losing his mind. The text dial soon followed, quickly pulling it up out of your pocket as you glanced down at the text.

Hangman: “Get your fucking ass back here with my car!”

Hangman: “I’m not playing games kid get back here now!”

Hangman: “For fuck sake Y/n you are injured!! Don’t forget that!”

You threw your phone down onto the seat beside you, your mind clouded with nothing but the theory Jake had a rat in the ranks. Before you knew it you were pulling up outside Jake’s house, only to see Coyotes Blacked out G-wagon was parked in the empty drive. “Mother Fucker—“

Pulling out a gun from the collection Jake kept in his glove box, you checked the clip, making sure it was fully loaded before shoving it down the back of your jeans before grabbing another to walk in with ready to go. Javy must’ve been there all night, the front door was left unlocked as you made your way into the familiar foyer of Jake's luxury house, all paid for using dirty money earned through years of unregistered blackjack and poker games, drugs and strippers.

As you made your way further into Jake's home, You heard footsteps coming from the upstairs study as you slowly skulked up the staircase, peering into the room you noticed piles of paperwork and reports scattered over the entire study floor. The same study you had just been in with Jake begging him for protection. The bookcase that held all his fathers old literature collection was now empty as the books were thrown everywhere. Discarded in haist.

Jake's study had been ransacked but for what? Your heart raced inside your chest as you heard movement before drawing your gun and hiding behind the wall, Javy Machado soon came into your line of sight as he spoke on the phone pressed to his ear. Holding it between his shoulder and ear as he flipped through files thrown across Jake's desk frantically—looking for something that clearly wasn’t there.

“I'm telling you now Rooster there's nothing here alright, he’s got nothing on the girl or what he’s planning to do.” Javy went silent as he listened to what Bradley had to say before he silently nodded. “She’s smart but hasn’t got the muscle men Jake does—I wouldn’t technically say she’s a threat.”

Before you heard any more of the conversation, you quickly fired one shot into the study above Coyotes head, causing him to duck and drop the phone. “Fuck!”

“I thought I smelt a rat, Javy you bastard!” You hissed before entering the study, pointing the gun as he squirmed along the ground to take cover underneath Jake's desk.

“Thought you would’ve been dead by now Y/n, maybe I should’ve shot you myself when I had the chance!” He spat, popping up from behind the desk as you fired a round his way blindly as Coyote threw a throwing knife into your right thigh before you could even register what had happened.

“Ahh—“ In complete shock you groaned as you pulled the knife out and dropped it to the ground along with your gun. “Fuck!” Cupping your hand over your thigh, you watched the blood seep through your fingers. But you were fine, you were okay, you were alright. Right?

Wrong.

“You’re a deadman when Hangman gets a hold of you.” You stepped towards Javy as he stepped out from behind the old oak desk Jake's father had left him. “Bet you were the piece of shit who tried to choke me out last night huh?” You were the one who lurched forward first, starting the hand to hand fight, no guns, no knives—just bare knuckles and pure stupidity versus strength.

“Wasn’t me, sweetheart.” Javy chuckled as he took your fist in his palm, stopping you from making a connection with his nose as he spun you around—your back flush against his chest. “Back off, before you get hurt.” Javy warned, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if he had to—but there were bigger plans ahead for you. Much bigger.

“Well whoever the fuck it was didn't do a good enough job!” You shouted as you smacked your head back against his nose, spinning around to push him up against the wall, Javy let you though—giving you a little head start as you laid a solid punch to his nose before his hand outstretched going straight for your neck, slamming you down into the desk as you clawed at his hand which was violently constricting your airways. The stitches from the wound Bob had fixed slightly coming apart. “Coyote-“

“If it was me I would’ve shot you right between those pretty eyes Y/n.” Javy jerked your neck into the desk before you kicked your leg up right into his gut, forcing him to stumble backwards as you gasped for air. “You fucking bitch—when will you realise this is bigger than you!” You came off the desk and walked straight over to where Coyote stood doubled over, winded. Your thigh leaking blood into Lexi’s blue jeans with every step you took.

“You’ll have to do better than that Javy!” You spat venom his way, balling your first before smashing your knuckles into his face once again as Coyote swung for yours, hitting your right eye with force.

The pair of you went at it bare-knuckle style for what felt like forever until somehow you knocked him to his knees. Acting quickly to pull the gun from your jeans and pressed it against his neck. Spitting blood out of your mouth as you clicked the safety off.

“I won't hesitate to blow your fuckin brains all over Jake’s study if you don't tell me what the fuck is going on!!” Coyote didn't answer, just closed his eyes and spat in your face.

“I’d rather die than tell you anything, kid.” Javy laughed, smiling at you manically as he showed you his blooded teeth. “You haven’t got the balls baby—“

“Try me.” You fired a warning shot into the roof of Jake's study before placing the gun right into the skin of Coyote's neck just below his jawline. “Now I’ll say it again shall I? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” You shouted at the top of your lungs out of pure frustration and anger.

“Bradshaw.” Your heart dropped. “He wants Fitzroy, South and North, paid me top dollar to go dirty, was already doing his dirty work when you walked into Drums.” Coyote was stumbling over his sentences, getting all the important factors out before You’d heard enough. “You won't kill me, bitch, you don't have the guts!” Javy spat as you cocked your head. Making Coyote rise up to his feet as you walked him over against the wall with the gun still pressed deep into his neck.

“Oh Javy, you have no idea the shit I've done or the stuff I've seen but guess what?” You paused to get closer to his beaten up face, smirking as an evil washed over you. A sinister smile creeping it’s way across your face that only the devil himself could minic. “When you live, live in clover, for when you're dead, you’re dead all over.” You chuckled, kissing his beaten and bloodied cheek before holding the pin back as Javy Machado closed his eyes.

*bang*

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#enterprise // jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin smut

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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Text

Enterprise // Jake Seresin

Chapter Five: Live In Clover

Summary: After you discover Jake has a rat in his ranks, you fall off the side of a cliff when you dive deeper into what exactly is going on. Leading you into a rather dangerous situation.

Warnings: Drug Use. Gun violence. Mentions of death. Jake Seresin x F!reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Author Note: Happy Monday! I know I’ve gone rouge with the posting schedule with this one but I had some time yesterday and thought I’d share it.

“Y/n!?” Jake watched you peeled out of Bob’s gravel driveway and sped off in the direction of his not so humble abode. There was nothing but panic mixed in with the burning sensation of his nerve endings lighting up with rage. Running his hand furiously through his hair, Jake exhaled an extended huff of breath as he ran back inside. “Fucking christ–Bob!?”

Jake felt like he couldn't breathe as he stormed into Bob’s home, rage evident in his eyes as he slammed his hand down on the kitchen bench right beside Robert Floyd. Scaring the ever living Christ out of the man who sat minding his own business in his own home at his own laptop in his own kitchen.

“Where’s Widow going in my car?!” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as Bob turned to face Jake, still sitting on the swivel stool he’d been perched on all morning. He didn’t flinch at his boss's anger now that he’d been startled out of the research he was doing, used to the way Jake could lose his temper quickly.

“Said she left something in the car, why? where’s she going?” Bob wasn’t listening properly, barely in the conversation at all before Jake slammed the laptop shut that was open on the kitchen bench. “Hey, don't touch my stuff in my own home! Be thankful I even let you in the goddamn door!”

“Bob! I asked YOU where SHE went! she’s hurt goddammit!” Bob again didn’t flinch, not one muscle shuttered as he watched Jake's nostrils flare with anger as the vein in his neck began to grow. Bulging with rage. He was sure if Jake didn't cool his temper that the top of his head would pop off.

“Hangman, Widow isn’t some damsel in distress, she's you in a different font, she can hold her own.” Bob caught the way Jake's face softened slightly as Bob spoke sense. “Your sudden lapse in judgement must have something to do with the lack of blood pumping to your dick and not your brain where it should be going.” Bob was growing impatient, he didn't want to be brought back into this crap and yet here he was. Arguing with Jake Seresin in his own kitchen over some girl who suddenly held Jake's heart in the palm of her hand.

“Robert–”

“And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, King–” Bob mocked the brooding blonde who stood before him before reaching for his phone, removing Jake’s hand from his laptop “And don’t break my shit either! I fixed your girl up and if you keep running around with her I’ll be pulling a bullet or six from you too!” Bob liked you, he truly did, for a South Side Spider you were as smart and strong as they came. Bob knew that you had an undeniable mean strike, you ran zero to death row faster than any Gang Leader he’d ever met and you were only just stepping into your new role.

Bob respected that you could fight your own battles, he didn't care all that much how you did it so long as he was kept out of it, but he also knew deep down that you were Jake’s one weakness regardless if Jake would ever admit it himself or not.

“Bob this is NOT the time to be fucking with me! We gotta find her, wherever the fuck she went and when I find her her, she be lucky if I don’t strangle her myself.” Jake exclaimed heavily before reaching for his phone on the windowsill, calling you multiple times, all of them going to voicemail. Texting you in hopes you'd catch on to how angry he was.

To South Side Spidy: “Get your fucking ass back here with my car!”

To South Side Spidy: “For fuck sake Y/n you are injured!! Don’t forget that!”

“Bob get in the Jeep, I’ve got a fuckin feeling she’s going to mine.” Bob could almost hear Jake’s teeth grinding against each other as he huffed, looking down at his phone shaking his head.

“Why do I gotta go?” Jake shot Bob the most deadly look of pure annoyance.

“BECAUSE SHE COULD BE FUCKIN HURT! God if Coyote was right and Bradshaws got the place surrounded she’s walking straight into a trap she won’t walk out of.” Bob was quick to comply, knowing that it was best to go along with Jake when he got like this, although Bob really didn’t want to be brought back into this life, he knew Jake needed him more than ever right now, he was spiralling quickly and all because of you.

“Shes gonna be the death of you man–fucking look at you.” Bob sighed, shaking his head in defeat. “As much as you fucking suck Jake you’re smarter than this.” Bob questioned Jake's actions once more as he stood from his place at the kitchen bench, grabbing his laptop with a sigh. “I hope you know what you're doing man because she's going to stab you in the back the second she gets a chance to.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

You watched on with no emotion evadent, no expression present, as Coyote's lifeless body fell to the ground at your feet, watching as the blood ran out of the back of his head which had been entirely blown out. You stumbled back, panting heavily after exerting so much energy, trying to wrap your head around the entire situation you now found herself in.

“What the fuck did I just do?” Looking around there were files scattered everywhere. It looked like there wasn't an inch of Jake's study that hadnt been touched, everything had been combed through with a fine tooth comb. “What were you up to Javy–” You mumbled to yourself as you spotted the phone which Coyote had been talking to Rooster on. Upon further inspection, you noticed it was still unlocked, still on call with a private number.

“Bradshaw–” You spoke into the phone as you held it up to your ear. “When I find you, I’m gonna fuckin kill you.” It wasn't an empty threat, but a promise. “Do you hear me?”

“Looking forward to the date darlin–” You hung up before anything else not wanting to hear his voice at a time like this, curiosity did however, kill the cat when you opened the messages app down in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen, gravitating towards one name. Adder Boy.

To Adder Boy: “So…. are you going to tell her she ordered an immunity drink or am I?”

“No–” Your heart dropped into the pit in your stomach, was Jake in on this the entire time? Did he set this up so Coyote could do the dirty work Jake couldn’t bring himself to do? Did he send Bradsahw straight to your house? “No no fuck–”

Your mind ran wild as you felt your skin flush with immense heat, your eyes watered and your bottom lip quiver. You were breaking down, allowing yourself to feel a moment of utter betrayal as you stood in the middle of Jake’s trashed study.

“Oh god–” Looking around, you had no idea what to do next or where to go. You weren't safe anywhere. Not here with or without Jake, no at your own home, your own men were jumping ship left and right because they knew you were sinking. “Oh god–” Your thigh was throbbing from the stab wound and with every staggered step you took? The more blood trickled out into the now ruined denim. Placing Coyote's phone on the empty bookcase you took a moment to lean up against.

Tears began streaming out of your eyes and down your bloodied cheeks, your right eye significantly larger from Javy’s fist. Your busted bottom lip quivering faster as gentle sobs turned into painful cries.

“FFUUCK!” You shouted as loud as you could before turning around to push everything which cluttered Jake’s desk off the side before limping out of the study, letting yourself succumb to the sorrow and utter anguish you felt from being betrayed.

How the hell did you not see this coming.

As you slid down the wall just outside the study. Your hand came to cover your mouth as you cried a little louder, losing all control over your emotions for the second time in your life. The first when your father died right before your eyes not three weeks prior.

You unbuttoned the jeans you wore and carefully slid them down your legs, revealing the damage that had been done by the blade which sliced your leg open. You covenant Katipo Spider tattoo, the mark of your enterprise slashed straight through as if Coyote knew just where to aim. The black spider with the distinctive red marking now completely cut in two. A symbol of the fallen if you had ever seen one.

“Oh, God!” You couldn't stop yourself from crying as you removed your shirt, tearing it apart to make a makeshift bandage before wrapping it tightly around your thigh, covering the degraded tattoo. You sat slumped against the wall almost entirely naked in the hall, bloodied and beaten. Catching yourself before you fell any further down the whole of despair you were creating, you kicked your boots off and removed the jeans from your legs entirely, using the wall to help you push yourself off the floor and find your gun.

As you skulked back through Jake’s study in your bra and panties like you had done multiple times before, this time you saw nothing but red, nothing but revenge as you felt your heart beating rapidly out of your chest. Bob might’ve been right when he said your shoulder would recover without much of a problem but with torn stitches, you weren't so sure anymore. The once white bandage was now stained a deep red.

“Fuck this.” You mumbled before limping around to open Jake’s top draw, picking up the baggie of what you could only assume was cocaine and the tiny spoon next to it. At this point, you weren't even concerned if it was cut with impurities unknown. Within the space of forty eight hours, You’d been set up, shot, fucked, stabbed and beaten half to death so if a little blow was what was going to take you out in the end then so be it. Sniffing the white powdery substance from the spoon through your nose, you tossed your head back as you felt your blood run throughout your body.

“When you live, live in clover for when you’re dead, you’re dead all over.” You mumbled before turning to Coyote's lifeless body. “Ain’t that right Javy?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

If someone had asked you how you managed to get to the bottom of the staircase, you wouldn’t have been able to give them a clear and definitive answer, all you knew is that your mind was running wild with the theory you had managed to come to a collusion to all on your own with the information you had head. Jake ‘The Hangman’ Seresin had set you up and Jake Seresin was unknowingly a dead man walking. Leaning back against the staircase you sat at the very bottom, gun loaded and drawn waiting for the broad-shouldered man to walk through his own front door straight into a hail of bullets. You were pissed off, high, heartbroken and riddled with betrayal, and there was nothing anyone could say or do to ease that pain.

“I told you she’d be fucking here!” Jake spat as he pulled up in the driveway. “The one place we were told not to go–she goes!!” Bob just listened, he wasn't in the mood to argue. Following Jake up to the front door. Trailing his feet in the gravel reluctantly. “Just proved that she isnt as smart as she thinks she is–doesn’t use her fuckin head Bob.” Jake groaned from the other side of the front door as he pulled it open. “For all we know she’s dead in the fu….”

*Bang* *Bang* *Bang*

“Holy FUCK!” Jake shouted before slamming the door shut, retreating back outside diving on top of Bob who followed right behind him. “Who the fuck? Y/N? is that you?” He shouted waiting for an answer before he heard the sound of manic female laughter.

“You sound shocked Seresin? Weren’t expecting me to be alive were you?” You called from the other side of the door. Jake looked at Bob who was squirming underneath him.

“Get off me!” Bob groaned, hitting Jake’s chest. “Get the fuck off me man!”

“Y/n what are you talking about?” Jake huffed getting up off of Bob and bringing himself back to his feet. “Let me in, what’s going on?” He tried convincing you, but you were high on something otherworldly.

“Uh Uh, already let you in once Jake and that got me shot, couldn’t do it yourself could you?” You sobbed before slowly opening the door, gun drawn high revealing yourself to a very shocked Jake, anger quickly taking over as he studied your beautiful body, now beaten up and bloodied. The fact you were in your underwear flying over his head due to more important factors, like how much blood you looked like you’d lost due to whatever wound was covered by the soaked ripped shirt.

“What the fuck happened to you pretty girl?” Jake's voice was soft as Bob tried pulling him back slightly, knowing the look in someone’s eyes when they aren’t themselves.

“Jake, she's high.” Bob quietly whispered in his ear over his shoulder. “Just look at her eyes.” Bob wasn't wrong, he knew the signs and what to look for, it was his job after all. Jake did as he was told and really paid attention to your eyes, noticing how you couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds. He noticed just how badly beaten you were, from your swollen eye, to your eyebrow and beautiful lip split, your nose bloodied and your neck bruised from something. “She's either taken something or been giving something–”

“I am NOT your pretty girl!” You hissed before letting another sob leave your mouth. “You should see the other guy! Couldn’t bring yourself to do it so you got Coyote to huh? Well, guess what? Should’ve picked a better fighter, Jake, because he’s smeared across your fuckin study as we speak!” Jake couldn’t figure out what was happening, what you were saying. To you it all sounded so clear, so easily put together, the bigger picture finally being revealed to you after moving a few puzzle pieces around.

“Y/n, drop the gun yeah? I’m not here to hurt you? Let’s just talk, alright? I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“Fuck you you piece of North Side shit–”

“Y/n you’re bleeding pretty bad maybe you should come back to Bob’s and he’ll fix you up again?”

“You know Jake, personally I would’ve chosen Southern Comfort for an immunity drink but I guess you and I are just two different people, now aren’t we?” You stumbled a little before your tears began to overflow your eyes once again. This was a side to you Jake was unfamiliar with, he had never seen you show sadness to this extent before, let yourself be so vulnerable. Your words felt like knives stabbing through his chest. You knew about the drink, how he fixed your chance to prove yourself, You must’ve thought Jake didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, You couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Y/n give me the FUCKIN gun! Before you do something else stupid!” Jake was growing tired of you very quickly, he knew if you didn’t get the help you needed soon you’d drop dead from blood loss or possibly an overdose–especially if you took the shit Mav left him last week, coke riddled with fillers worse than any drug. Matt was one Jake's closest men, trusted like a brother he could count on him for just about anything… except for clean cocaine.

“You know what Jake? Fine!” You fiddled with the gun in your possession before unloading the clip, throwing it across the entryway. “Fuckin do this shit the same way I did with Javy, I’m not fuckin scared of you!” You cried before Jake raised his eyebrow, gesturing for Bob to go check on Coyote upstairs while he dealt with you.

“You damn well should be Y/n cause judging by the state you're in you're not going to last very long against me.” Jake was dead serious as he took strides towards you, he had no intention of fighting you in your current state but needed to get close enough to be able to get you in a hold. “Let’s go, pretty girl, show me what you got” He held his hands up to cover his face in fists “Come to daddy.”

You swung straight for Jake’s nose but he was too quick and wrapped both his hands around your wrist, twisting you around and locking his arm around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest as you clawed at his forearm.

“Y/n I’m not going to fight you, just relax please you look like you’ve been through hell.” You kicked your foot straight back into Jake's kneecap, hyperextending it as he let go of you, your fist went straight for his nose as you turned on your heels, the same nose you broke when you first met Jake. Sending Jake stumbling you swung again for his right cheek but Jake dodged just before, ducking under before throwing you over his shoulder.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!, FUCK! Y/n I swear if you weren’t bleeding and drugged fucked outta your mind I’d beat you half to death for this shit!” He spat as he carried you to the car. Too much blood rushing to your head at once made you feel weaker than ever. Jake flung you into the back of Bob’s Jeep and quickly locked the doors from the outside so you couldn’t get out, too tired anyway, you passed out soon after your head hit the seat.

“Fuckin chill for a moment!” While Jake rubbed his bloodied nose Bob ran out shaking his head.

“She's right Hangman, he’s gone but your study doesn’t look too good eit.. again? Really?” Bob couldn’t help but remember the last time you broke Jake’s nose.

“NOT THE FUCKIN TIME Bob!” He hissed as he spat blood onto the ground “Just get her back to yours, I’ll stay here and try fuckin find out what’s happened.” If you looked carefully you could see steam coming from Jake’s ears.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to take care of her by myself Jake, she’s in a really bad way, I don’t even know if she’ll..”

“She’ll make it Bob, don’t even think that way, Widows a stubborn bitch but I’ve never been more sure of something in my life then I am right now, she’ll make it, just take her to Mickey’s, he’ll know what to do.” Jake interrupted before he slowly paced back and forth with his head tilted back, his other hand resting on his waist.

Bob nodded before hopping into the Jeep, a passed out you laying across the backseat. Your hair was covered in blood and your semi-naked body was completely littered with bruises. Bob was nervous, an ex-Adder in Katipo territory was sketchy but hopefully Mickey, your trusted medical expert who dealt with all of your ladies of the night would see the desperation of the situation.

As Bob drove away Jake stood in the middle of the driveway wondering what was going on around him. What had gotten under your skin in such a way and who the fuck was responsible for bringing the strongest women in Fitzroy to her knees, not aware that he was, in fact, the real reason for your breakdown.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

As Jake manoeuvred his way over all the scattered files and books on the floor in his trashed study he was quick to notice the bloodied heap lying adjacent from his desk. Walking hesitantly towards it Jake noticed it was indeed, Javy Machado. Checking his pulse Jake sighed before stepping over the dead man's body mumbling to himself as he looked around for anything that would tell him what happened here.

“Oh, Coyote, what did you get yourself into hey? Help me out here.” Jake noticed the unfamiliar phone sitting on the bookshelf. “huh?” He huffed, picking to phone up and trying Coyote’s password “Adder”

“Bingo” Jake smirked as he scrolled through the last app opened, his messages with himself, seeing the message that Coyote had sent him after you walked out of Drums. “Fucking hell.” He sighed as he realised how you must have found out about the drink. He exited the chat before noticing one name he never thought he’d see in his own man's phone. “Bradshaw.” Jake scrolled through countless messages between the men and saw nothing but red.

Rooster: “I Need info Javy, remember what’s on the table.”

Rooster: “You need the house clear, get them out of there so you have a chance to look through everything and anything you can on either of them. I can't take em down by myself if they run together.”

Jake couldn’t believe his own eyes, his own men were against him. Coyote was a rat and he didn’t even smell it. Enraged, Jake's hand went flying into the plastered wall behind him.

“MOTHERFUCKER!!” He screamed, unable to control his anger any longer “MY OWN FUCKING GANG, against my EMPIRE! God fucking dammit Coyote you got of lightly, I would’ve tortured you relentlessly!” He spat aggressively as if Javy’s dead body would reply.

Jake grabbed as much as he could fit in his car, from clothes to weapons to important documents before he made his way over to the southside after Bob, hoping Mickey and Bob could help you, his Queen, because despite your ability to boil Jake’s blood like no other person could, he needed his girl more than ever, and despite how much you resented Jake right now?

You needed him.

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Mickey’s house was located in one of the nicer suburbs of the south, a quiet three-bedroom home, he was one of the more fortunate. You took care of the people who had your back and Mickey, the big brother he was, was always there for you. Driving through the South Side of Fitzroy had Bob on the edge of his seat, feeling anxious, he reached under his seat for the gun he carried for desperate situations. If he ever needed to use it to protect himself or his family, he wouldn't hesitate.

Fumbling around he found nothing, shaking his head before slamming both his hands down onto the steering wheel of his Jeep with frustration. “Shit!” Bob remembered quickly that he had given his beloved wife, Lexi, the gun from his Jeep before sending her off to her mothers with his baby girl Molly.

“Just in case bub, just keep it with you yeah?” A double-edged sword, he found comfort in knowing his family was safe yet was left without a weapon as he drove through the south with its most prized possession in the back of his car. You.

Arriving without incident at Mickey’s house, Bob couldn’t have run any faster to the front door, banging furiously on the front door.

“Mickey!!” Open up, man!” Bob shouted through the wooden door hoping Mickey was home. “Fanboy!! Open the fucking door! It's Widow!”

Mickey Garcia had been sleeping the day away after having been out on the town. His biggest vice was one of the dancers at his favourite strip club on the strip downtown. Groggy and yawning, Mickey opened his front door as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Confusion taking over as he saw Robert Floyd standing on his front porch out of breath and panicked as ever. He was a long way from no man's land.

“Floyd?” Mickey questioned as he frowned. “The fucks going on? What are you doing here–?”

“Y/n, she's in the car.” Bob tried to get out as he felt himself out of breath. “She took something, it's bad man, you gotta help me.”

“Where?” It was all Mickey had to say before he felt his feet following Bob back to the jeep parked haphazardly in his driveway.

“The backseat, she’s fucked up bad Mick, you of all people know I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t desperate.” Mickey knew Bob was right, rushing towards the Jeep Mickey saw you laying on your side in nothing but her underwear. Beaten, bloodied and unconscious. Barely breathing.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED BOB!!?”” Mickey shouted out before he was nearly ripping the door of its hinges to check your pulse, faint but still there he was beyond that of mortified seeing the girl he watched grow up to become a version of yourself he knew you never wanted to be. It had been three fucking weeks. Now look at you, covered in your own blood and looking nothing like your regular well groomed presentable self. Helping Mickey pulled your limp body out of the backseat Bob tried explaining all he knew.

“I couldn’t tell you, Jake’s still at his house trying to figure that out, all I know is that Javy Machado is dead and Widow’s taken something Mick, I don’t know for sure but the way she was acting makes me feel like it was blow, dirty to, not the shit you’d get here.” Carrying you under his arms as Mickey wrapped yours legs around his waist.

“What's she doing with Hangman?” Mickey hadn’t heard from you in a few days, he already thought that was suspect but now he just couldn't compute what he was hearing, what was happening. “And what the hell are you doing back in this shit man I thought you got out?”

“Was I ever really out?” Bob huffed, sick of that stupid fucking question. Micky just sighed, both men working in tandem to carry your near lifeless body into Mickey's home.

“Fuck me, Floyd, what have we got ourselves into now?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

The only thing you couldn’t figure out was what hurt more. The feeling of Mickey and Bob working their rough yet gentle hands over your wounds, fixing you to the best they could or the fact you could hear everything Jake was saying, every word spoken between the trio. You could hear everything clear as day, but despite your desperate attempts to open your mouth and speak, You just couldn’t. You could feel every stitch, every sting of the needle, every throb of every bruise, your body now naked as you laid limp and semi-conscious.

“It's mangled, she won’t be able to walk without help for I don’t know how long and who shot her? That shits older than this?” Mickey pointed to the bullet wound in your shoulder. “It's got old stitch work in it from I guess cookie cutter Cathy over here?” Mickey teased, referring to Bob who was heavily focused on re-stitching your shoulder.

“Please don’t mess around while you're jabbing a needle into me Fanboy.” You tried to speak as your eyes rapidly fluttered behind your eyelids, just begging for your mouth to open.

“Okay one fuck you, my work is clean and two, I’d much rather be a straight sailing Sally.” Bob remarked as he worked on your shoulder as he laughed at Mickey’s comment. Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia had watched Jake and Y/n interact when you were younger and was always aware that someday when you would run the Katipo, Jake would play a contributing factor one way or another. He just didn't think it would be so soon.

Although Mickey was Katipo through and through, he had nothing personal against Jake nor Bob, a lucky man just like Bob who was able to procure a small humble home on the very edge of the South Side right at the very beginning of no man’s land, Mickey’s door was always open to anyone who needed a safe haven, including the Capo of the South's rival mob, Jake Seresin.

“Bradley Bradshaw.” Jake sighed before tilting his head back again as he sat down in the world’s most uncomfortable chair in the corner of the room, his nose starting to gush blood once again as Mickey threw him a cloth to soak up the thick substance.

“Are you going to tell him you ordered him too? Or the fact you watched him fire a slug into my left shoulder when you could’ve shot him first!” Again, nothing came out. You were just lying there, screaming out for someone to hear you.

“Fuck this is an all out war isn’t it? how many men have you got for sure that aren't dirty?” Mickey asked as he licked his lips, focusing on the work he was doing trying to stitch your thigh the best he could.

“Mickey–you have no idea how far into a war we’re already in.”

“Well Bob doesn’t want in, which I understand, Lexi is probably going crazy wondering where the fuck he is right now.” Bob only nodded slightly as he finished bandaging your left shoulder for the second time in three days. “So minus him, Harvard and Fritz, I don’t trust the rest of the guys, if Javy was dirty any of them could be.” Jake’s voice was muffled slightly as he spoke through his mouth, unable to breathe through his nose. It distorted his voice a little which only made Mickey laugh.

“I don’t want you or any of your fucking men near me Jake, and stop talking for fuck sake your nose makes you sound like Kermit the fucking frog.”

“You sound like Kermit the frog, she really got you good, didn’t see?” Mickey chuckled to himself as he worked. “Why’d she take a swing at you anyway?” Mickey asked before stitching another stitch in your thigh.

“Tried protecting her the other night when I sent her into Drums, I instantly regretted the idea when she actually agreed to it, should’ve known the suborn bitch wouldn’t back down so I asked her to order a drink my guys know not to bring any harm to the people who ordered it, regardless who they are or who they run with.”

“God you’re so deep in your own lies you probably can't even admit it to yourself that you really are just trying to fucking screw me over, had to make it look like you cared though in front of Bob right?”

“You’re a fucking idiot if I ever knew one Seresin, how are you ganna fix this?” Mickey shook his head.

“I was hoping you could help Fanyboy, you know her better than anyone.” Jake was right, Mickey did know you better than anyone, so the fact that one little drink set you off this much couldn’t possibly be the entire reason.

“To be honest Jake I think there’s more to the story then you think, but I have no idea when you’ll find that out because we’ll be lucky if Widow wakes up any time soon.”

“You're damn fucking right there’s more two the story Mickey, HES WORKING WITH ROOSTER!” You were in a full blown existential crisis within yourself, losing a battle you were barely fighting anymore as you gave up trying to communicate. Your body was in a tremendous amount of pain, everywhere hurt with a radiating feeling of numbness and throbbing intensity, but nothing hurt more than the feeling of being betrayed by the man who you couldn’t help but be in love with.

You had never admitted it to yourself before, let alone Jake, but you were aching from the feeling that the only man you had ever loved had disregarded you so easily, so effortlessly, so undeniably perfect. People argue that the world will end if fire, and some say ice, but from what you had tasted of desire you held with those who favour fire.

But if you had to perish twice, you thought you knew enough of hate to say that those who favour ice are also great,

and would suffice.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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