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seresimp · 6 months

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'Till Death Do Us Part

Summary: Jake and his wife are on their first deployment. Their mission is a success, but their way back is in peril. With a heavily damaged plane, their time is running out.

Warnings: bad summary, HUGE medical and military inaccuracies (I apologise for these), graphic injury descriptions, death, sad Jake, maybe confusing writing, possibly typeos, many italics.... I think that's it

A/N: So, since it is still Halloween at least for a bit, I thought I would post this gorey story. If all goes well, it will be a mini series. I hope you will like it. Thank you, @missathlete31 for all the encouragement and support!

Enjoy!

“Hangman! Eject!” When he didn’t react but kept on trying to save the unsalvageable plane and keep them in the air, she dropped the formalities, “Jake, Honey, you can’t save it, we must eject.”

He groaned, but knew his wife was right, “Get the lever, Sweets.”

He tried to gain as much altitude as the leaking, shot plane allowed him. Once he was certain they reached the limit, he let go of the joystick and grabbed his lever.

“Ready?” He asked her.

“Ready.” She assured.

“We’ll do it together. On the count of three.”

“Copy that.”

Jake took a deep breath before counting, “One. Two. Three! Eject, eject, eject!”

The catapult shot him out of the opened cockpit, he heard the wind howling, such a familiar sound…

“I can’t! It’s stuck!”

It wasn’t just the wind, that was his wife screaming.

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening!

“Sweets, try again!” He screamed, hoping to all things that she could hear him.

“It won’t budge!” She gritted out, no doubt pulling with all her might.

Jake looked down, seeing the plane plummeting at a worrying speed.

“Try again!” That was all he could say – and he hated it.

“I can’t, it’s-… I love you, Jake.” The calmness in her voice as she uttered the last four words caused icy chills to run down his spine and sent him into high alarm.

“Sweets, listen, try again! Put everything into it! Come on!”

He didn’t hear a reply.

The moments passed agonisingly slowly. Jake wanted to scream, to punch the air, to swap places with his wife, but he couldn’t do anything. His body floated in a state of complete numbness.

And then he saw it. Just before the plane could touch and tumble through the branches of the highest trees, a parachute shot out into the sky.

Jake let out a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding. Tears surged to his eyes, and his hammering heart let up its wild race a bit.

She is okay, she is fine, she is safe, was the mantra he kept repeating in his mind as he descended.

A huge bang. Fire everywhere. Jake closed his eyes, trying to protect them from the blinding light of the explosion. The plane reached its final resting place, scorching and knocking down the trees in its wake, leaving a deep glen in the snow and earth beneath the thick white layer.

Frantically, he scanned the air for his wife’s parachute.

It must be here, she couldn’t have-

His gaze just caught her, witnessing how she crushed through the foliage, still drifting towards the ruined forest floor left by their plane.

His throat went dry. His heart resumed its crazy pace. He wanted to land quickly, run, make sure she was alright. But his parachute did its job wonderfully, and Jake’s descent kept on being gradual.

Come on, come on, come on, he chanted all the way down.

It felt like ages passed – a whole lifetime and more – by the time he landed. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he ran, parachute sliding behind him, leaving a long trail in the snow, before he reached up and unclipped the hindrance from his body, not slowing down for even a second.

The trees cleared as he arrived, breathless, at the newly made clearing. Jake stopped for only a moment, gaze frantically scanning the area for any signs of his wife.

His heart – racing madly as it were – shuttered when he spotted the crumpled figure lying motionless, her parachute out of sight.

Jake could not recall how he got there; all he knew was that he threw his helmet to the ground and he slammed his knees as he knelt beside his wife’s body.

He turned her over with shaking hands, ears ringing until he got a good look at her face.

Her eyes stared into nothing, half-lidded, mouth agape with blood steadily oozing out from between her plush lips. His gaze travelled up to her forehead, seeing blood trail down there too, coating the place he always laid his kisses. Her helmet was broken, part of it missing, granting a view to her bloodied, sweaty hair that stuck to her skull.

He undid the clasp with one trembling hand while reaching beneath her neck. The rest of the helmet slid off her head as he pulled her up into his arms, so her back rested on his thighs and her head was cradled in the crook of his elbow, his other arm wrapping around her, keeping her close, but gently enough so that he wouldn’t hurt her further, all thoughts of proper first aid procedures leaving him as the need to hold her overpowered his every sense. Her still warm, but rapidly cooling blood seeped into his flight suit, drenching the material, but Jake didn’t even notice, too focused on taking in the rest of his wife’s injuries.

The right side of her ribs was awkwardly caved in. A dark patch of blood emphasised the hollow, making it seem like a hole. Jake averted his eyes – it felt like he would fall into the hole if he stared any longer, darting his eyes down his wife’s body. Her legs lay in an unnatural angle, no doubt breaking on impact.

It can heal, it will be okay, Jake thought desperately as he commanded his gaze to return to his wife’s face. Bruises were blossoming and blooming on her cheeks and temples, a few scratches connecting the ones too far away from each other so they could touch like the rest of them did.

“Hold on, Sweets, hold on,” Jake whispered to her, gently caressing her cheek, whipping some of the blood and dirt away without aggravating her bruises, “Everything’s goin’ to be fine, you’ll see, just hold on. Hold on…”

Tears streamed down his face as he held her frighteningly still body closer to his, trying to share his body heat with her, so she wouldn’t get too cold. He drowned out the little voice in his head that said her cheek was already too cold, that her eyes were no longer seeing, that her chest was no longer moving, by internally repeating that everything is goin’ to be okay, rescue is on its way, breathing “Hold on, Sweets, please, hold on,” onto her face.

Jake could not tell how long it took for the first whirr of the rescue helicopter to reach his ears. For him, it felt like years and less than a second at the same time. He heard it getting closer, he heard the urgent steps of the rescue team, he heard them shouting, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying. Words he’d otherwise have no trouble comprehending turned into muddled sludge in his head. Only when the first man came into his field of vision did Jake spring into action.

“Please, help her, she-sh-she is hurt, please, please, she needs help!” He rushed out, placing his free arm under his wife’s knees, raising her bridal style.

The rescue team was surprised at first to see him capable of standing, but then ushered him in the helicopter, eager to get out of the dangerous zone.

Jake kept on pleading as the doctor asked him to place down his wife on the floor, so he could begin the examination, but his tight grip did not loosen.

“Lieutenant, I’m going to need you to let her go,” the doctor said very articulate, to make sure Jake understood, but he couldn’t, his hold on her remained unchanging, taking the rest of the team to pry her from his arms.

Once he was no longer feeling her weight, he dropped onto one of the seats, like he was a ragdoll. His eyes trained on the doctor taking in the deep, gaping wound on his wife’s head while placing his fingers to the pulse point at her neck. A moment passed, then the doctor shook his head. He spared a glance at her caved ribs, frown deepening, his lips thinning into a flat line. Jake in his shocked confusion couldn’t understand the lack of action on the doctor’s part. He couldn’t understand why the doctor wasn’t helping his wife; he should be applying bandages, cleaning her wounds, trying to get her to gain consciousness, keeping her warm, laying some of the blankets that were piled on him on her instead, she needed them more than he did, they should do something-

“I am sorry, Lieutenant. She is gone,” the doctor said, condolence dripping from his voice, one hand brushing the broken woman’s eyes closed gently.

But Jake couldn’t have that. The words did not compute for him. No, there must be a mistake...

“Check again. She has to be alright. She has to be,” he said with more authority than he actually possessed, a sense of dismissal of the doctor’s expertise, that if he were not traumatised as much as he was could have almost been interpreted as cruel, making its way into his tone as he moved down to kneel beside his wife once again.

“I am sorry, there’s nothing we can do,” the doctor reiterated, not taking his tone personally.

“No. No, come on Sweets, come on, I’m here, rescue is here…” Jake went on, voice getting higher and thinner with each word he spoke, cradling his wife once again, only this time, he held her closer.

“Lieutenant, you must let her go. We need to check you too,” the doctor urged.

But Jake couldn’t comprehend him. He was too immersed in murmuring reassurances into his wife’s ear that she could no longer hear.

“Lieutenant,” repeated the doctor, becoming more exasperated, putting a hand on the pilot’s shoulder, who fought with every bit of his denial to block out the stone-cold truth in his arms, trying to divert the pilot’s attention to him instead.

“No! She has to be okay!” Jake jerked the doctor’s hand off, anger now gaining dominance, “She is going to be okay!”

“Leave him be doc,” said another member of the rescue team as the doctor opened his mouth to call to Jake once more, trying to ease the situation.

“He needs to be checked out,” the doctor feebly tried to argue, but agreed more and more with the man by the second.

“He carried her up, I think he can wait ‘till we land,” the man coaxed.

“Right,” the doctor conceded, keeping his eyes on the broken pilots.

Jake was exhausted, but he kept his embrace around his wife tight, pulling her further into him. He didn’t pay attention to anything going on around him for the rest of their flight. The only thing he could focus on was that his wife was in his arms. He had her. He got her, she had to be okay. He vowed to keep her safe, he must keep her safe. He didn’t care what the doctor was telling him. He couldn’t hear his words over the blood rushing in his ears and if he were completely honest, he didn’t care. He just wanted to hold her. Make her better. Get her comfortable – and the way the rescue team splayed her out on the floor looked anything but comfortable. So, he cuddled her to his chest as close as he could, making sure that her back was off the hard floor, and resting across his legs.

Her bloody lips were turning purple. She must be so cold, he thought. He took her delicate, fragile hands into his big ones and brought them up to his mouth, breathing over them, chapped lips ghosting over her cold skin caked in dirt and blood, slightly wet from the melting snow. He pressed a feather-light kiss on her left ring finger where her wedding band would have been, then resumed letting out big breaths through his mouth, all in hopes of warming her motionless freezing fingers. He laid a gentle, barely-there kiss on her bruised cheek.

“You’ll be okay, Sweets, just hold on, please, hold on,” he whispered into her unhearing ear once again.

When he pulled slightly away to take in her features, he was surprised to see beads of water sprinkled over her cheeks, some leaving cleaned streaks in the grime on her face as they rolled off. He raised a hand to his own face. Oh. He didn’t realise he was still crying. The tears seemed never-ending; no conscious effort could have stopped them – not that Jake tried really at all. Taking care of his wife was much more important.

Rocking slightly from side to side, he kept whispering words of reassurance, unsure whether for his wife’s or his own benefit.

The jolt from the helicopter’s landing broke Jake out of the loop his mind slipped into.

The anxious calm and monotony of the flight broke, giving way to rushing – controlled from anyone but Jake’s view. To him, it was chaos.

The rescue team filed out of the helicopter, urging, and helping him to stand.

Arms ever so carefully wrapped around his wife, he lifted her bridal style and made his way out, flanked by the members of the rescue team on both sides.

It all happened so quickly. One moment he was holding her in his arms, eyes getting used to the sudden light and the calm wind as they walked further away from the helicopter, the next they pulled her out of his grasp, placing her down on a stretcher – not as gently as Jake himself would have done – that was already covered with a black bag. Once her body was nestled in, the doctor pulled up the zip, shielding her battered, bruised face from Jake’s sight, ending his last ever glance at her.

A shuddering breath rattled his lungs. Jake followed the stretcher with his gaze until the team carrying it reached the entrance to the inside of the carrier and the doors closed behind them, shutting Jake off completely, his arms still outstretched.

He froze. Suddenly, he didn’t know what he should do. His mind went blank, the only sensation remaining was the gaping hole opening wider, permanently, in his chest. Vaguely, he was aware that two medics were waiting on him to make a move towards the infirmary, so he could get checked out properly, but his legs wouldn’t move. He didn’t want to move.

Slowly, his head bowed, and he took in his body. His flight suit was covered in blood. Her blood.

Jake was going to be sick. He ran to the railing, undeterred by the concerned voices of the people around and emptied his stomach into the ocean.

Leaning on the metal, he gasped for air, lungs scrambling for oxygen that seemed to be too scarce to be enough. It was like the rug had been swept from under him. His legs gave way and Jake fell onto the floor of the carrier.

He didn’t care about the pain shooting up from his bottom at the harsh contact. He didn’t care about the commotion behind him as the medical and the rescue team got another stretcher. He laid down and stared up at the sky. The only thing he cared about was his wife. And she was gone. With her, he had a plan, had a future, had a purpose. He knew what he wanted, what he had, what he had to do. But now, there was nothing certain. She was gone, and Jake Seresin was lost. He was only certain of two things:

1. He will never love ever again,

2. He will never fly in a two-seater ever again.

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x wife #jake seresin #top gun maverick #my writing #happy halloween

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seresimp · 7 months

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Okay, so none of you asked for this, but I'm giving it to you anyway.

Jake watched as Scout walked down the busy street with the young man still in tow beside her. His jaw twitched in irritation as he made no move to drop his arm from around her shoulder. Who did this guy think he was? Jake's jaw clenched painfully at the sight of you laughing and smiling up at him. Why couldn't you do that with him?

"That must have been so hard for you," chortled Coyote beside him, grinning wide at his best friend. Jake gave him a less than amused look, watching as the two rounded the corner onto the street towards the ranch.

"I mean, it's not often you get turned down by any woman, let alone the same one," Javy continued.

"Wait, what happened?" Mickey asked, coming up to them with Bob and Reuben in tow. Jake groaned as Javy's smile grew wider.

"Jake got dressed down by little Scout in a most spectacular fashion just now."

"Really?" Reuben grinned. "Isn't this the same girl who yelled at you in the middle of the street?"

"The very one!" Javy beemed, and Jake gave him a dirty look.

Bob shuffled on his feet anxiously, looking at Jake with big, round eyes. He swallowed thickly, "how is she?"

Jake's gaze softened as he took the younger man in. "She's fine, Bobby."

"I'll say!" Javy guffawed, resting a hand on Jake's shoulder. "She's feistier than before! She practically through the necklace back in his face!"

Jake's frown deepened as he stared down at the necklace in his hand. Javy wasn't far off, and she had assumed the worst of him. Sure, he hadn't come by his money in a way she had deemed "respectable," but old Mr. Benson was a kind man. Jake had helped patch his roof up before the first downpour of the year when the old man mentioned the roof had started leaking. It had taken Jake a whole week to finish the project by himself, and the old man had insisted on repaying him. Jake hadn't been able to think of anything at the time, but he had seen you yesterday afternoon.

He hadn't gone up to you then, perfectly content to just watch you go about your business as he watched you from the sidelines. Thankfully, you hadn't noticed him, but he definitely noticed as you stopped in front of the jeweler's shop window. He watched as your eyes glittered at the sight of the jewels in the display window. Your face remained neutral, however, and in those quiet moments, Jake sees the quiet, well-bred lady you were back East.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" an older woman had asked, coming up behind her. Scout had jumped a little in surprise, but offered the older woman a warm smile. He really wished you'd look at him like that.

"It is," the younger woman nodded, looking back at the display.

"Whoever receives that, is a lucky woman," the old woman chuckled. Scout hummed in agreement, a dreamy smile on her face. The old woman had bid her farewell before continuing on her way. Scout had returned the sentiment, casting one last look at the display before turning and walking in the opposite direction. Jake watched after her, wondering how he was going to figure out which piece she had been looking at. He felt a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see the old woman from before standing in front of him, a knowing smile on her face.

"It was the emerald," she whispered to him. He smiled broadly down at her. "Thank you," he whispered back, tipping his hat at her before making a beeline for the door. Mr. Benson had needed no convincing or force, as Scout had implied. In fact, Mr. Benson had shoved Jake's money back into his hand along with the emerald.

"Call it me returning a favor," he had smiled before sending Jake on his way.

Now here he was, a day later with his pride wounded.

"What did she say exactly?" Bob asked, looking at the blond.

"Said she only accepts gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way," Javy grinned.

Bob looked down thoughtfully before looking at Jake with a determined expression on his face. "Then do it."

"What?" Jake blinked, taken aback. The other Daggers didn't look that much different as they stared at the usually shy man.

"Go earn your money in a respectable way if you're serious about this," Bob stated, eyes hard. Jake studied him before giving a slight nod and walking off, leaving the others in the market. Jake walked aimlessly for a bit as he thought of what he could do. Steady work was hard to come by, which was why the Daggers held their current occupations. He thought back to something Maverick had mentioned in passing that morning.

"Benjamin says that he's still looking for ranch hands to tend the herd. Says he wants strong, young men for the job," he had said. "I told him I'd send him anyone who came by looking for work."

Jake spun on his heels and marched his way to the two story building that stood by the bank. He walked through the door confidently, Natasha Trace turning to greet him with a smile before realizing who he was.

"What are you-?" she had started, but he walked past her and into the hallway leading to the offices. Natasha called after him, but he ignored her, turning into the final door on the left.

Benjamin was hunched over his desk, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read over the papers in front of him. He looked up with a start, eyes widening at the sight of Jake before him. Jake strutted over to the chair on the opposite side of where the other man sat, plopping down into the plush, leather seat. Benjamin stared at him as Jake sat his feet on the edge of the desk, legs crossed, and began inspecting his nails.

"Hangman," Benjamin said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your new ranch hand," Jake announced with a smirk. Benjamin stared.

"What?"

"Mav always said I should walk into interviews like I already have the job."

"Jake," Benjamin started, "Why do you even want a job?"

Jake shrugged. "Could be good to have on my resume."

"I see," the other man chuckled, giving him a knowing half-smile. Benjamin leaned back in his chair. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with my baby sister, would it?"

Jake felt the tips of his ears heat up as he continued to inspect his fingernails.

"Benjamin," he drawled, "has anyone ever told you to mind your business?"

Benjamin let out an easy-going laugh.

"Once or twice," he grinned at the blond. "Why don't you find something else, though? I hear the butcher is hiring-"

"No," Jake said simply.

"Come again?"

"You're lookin', and I'm willin' to work. I don't see what's so hard to understand about that."

Benjamin frowned slightly. "I don't understand why it must be my ranch."

"Just somethin' special about it, I suppose."

Benjamin hummed.

"You aren't going to take 'no' for an answer, are you?" he groused.

"Nope," Jake grinned, popping his lips on the last sound. Benjamin sighed with a shake of his head.

"Fine. Be at the ranch at sunrise tomorrow morning."

"Will do, boss."

#so great haha!#“It was the emerald” she whispered to him.#<- love this woman #“In fact Mr. Benson had shoved Jake's money back into his hand along with the emerald.” “Call it me returning a favor” he had smiled“#<- love Mr. Benson such a nice man #“Mav always said I should walk into interviews like I already have the job.”#<- taking notes...#“You're lookin' and I'm willin' to work. I don't see what's so hard to understand about that.”#<- so on point!#love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Five

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, Reader being angsty, Jake Seresin (flirting, jealous), Fingering, Dirty talk

Word Count: 4,766 (oops)

A/N: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of love you all showed Chapter Four! It was beyond anything I could have every imagined!! Side note, I also love how many of you come into my inbox and leave me asks either praising the stories, or just talk about them (*hint, hint*)! I'm honestly shocked you all aren't sick of me and these stories yet with how much I talk about them. Thank you all. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist

A month ago, you didn’t jump every time a door opened to loudly in the other room. A month ago, you didn’t bolt up in bed in the middle of the night with the phantom stench of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. A month ago, you didn’t dream about grabbing hands and cold, black eyes that stared at you with the intention to possess. A month ago, the sight of the little, hand-carved horse didn’t fill you with an instant sense of comfort and warmth.

You had found it sitting on the railing by the steps of the porch the morning after the incident at the saloon. You had walked out the front door to do the morning chores, Benjamin having already tripped out the door with a promise thrown over his shoulder to come check on you in the later morning after his meeting. It wasn’t a masterpiece by any means, but it was clear that someone had spent a lot of time whittling it down before deeming it presentable. You had walked over to it slowly, taking it in your hands gently. Whoever had carved it had made sure to add in extra details. You could see the curve of the horse’s eyes and the strands of its mane that flowed down its back. Every detail had been painstakingly carved as if the crafter had wanted it to be perfect. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart swelled when you saw the final detail on the underside of the horse’s belly.

J.S.

The wooden horse had quickly found a home on your bedside table where you would pluck it from its perch during the late night hours, holding it to you tightly before drifting back into a comfortable sleep only to repeat the same cycle the following night.

The cattle had arrived shortly after the departure of the Dagger Posse from town, and both you and Benjamin found yourselves scrambling to hire workers to help with the overwhelming workload.

“I’ll put the word out, don’t you worry,” Maverick had smiled over dinner one night. Two days later, three young, new faces had made themselves comfortable in the small cabin behind the house.

“Isaac is a mean sonofabitch,” Penny had told you once she heard about what happened in her saloon. “But I wouldn’t worry too much about him for the time being, especially now that Pete and Tom know he’s in the area. He’ll lie low for a little while to try and wait’em out.”

Her words left you with little comfort, but you slowly stopped casting worried glances over your shoulder every couple of seconds every time you left the confines of your home. An easy routine had settled on your ranch. Get up, get ready for the day, feed the goats and chickens, tend to your garden, make supper for the ranch hands and Benjamin, work on mending the various articles of clothing that were handed to you, go to bed, repeat.

The subtle coolness in the air that had been present a month ago finally gave way to a full blown chill, and you soon found yourself planting winter vegetables.

“How are you today, miss?”

You looked up to see one of the ranch hands, Levi, smiling down at you from where he leaned over the fence. He was a handsome man, maybe only a year or two older than you. Brown hair draped across the golden skin of his forehead and baby blue eyes twinkled at you.

“I’m doing just fine,” you smiled at him. “And I’ve told you a hundred times now to call me Scout, Levi.”

He chuckled, grinning at you. “Of course, Scout.”

He walked around the length of the fence and through the gate to drop down beside you where your hands were digging up the cold earth.

“Anything I can help you with?” he offered, chucking the dead plants beside you into the bucket behind you.

“No, I think I’m just about done here,” you hummed, wiping your hands on your soiled apron, smiling at the handsome man. “But, I could use some help bringing things back from the market, if you don’t mind helping?”

“Of course,” Levi grinned, offering you a hand as you moved to stand. You took it, and he pulled you up gently, pulling you into him slightly. The two of you stood in silence as he stared down at you. He looked at you with a gentle expression, causing heat to rise to your cheeks.His baby blue eyes moving to closing as he began to lean into you oh so slowly. You wished they were green.

The thought alone snapped you from your daze, and you pulled away from Levi with a clear of your throat. Resting a hand on his chest, you refused to meet his gaze, eyes darting around the yard nervously. “I should go clean up.”

“Right,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “I’ll be here.”

You gave him a brief smile before pushing past him and into the house. Minutes later you were walking out the front door towards Levi, basket in hand. He offered you a smile which you returned shyly before the two of you made your way into town. There was a distinct lack of children running around, which you were grateful for. Maverick had announced to the congregation after the church service the previous morning that the first day of school would be held in the sanctuary the next morning. He had then introduced the new teacher, who appeared to be a shy little thing before the reverend had dismissed everyone for the day. This was of course after word had spread that the Dagger Posse was back in town. You had overheard two of the girls in the pews ahead of you giggling about the different men.

“Did you hear?” giggled a red head to her friend excitedly. “The Dagger Posse is back in town!”

That had caught your attention.

“Really?” the blonde had squealed, earning several disapproving looks from the older members of the congregation. The two girls paid them no mind. “When did they arrive?”

“Just last night!”

This was news to you. You were shocked at the wave of disappointment that rolled over you. They had gotten in last night? Why were you just hearing about it? You were shaken from your thoughts when the red head continued.

“Oh, that Jake is so handsome!”

That had caused you to let out a rather unladylike snort, drawing the attention of the girl who sat a few rows ahead of you. You rolled your eyes at the other two to your left. The blond man was very handsome, but if only they knew his true nature.

“He is,” the blonde nodded with a wistful sigh. “But that Bradley isn’t so bad on the eyes either. It’s been horrible going this long without seeing all those handsome men walking around town.”

Your thoughts soured at the reminder as you fought to keep your face neutral. You weren’t even sure why you cared so much. It wasn’t like you even liked the man. He was cocky, brash, pig-headed, thoughtful, brave-

You shook your head. You would not go down that road. Mercifully, the reverend had started the service moments later and you were given a reprieve from the ridiculous thoughts that insisted on taking up residence inside your head. Jake hadn’t come to see you that day, and now here you were; standing in the market and well into the next day.

You greeted Hondo where he stood behind the counter as usual.

“Mornin’, Scout!” he grinned at you. “What can I help you with today?”

“Was just coming to see if Joel was back with any sugar.”

Hondo gave you an apologetic grimace. “‘Fraid not, honey. He should be back any day now though, so you keep comin’ by and checkin’.”

“That’s alright,” you smiled. You turned to look at Levi. “Why don’t you go on down to the feed store and purchase some hay for the horses? I’ll finish up here and meet you at the stalls by the saloon.”

“Alright,” he smiled, giving you a lingering look before turning and walking out the door. You chatted with Hondo for a couple of minutes as he filled a container with salt and packed different preserves into your basket. You waved to him with a promise to check back in the following day before stepping outside. You had just made it to the stalls of the market when you felt eyes on you. A couple of girls walking by stared past you, and they giggled before you heard him speak.

“Mornin’, Scout,” Jake drawled. You turned to see him leaning up against the side of the butcher’s shop, arms crossed in front of his chest and a cocky smirk hanging from his lips. Green eyes studied you as you stared.

“Jake,”you greeted cooly, mouth pressing into a firm line. Jake’s smirk turned into a grin as he pushed off the wall, taking slow, deliberate steps towards you.

“Missed you, pretty girl,” he hummed, reaching up to dance his fingertips across your cheek.

You couldn’t stop the words that left your mouth. “Not enough to come and see me when you got back yesterday, apparently.”

Jake leaned his head back with a booming laugh, causing your cheeks to heat up. His laughter died down into a low chortle as he looked at you with twinkling eyes. “Is that why you’re being so cold to me, pretty girl? Y’mad that I didn’t come and see you?”

“Hardly,” you snapped, glaring up at him. His smile didn’t falter.

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he chuckled, “had I known you’d be this upset, I would have come to see you first thing.”

You ignored him, turning to walk towards the stalls. He wasn’t far behind you, and when you stopped in front of a stall to inspect the apples, he pressed up against you from behind. He leaned down so that his mouth hovered over your ear. “I got something for you.”

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, and he let out another chuckle, turning you slowly to face him. He reached into the pocket of his pants when you were fully facing him, pulling out a long, golden chain. Attached at the end was a large, cut emerald surrounded by a halo of tiny diamonds that sparkled in the late morning sunlight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at it, recognizing it from the jeweler’s shop just down the road. It cost a fortune, and many women around town had taken turns to stand in front of the shop windows to admire it.

“You like it?” he smirked, holding it up for you to see it closer. You nodded slowly, eyes wide.

Your hand moving on its own to reach up and stroke over the precious gem.

“Thought of you when I saw it, pretty girl,” he hummed, leaning in so that his breath fanned over your face. “Thought the green would help you remember me when I’m not here.”

“How did you afford this?” you breathed, voice so soft even to your own ears.

“I have my ways.”

Your eyes snapped up to his at that. Frowning, you took a half step back to put some distance between the two of you.

“You mean you bought it with stolen money,” you accused. “Or did you just force Mr. Benson to give it to you free of charge?”

“I bought it, if you must know,” he sniffed, looking more than a little put out at your sudden shift in tone.

“With money you earned?”

“Oh, I earned it,” he smirked ruefully.

You scoffed at that.

“You shouldn’t lie, Jake,” you said pointedly. “It’s a filthy, disgusting habit.”

“What does it matter?” he frowned. You narrowed your eyes up at him.

“It matters,” you seethed, “because I only accept gifts from men who earn their money in a respectable way.”

Before Jake could reply, you heard someone call your name.

“Scout?”

You both turned to see Levi watching you two with an uncertain expression on his face. He walked over to the two of you, and he placed an arm around your shoulder. Jake stiffened at the action, eyes blazing and lips set in a tight line.

“Is everything okay?” Levi asked. You flashed him with a quick smile.

“Yes,” you reassured him, turning back to glare at Jake who still had his eyes locked onto Levi, scanning him up and down with a look of utter distaste. “We should get going. I forgot to grab the goat’s milk for Penny and we need to get the cart to pick up the hay.”

Levi nodded, looking uncertainly between you and Jake. You turned and began to walk through the crowd without a glance back at blond behind you.

Levi and one of the other ranch hands, Phillip, had dropped you off in front of the saloon with the promise that you would meet them by the bank before sunset. That had been a couple of hours ago, and you had fallen into an easy conversation with the older woman.

“She’s a timid, little thing,” Penny said as men began to make their way into the saloon. “I’ve never seen Bradley so sweet on anyone before. Calls her Birdie and everything.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled softly. “I hope one day someone will feel that way about me.”

“What on earth are you talkin’ about, darlin’?” she chuckled incredilously, stopping her movements to stare at you. “You’ve got that Seresin boy wrapped around your little finger.”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

Penny shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you. “You may not see it, Scout, but everyone in town knows it. That boy would eat his boots if you asked him to.”

“I doubt that,” you frowned. “You know he tried to give me a necklace today?”

The older woman perked up at that. “He did?”

You nodded, humming at the memory. “You know that emerald pendant that’s been sitting in Mr. Benson’s window for forever and a day? It was that one.”

“Well where is it?” she asked curiously, eyes darting down to see the empty space by your collarbone.

“I didn’t accept it,” you said plainly, earning a look. “He bought it with stolen money, Penny. How could I accept it? I can’t. I won’t.”

Penny watched you thoughtfully for a moment. “What is it you want from him?”

You stared at the wooden top of the bar, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully. “I want him to make an effort to do things the right way.”

“Alright,” Penny conceded, a knowing smile on her face. She turned to pull out some bottles from behind the bar, and stopped when her eyes caught sight of one of the windows. “Weren’t you supposed to meet your ranch hands at sunset?”

You turned to see what she was looking at and let out a low curse. It was clear that the sun had set ages ago, inky darkness resting against the windowpanes as lamp light filtered out.

“If you go now, they might still be waiting for you outside,” she said as you scrambled to your feet. You cast her one last smile over your shoulder before waving her goodbye. Practically sprinting out of the packed saloon, your warm cheeks were kissed by the cold, night air. Your breath came out in puffs as your eyes swept the street for any sign of the men you had come into town with. The streets were empty save for the few men who stood outside the saloon. Sighing, you figured they must have thought you had already gone home without them. You cursed again and began to make your way down the street. You had only made it three buildings down before realizing that footsteps sounded behind you, following you. The hair on the back of your neck stood on edge as a wave of terror washed over you. You quickened your pace, and tried not to panic as the footsteps behind you matched your pace. Your heart began to hammer as you heard more footsteps join in with the first.

You rounded the corner a few paces ahead of the group behnd you. You let out a yelp as a hand grabbed you from the shadows of an allyway, pulling you into a strong chest. You struggled as the man pushed you up against the wall, hand still covering your mouth.

“Hey, hey. Scout, it’s me.”

You opened your eyes, struggling to focus on the stranger in front of you as you adjusted to the darkness. Jake stood in front of you, eyes filled with worry as he watched you relax. The both of you stiffened when you heard a man shout from the front of the building, and Jake turned his head to look.

“She went this way!”

Jake looked back at you, seeming to weigh his options. He removed his hand from your mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“What?” you asked breathlessly.

“Do you trust me?”

You heard the shouts of the men grow closer as you studied the man in front of you. Slowly, you nodded.

“Then you better make this believable,” he said. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Jake reached down to grip the back of your legs, hoisting you up and pinning you againt the wall. You let out a startled gasp as he wrapped your legs around your waist, and you clutched at his shoulders. Jake gave you one final look before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but his lips were surprisingly soft against yours. Jake’s lips moved against yours slowly, urging you to respond. Slowly, unsurely, you began to move your lips against his and he let out a desperate sounding moan. His hands clutched your hips in a vice as he moved his knee in between your legs, slotting it against you. You let out a gasp at the action, and Jake took full advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. His tongue caressed yours gently as his right hand slid up the length of your body to rest under your left breast. Your hands moved on their own to tangle in the strands of hair that rested at the base of his neck, tugging lightly. Jake rewarded you with a strangled groan and a press of his knee into your core. You cried out at the action, feeling Jake grin against your mouth as he nipped on your bottom lip.

“Any sign of her?”

You moved to pull away and look at where the voice came from, but Jake’s hand moved up pull you back into him before returning to its spot on your chest.

“No,” came a voice at the enterance to the ally. “Just a randy couple back here.”

You heard him walk away, and the hammering of your heart in your chest was due only in part to the small fraction of relief at his exit. Jake licked into your mouth like a man starved, delving deeper with each pass of his tongue against yours. You felt your hips rock against his knee, and you let out a desperate keen when he pulled his lips away from you. He kissed from the corner of your mouth and down the expanse of your neck. Finding a spot below your ear that made you give out a particularly loud noise, he smiled against you before honing in. He left little nips to the spot, soothing the sting with his tongue before sucking a bruise into your skin.

“Jake,” you cried out, the pleasure clouding your mind. Jake pulled back to look at you, eyes blazing and darkened with lust. He studied you for a brief moment before a salacious grin broke out across his kiss swollen lips. His right hand moved to grab your breast, squeezing gently at the same time he ground his knee into your core. You let out a quiet wail, arching into his touch, desperate to have his lips back on you. He complied with a chuckle, leaning back in to bury his face into your neck. His left hand still sat on your hip, and he used it to help grind you against him. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses as he made his way from the base of your neck and up to your ear.

“I should take you over my knee, you know,” he ground out hotly, nipping at your earlobe. “Walking around here at night with no one to accompany you. Lucky for you I happened to be walking along.”

You let out a choked gasp as he removed his right hand from your chest, sliding it down and under your skirts. With expertise, he bunched the offending material at your waist before reaching his hand into your drawers. Your head hit the wall when you felt his finger press against your entrance.

“So wet for me already, sweeheart, and I’ve barely even touched you,” he murmured into your ear. “Nobody has ever touched you like this, have they, angel?”

You shook your head, too far gone to answer and certainly too far gone to care about the consequences. He pressed a finger into you, your mind going blank at the sudden intrusion. His finger felt so big inside of you, and you let out another choked gasp at the slight burn as he stretched you.

“I know, sweet girl,” he cooed into your ear, slowly adding a second finger and thrusting up into you. “Let me make you feel good, darlin’.”

Your cries grew higher pitched as he slowly began to pick up the pace of his hand, palm brushing the little bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars.

“You’re so tight, baby,” he moaned hotly into your ear, pressing gentle kisses to your cheek that served as a stark contrast to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. Your cheeks grew hot as you heard the squelch that sounded every time he pumped into you. “Do you hear that, pretty girl? You’re pussy is so gready, sweet thing. She keeps sucking me back in like she doesn’t want me to leave.”

He licked a strip up from the base of your neck back up to your jaw before giving the skin there a gentle nip.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Feels good to just lean back and let me take care o’ you lke this. Nobody is ever going to make you feel like the way you do right now. Only I can make you feel this good.”

“Jakey,” you whined, reaching down to draw him into a kiss. He moaned into your mouth, pulling back to stare at you hotly.

“Say it again,” he whispered against your lips, fingers moving faster as he chased your high. You felt an unfamiliar pressure begin to build in your lower stomach as you ground down onto his hand.

“Jake,” you gasped, but he shook his head, fixing you with a stern look. You felt the hot sting of tears kiss at your eyes, crying out when he slowed his movements down to a crawl. His eyes bore into you, and you tried desperately to move your hips against him, but his hand had you pinned. He tsked up at you with a borderline sneer at your pitiful attempts to get yourself off.

“Try again, sweet girl.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried, feeling a tear escape and roll down your cheek. Jake hushed you, once again resuming the pace of his thrusts. You clutched at him desperately, nails digging into the exposed skin of his chest. Jake let out a soft hiss and slipped a third finger into you, causing a loud cry to spill out past your lips. He crooked his fingers in a “come hither” motion that had you gushing around the invading appendages. He smiled. “There she is.”

“Tell me who this sweet, little cunt belongs to,” he demanded. You clenched around him at his words, a strangled moan slipping past his lips at how tight you felt.

“You,” you cried, more tears streaming down your cheeks, begging desperately for your release as you stared into his green eyes.

“What’s my name, sweetheart?” He demanded, focusing his fingers on that one spot inside you that had you crying out and clutching at him every time. “C’mon, sweet girl. What’s my name?”

“Jakey!” you cried wantonly, burying your face into his neck. His groans became breathless and constant as you began to press sweet, chaste kisses to the spot between his neck and shoulder.

“Again,” he ground out, feeling you squeeze him impossibly tighter as you neared your end. “Let this whole town know who you belong to.”

“Jakey!” you wailed at the top of your lungs. Your gaze flashed white as you came hard around him, biting into the juncture of his shoulder. You felt your release gush out past his fingers as he continued thrusting, riding out your high.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” he hummed into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your cheek as you calmed down. “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

As your breathing returned to normal, Jake slowly pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to hiss at how empty you suddenly felt. Jake chuckled, holding your gaze as he brought his fingers up this lips. He sucked on them with a hum as he closed his eyes, savoring the taste of you. You choked out a breath at the sight, the fire inside of you returning with a vengeance at the sight.

He slowly opened his eyes to look at you, dropping his fingers back to his side. His gaze was affectionate as he leaned forward to nuzzle your nose with his. “Just as I thought.”

You looked up at him in confusion. A smirk played on his lips.

“Sweet as honey.”

Jake made sure your skirt was on correctly before pulling you by the hand out of the allyway. He walked you quickly to your front door, stopping you with a grab of your wrist before you went inside. You turned to him with a confused frown as he looked affectionately down at you, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, so quick you weren’t sure he had even done it. He let go of your wrist and took one step down off the porch.

“Goodnight, Scout.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

The next morning your brother greeted you with a scowl, chastising you for getting home so late.

“What were you even doing, Scout?” he griped. You felt the blood rush to your cheeks and you refused to look at him.

“I just lost track of the time while talking with Penny,” you answered him, quickly clearing the plates from the table. Benjamin’s scowl grew deeper at your answer.

“That was stupid,” he snapped, earning a glare from you. “You need to be more careful. Who knows what could have happe-”

“Benji, it’s fine,” you cut him off with a huff. Placing your hands on your hips, you watched him as he moved to put his work boots on to go outside. “I know last night isn’t what has you in such a foul mood, so what is it? What happened?”

He didn’t say anything as you followed him towards towards the back door.

“Benji?”

“We hired on a new ranch hand,” he said evenly, this tone worrying you more than the previous one. “Was real insistent he get a job here too.”

“Alright?” you questioned, following him down the steps and into the yard. You saw four figures hammering away at the fence posts down by the barn, and you took quick steps to keep up with your brother’s longer ones. “Do we not have enough to pay him?”

“Nothing like that,” Benjamin muttered, casting a quick glance your way before back at the figures ahead of you. “Just know I blame you for this.”

“Benjamin, are you going to tell me what this is about or-”

You were cut off as the men stopped their hammering to look at the two of you as you approached. Each one greeted you, but your eyes were glued to the newcomer. An easy grin hung on his lips and mirthful, green eyes stared at you as you gaped.

“Hey there, honey girl.”

289 notes · View notes

seresimp · 7 months

Text

Don’t Hang’em Til Noon: Chapter Four

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Assault, Fighting, Violence (against women and others), Jake Seresin, Firearms, Blood. I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I hope you guys appreciate me neglecting my job to write this lol I’m kidding, we were so slow, I would have been bored to tears otherwise. Just giving you guys a heads up now that I’m going to try and pre-write as much as I can over the course of the next couple of days in preparation for next week when I’ll be attending my best friends’ wedding. As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist

“I swear, that man would lose his head if it weren’t attached to his shoulders,” you grumbled to yourself, as you made for the front door of your home. You had just finished cleaning up the mess from preparing breakfast when Benjamin had come running down the stairs in a frenzy.

“Benji, come eat,” you had said, gesturing to the table that was already set. He had shaken his head, turning in circles as he searched for his dress coat.

“I can’t, Scout. I’m running late for a meeting with a client,” he had said breathlessly. You rolled your eyes, plucking his coat off the back of the chair he had set it on the night before when he had gotten home. You held it out for him, and he shot you a grateful smile as he shrugged it on.

“At least grab an apple on your way out,” you had argued. He plucked a granny smith from the bowl you had set out on the table, gesturing at you with it before making a beeline for the door.

“I don’t know what time I’ll be home tonight,” he called over his shoulder before the door closed with a thud behind him.

Now, here you were hours later with his case files clutched in your hands and scowl plastered across your face. You slipped past the door, and making sure it was secured behind you, you made your way into Maverick.

It was nearing the end of summer, and a surprising chill was beginning to creep its way into the air. You made your way quickly to Benjamin’s law firm, giving polite smiles to those you passed.

You stepped into the firm with the files tucked tightly in your arms. Natasha came strolling out from the back with a polite smile that turned genuine at the sight of you.

“Good afternoon, Scout!” She grinned, gesturing for you to join her in the seating area. You did so, taking a seat on a leather armchair as she sat in the matching one opposite you. “What brings you by today?”

“Benji forgot some of his files,” you sighed, showing her the file. Natasha chuckled with a roll of her eyes. If anyone understood how exasperating your brother could be, it would be her.

“He was up late working again, wasn’t he?” She asked. You shit her a knowing look before the two of you burst into a fit of giggles. “That man will blow away with the wind, I swear. How he manages to keep this place in order is beyond me.”

“He may be a tad bit scatterbrained, but he takes his job very seriously,” you smiled. You were surprised he hadn’t come out to see what the commotion was about yet. “Is he around?”

“No,” she grimaced. “His client insisted on meeting at the saloon.”

“I see,” you said, standing up. Natasha followed suit, reaching her arm out to you.

“I can take the files and give them to him when he gets back?” She offered.

“That’s alright,” you declined. “I could use the exercise. You said he was at the saloon?”

“I did,” Natasha confirmed hesitantly. “But Penny isn’t there today.”

You stared at her. “And?”

“It's just that,” she started nervously. “The patrons can get pretty handsy when Penny isn’t there. Not that I don’t think you can hold your own, but I don't want to see anything happen to you should they get any ideas.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, Nat,” you smiled. “I’ll just be in and out. I don’t plan on staying for long. I still have things I need to do back at the house after all.”

Natasha chewed on her bottom li, seeming to contemplate her best course of action. Finally, she sighed. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you stated firmly, already moving towards the door. “I won’t take up any more of your time. I’m sure you’re busy with other things.”

“Spending time with you is never a bother, Scout,” she grinned. “Stay safe, and give your brother hell for me when you see him!”

You offered her a final wave before stepping back out onto the street. You turned right onto the street, setting your sights on the saloon.

The atmosphere differed from your first time inside the large building. Instead of Penny standing behind the bar with her usual easy going smile, a tall man with glasses stood and waved a greeting at you.

“Welcome in, miss!” He smiled. You recognized him from the other day.

“I know you,” you said carefully, slowly making your way up to the bar as you studied him curiously. “You’re a member of the Dagger Posse, correct?”

His smile turned sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes’m. My name is Bob, and you’re Scout right?”

You hummed in affirmation. “And Penny trusts you to run her business?”

He laughed at that, almost catching you by surprise. “I get why you find that hard to believe. If I was in your shoes, I’d think that Penny had lost her mind or something.

You chuckled at that. “I suppose it says something about your character that Penny trusts you enough to leave the saloon in your hands.”

“She does,” he nodded. “I don’t take people’s trust for granted.”

“That’s good to know, Bob.”

He smiled at you and then moved like he was going to say something, but he seemed to think better of it. You arched an eyebrow at him as he shifted on his feet, a blush crawling up his face. “What is it?” You asked.

“Penny doesn’t trust just anyone, ya know?”

“I know that,” you nodded. “What of it?”

“The reason Penny trusts me is because I keep the others out of trouble.”

You laughed at that, and he frowned. “I’m sorry, Bob. I don’t mean to offend. It’s just that, well, if they’re out robbing banks and breaking laws left and right, I’d hate to think about what they’d be doing without you.”

“It’s not like that,” Bob sighed. “They aren’t as bad as you may think, Scout. I know Hangman can be…a lot, sometimes. But, everything they do is out of survival.”

“Right,” you scoffed, causing the frown on Bob’s face to deepen.

“I’m serious, Scout,” he continued. “Penny mentioned that you came from Baltimore. I don’t know much about how things are done over there, but I know enough to know how different things are there compared to here. Work isn’t as steady out here as it is back East. Good men do bad things in order to keep their families safe and fed.”

“What’s your point, Bob?” You asked with a heavy sigh. He offered you a kind smile.

“Try not to be so hard on him? I know you’re used to things being a certain way, but believe it or not, he is trying.”

You didn’t have to ask who he was referring to. You mulled over his words carefully before nodding slowly.

“Alright, Bob,” you smiled finally. “I’ll keep that in mind.” His own grew, and he knocked on the wooden top of the bar as he leaned back.

“Thank you,” he said. “Now what brings you by here today?”

Before you could answer, Bob suddenly straightened up to his full height, a cool look on his face as he looked past you. Your brows furrowed in confusion before you felt a warm body push up against you. You whipped around to find a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair leering down at you. The cold, empty look in his black eyes was warmed over by a look of unbridled lust. He gave you a once over, eyes pausing along the curves of your breasts and hips.

“Howdy, darlin’,” he drawled, making the hair on your arms stand up.

“Can I help you?” You asked him coldly. You saw Bob shift in your peripheral as a couple of more men crowded you on the opposite side. The man let out a low whistle.

“Why so cold, honey? I jus’ came over here to introduce myself. Name’s Isaac.”

“Charmed,” you bit out, glare intensifying as he leaned in closer.

“Y’ain’t gonna gimme yours?” He laughed.

“I don’t see why you would need it,” you state simply, clutching the folder in your hand tightly. You cast a glance over to Bob who was eyeing the group of men wearily.

Isaac smiled, the gesture hollow. He reached up and tapped your cheek lightly, and you balked at the gesture. “Eyes over here, honey.”

“I’m going to ask you once to please stop calling me that,” you bit out between clenched teeth.

“Or what?” He grins.

“Or you won’t like what happens.”

Isaac let out a booming laugh, his companions letting out chuckles of their own. You saw movement in the corner of your eye. You once again chanced a look over and saw two of the men had crossed over to the other side of the bar. The two men had Bob caged in between them, and his eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the two of them. Isaac grabbed your chin tightly in his large hand, forcing your head back to look at him. “What did I just say about those eyes?”

“Let go of me,” you hissed, earning another chorus of laughter from the group of men.

“A feisty little thing you are,” Isaac chuckled, leaning so that his breath fanned over you. It reeked of cheap liquor and stale tobacco. “I see why Hangman has his eye on you.”

“What?” You asked, brow furrowing at his comment.

“Just so you know,” he grinned, “you have him to thank for this.”

Before you could question him further, he grabbed you by your hips and slammed you up against the bar. You felt the air leave your lungs and a flash of pain shoot up your spine. You saw Bob struggling against the two men beside him as they pinned him back. His eyes blazed and nostrils flared as he tried with all his might to break free of their hold. Your brief moment of confusion allowed Isaac to push his way in between your thighs. You felt the hot length of him press against you, and you started to struggle, clawing at his arms. Tiny ribbons of blood began to flow down his arms as he bared his teeth down at you in a crazed grin.

“That's alright, Kitten,” he laughed. “I like a bit of pain with my pleasure.”

He leaned down, slanting his lips on top of yours, and you felt the hot sting of tears behind your eyes. He thrusted up into you, causing you to gasp and cry out. He took the opportunity to force his tongue into your open mouth, and you almost vomited at the action. Without thinking, you bit down on the offending protrusion, the taste of blood filling your mouth. Isaac lurched back with a yelp, grabbing at his mouth. He glared down at you.

“Bitch!” He spat, backhanding you. Your face flew to the side, a flash of white hot pain radiates from your cheek where one of his rings had made contact, cutting you in the process. You felt blood begin to trickle down your cheek, and your tears threatened to spill over. Isaac gripped your hair roughly, slamming you back down onto the counter.

“You’re going to regret that,” he hissed at you as you fought against the dizziness that threatened to consume you from the force of his actions. Your tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as the larger man grabbed at your shirts and skirts, ripping them in a bid to get them off of you.

“No!” You screamed, renewing your efforts. Isaac ignored you as he licked up the column of your throat. Your sobs racked your body violently, legs kicking at him as he moved to undo his belt buckle. You closed your eyes in an attempt to shield yourself from what was about to happen.

Just when you thought all hope was lost, a resounding click sounded in the room. Isaac stilled against you, and you cracked your eyes open to see the barrel of a pistol pressed to his temple. Turning, you saw Jake on the other end of the weapon.

His green eyes were filled with the intention of murder as his lips curled in a sneer of pure wrath. His body was drawn tight, deathly still as he waited for Isaac to make his move. He looked every bit of what you imagined an avenging angel would look.

“Let. Her. Go,” he ground out. Isaac spared a glance at you, and the gun pressed harder into the side of his head. Slowly, the older man pulled away from you, and you scrambled to sit up on the bar. You now saw the rest of the Daggers standing behind him with their hands on their own pistols. The two men behind the bar had let go of Bob who was now moving to your side. You heard footsteps begin to descend the stairs, and you looked to see Maverick, Benjamin, and an unfamiliar older man stop as they took in the scene before them.

“Scout?” Benjamin said, eyes widening in shock. You let out a shaky breath, turning back to watch Jake who had yet to take his eyes off of Isaac. The two stared each other down.

“Hangman,” Isaac finally sniffed in way of greeting.

“What are you doing here?” Jake snapped. Isaac rolled his shoulders back casually as if there wasn’t still a gun aimed at his face.

“Well,” he drawled, “I came to collect what you took from me, but then I saw you with this pretty, little thing the other day, and I figured this would make for a good trade.”

Jake’s nostrils flared, a dangerous glint in his eyes as Isaac spoke. “I didn’t take anything that you couldn’t replace.”

“I disagree,” the other man hummed, picking a piece of lint off his shirt. “You wounded my pride, Hangman. And what better retribution than taking your woman?”

Jake’s jaw clenched, and you saw Maverick move out of the corner of your eye.

“Jake,” the older man said gently. Jake spared him a glance before focusing back on Isaac. Maverick continued, “Not here, son.”

Jake looked at him, and when Maverick gave a pointed glance at where you sat, frozen, he turned his attention to you. You must have looked a sight because Jake’s jaw clenched again. You could feel the tears still streaming down your face and mixing with the blood that still dripped down your cheek.

“Jake?” You called to him softly, uncertainly. He took several deep breaths.

“The only reason you’re leaving here alive,” he rumbled, nodding his head over at you, “is because she’s here.”

Isaac watched him for a moment, the two of them not breaking eye contact. Isaac huffed out a light chuckle before turning towards the door. He gave you one last glance before smirking, gesturing for his men to follow.

“You best keep an eye on her, Hangman,” he called over his shoulder. “Would be a right shame if something were to happen to her while you weren’t lookin’.”

Jake said nothing as they filed out. One man stopped beside Bradley, casting him a sideways glance. “Rooster.”

“Jeb,” Bradley replied coldly. The two shared an unspoken conversation before the man followed the rest out the door. As soon as they were gone, Benjamin rushed to your side.

“Scout, what happened?” he cried, checking you over. You looked down at yourself, noting how the collar of your white, cotton shirt hung by mere threads off your shoulder. You frowned at the tiny drops of blood that had fallen onto the ruined fabric.

“I,” you swallowed thickly, “I was coming to give you the casework you forgot at home this morning. I thought it might be important, so…”

You trailed off, your eyes taking in the multiple tears of your skirt, a new wave of tears pouring from your eyes. You jumped when Jake appeared in front of you. His eyes were still blazing, but you saw worry mixed in with the rest of the emotions still swirling within the different shades of green.

“What the hell were you thinking,” he seethed.

“What?” You blinked. He took your shoulders in his hands, surprisingly gentle for how angry he seemed.

“How many times do I gotta tell you that you need someone with you? Especially in here?” he growled.

“I didn’t think-”

“You’re right,” he snapped, his grip slightly harder as his frustration with you grew. “You didn’t think, and you almost got hurt because of it.”

You felt your own temper start to build as you stared up at him.

“Stop treating me like I’m some helpless child,” you snapped at him. Jake barked out a humorless laugh.

“You’re not a child, Scout,” he flung back at you. “And, that’s why it’s so damn frustrating when you do stupid shit like this.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly you can’t,” he seethed. Your jaw clenched, and you practically threw yourself onto the ground. You pushed past him with a glare and started for the door.

“Where are you going?” he demanded, already moving to follow you. You whirled back around, stopping him in his tracks with a finger to his chest.

“I’m not going to sit here and let you insult me,” you spat at him. He grabbed your hand, and pulled you in to him.

“Have you learned nothing from what just happened?” he glared down at you. “If we hadn’t already been on our way in to see Mav, well shit, Scout. Isaac would have had you every which way and then passed you around to his crew. Don’t you understand that?”

“Let go of me,” you ground out, trying and failing to pull your arm free of his grip.

“No,” he stated firmly, eyes set in a determined bid to win this argument. You gave another tug, but his grip didn’t falter.

“You don’t seem to get it, darlin’,” he sneered. “This ain’t Baltimore. People don’t hide their ugly nature behind polite smiles and fancy clothes. People here take, and they sure as shit don’t care who sees them do it."

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself. "Tell me you understand.”

You nodded, still glaring furiously up at him. He shook his head with a wry smile. “Uh uh, sugar. Need to hear you say it.”

“I understand,” you snapped. He finally let you go, and you wrenched your hand back. The two of you stared a beat longer before you heard Benjamin clear his throat.

“I’ll take you home, Scout.”

“No,” you said automatically. “You’re busy. I can see myself home.”

“Not happening,” Jake said. “I’ll walk you home.”

You went to say something, but he fixed a hard stare at you, cutting you off. “Don’t even try to argue with me right now, Scout. I’m taking you home, and that’s final.”

You huffed, turning on your heels and stormed out of the saloon, Jake hot on your tail. The two of you walked in silence, townsfolk casting you wide-eyed looks as you passed. When you reached your front door, you whirled around to face him.

“I’m home,” you spat. “Safe and sound. Are you happy now?”

Jake stared at you, his lips set in a hard line.

“The boys and I were plannin’ on leavin’ for an excursion tomorrow,” he said, “but I think I’ll stick around.”

You scoffed. “If you’re worried about what Isaac said, don’t be. It’s you who should be worried, actually.”

“Oh?” Jake chuckled. “And why is that?”

“I’m only telling you this as a way of thanking you for your help in the barn the other day,” you began, Jake arching an eyebrow at you. “But there’s a U.S. marshal after you and the other Daggers.”

Jake barked out a laugh, and you stared at him in confusion. Jake looked at you with a wide grin. “I ain’t worried about a U.S. marshal, pretty girl.”

“How are you being so cavalier about this?” you snapped, placing your hands on your hips.

“Because they’re always after us,” he shrugged. “Besides, I can take care of myself. You on the other hand-”

“I can take care of myself just as well as you can,” you huffed. All humor dropped from Jake’s face as he gave you a look that said he clearly didn’t believe you. You scowled at him, stalking into the house. He followed you as you marched into the kitchen. You grabbed the rifle that Benjamin insisted you keep by the back door “just in case,” and walked out the back door. Jake kept following, and you stopped just outside on the porch.

“Do you even know how to use that thing?” He chuckled. Wordlessly, you scanned the yard, finding a forgotten bucket sitting on the fencepost about fifty yards away that you must have left out that morning. You raised the rifle to your shoulder, took aim, and-

BANG.

The bucket went flying in the air, a hole where you had hit it dead center. You let the rifle drop from your shoulder as you held it by your side. Turning, you caught the look of shock and intrigue that graced his face.

“He caught me off guard today,” you said. Jake looked at you, wonder shining in his eyes. “He won’t do it again.”

Jake studied you for another moment before nodding his head slowly.

“Alright, Scout,” he relented. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

#so so intense!#heart pounding!#amazing!#love how Nat tries to look out for Scout #Bob helping Penny out is so sweet #isaac can go elsewhere and leave everyone alone #““You wounded my pride Hangman. And what better retribution than taking your woman?””#<- how dare he but also love no one denying that Scout is “Jake's woman”#““The only reason you’re leaving here alive” he rumbled nodding his head over at you “is because she’s here.””#<- swooning he is so sweet #and Jake walking Scout home and seeing her be able to handle the rifle is so good #love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

Text

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Jake flirting, suggestive language, talk of theft, talk of hangings. I think that's it.

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: I know y'all have been begging for it, so here you go! Just a reminder to everyone that my 100 follower celebration is going on through the rest of the weekend, which means my ask box is open for requests of drabbles or just to talk about those fine af Top Gun men! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist

If there was one thing you absolutely hated, it was the heat. You hated how it made you sweat. You hated how it made everything stick to you. Most of all, you hated how you could never seem to find any relief. You mulled over all of this as you stabbed into the dirt beneath your fingers, making a hole just big enough to plant your newly acquired seeds. Hondo had been excited to show you the new variety he had gotten in the previous morning, and you had eagerly purchased multiple packs.

Now, you were covered in dirt, sweat dripping down your brow. You leaned back, tilting your head towards the sky as you wiped your arm across your forehead. Your temples pounded from the exertion, and you were sure most of your hair had come out of the bun you had secured it in that morning.

Your mother had loved gardening, and she would always drag you outside to the small patch of land your father had set aside to do so. She taught you the different names of the flowers she kept and how to tend to the different vegetables.

“They’re just like people, Scout,” she had said with a smile, plucking a ripened tomato from the vine in front of her. She had handed it to you to put in the basket, and you had done so obediently. “Every single plant has different needs, and if those needs aren’t met, the plant can’t flourish.”

You hadn’t understood what she had meant by that, and you still weren’t sure you did as you kneeled on the ground. Sure, different species of plants needed different amounts of things like water or sunlight, but two tomato plants should be treated the exact same way in order to grow. You weren’t much of a gardener, however, but you had taken it upon yourself to continue to do it after she had passed. The thought of nothing growing when your mother had always worked so hard to make sure life was ever plentiful caused a pain in your chest and tears to prickle behind your eyes.

A low whistle caught you off guard, and you jumped. Snapping your head to the far side of the fence that surrounded your tiny garden, was none other than Jake Seresin.

“Well, aren’t you a vision?” he drawled, looking you up and down. You felt a different kind of heat rise on your cheeks as you fixed him with a scowl.

“What do you want, Jake?”

He pushed off from the side of the fence and casually strolled to where you had left the gate propped open. You moved to stand, attempting to brush the dirt off of your skirt in the process.

“Just thought I’d come and see how my best girl was doin’ today,” he said, shooting you a wink. Your lips pursed as you took him in.

“I’m not your girl,” you said finally, taking in the stubble that was starting to grow on his chin. “You need to shave.”

Jake hummed as you pushed past him and towards the barn. “You don’t like it? Martha told me last night while we were down at the saloon that she thought I should grow it out. Said it would make me look rugged.”

“Then grow it out,” you grumbled. “I really don’t care either way.”

Jake came up to your side and fixed you with a mirthful stare. “You don’t have an opinion at all on it?”

“None whatsoever.”

“That’s strange,” he chuckled. “Most girls have an opinion one way or the other. The ones who like their men clean shaven like it ‘cause it gives their men a nice, boy next door kind of charm that’s hard to resist. The ones who like a little growth, though…”

You opened the door to the barn, but Jake stepped in front of you, halting your movement. A sly grin had broken out on his face, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear. He was so close, you could smell the mix of smoke and and fresh linen on his clothes. It was an oddly comforting smell. His lips brushed against your ear and you felt a shudder run up your spine as he said, “they like how it feels against their skin when we’re alone.”

A beat of silence passed between you two before Jake pulled away from you slowly, looking at you with an amused smirk. You scowled up at him before pushing past him and into the barn.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed, moving towards the ladder to the second floor where you kept the hay.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, darlin’,” he laughed as you began to climb the ladder. You looked over at him with a sour look, and he huffed another laugh. “I was talkin’ about whether or not you like your men clean shaven, sweetheart.”

“I really haven’t, Mr. Seresin,” you said as you hoisted yourself up onto the ground of the second floor. Jake followed you up the ladder and stopped when he saw you attempting to pick up a rather large bale of hay. He rushed to your side, grabbing it from your hands and walking over to the edge of the floor.

“I don’t need your help,” you protested. Jake threw the hay down onto the first floor with a loud thump and turned back to look at you with a scowl of his own.

“Yeah, well,” he starts, already moving to grab another bale, “you’re getting it.”

You huffed but allowed him to throw down the second bale. He turned to you as if to ask if he needed to get another one, and you shook your head. He allowed you to move down the ladder first before following suit. Once you two were on the ground floor, you moved to start dispersing the hay amongst the stables for the horses. You heard Jake scoff behind you, and before you could even touch the hay, you felt a pair of hands land on your waist.

“Jake!” you screeched as he picked you up. Turning with you in his arms, he sat you down on the workbench that had been shoved against one of empty stable doors. You moved to stand back up, but Jake shoved you down gently by your shoulders.

“Stay,” he commanded, giving you a look that left no room for argument. You huffed, but complied, watching him as he began to work.

“Does your brother know you’re doing all of this?” he grumbled.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course he does.”

“He hasn’t thought to hire any ranch hands?”

“He’s working on that part,” you mumbled. “Besides, it’s not like there’s much to do around here yet, and I am more than capable of doing it all for the time being.”

“Right,” Jake responded sardonically. “And when you keel over from exhaustion, then what?”

“That won’t happen.”

“Sure it won’t,” he said, throwing the last bit of hay into the final stall. He dusted his hands off and walked over to stand back in front of you. Placing his hands on either side of you, he leaned in so that his warm breath ghosted over your face. A smirk tugged on his lips. “So, do I get some kind of reward for helping you out today?”

“What is it you want?” you asked suspiciously, eyes flickering down to his lips momentarily.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, thumb stroking over the back of your hand where it rested on the table. He leaned in even closer. “I can think of a few things.”

“Don’t,” you said, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. Jake moved away only slightly. “I don’t want people to get the wrong idea.”

“And what kind of idea would that be, pretty girl?” he smirked.

“The kind that can ruin my reputation.”

Jake scoffed out a laugh, and you frowned. “I’m serious, Jake. A woman’s reputation is all she has in this world.”

Jake studied you for a second. “I think you have more to offer this world than just your reputation, sweet girl.”

“Yes, well,” you stumbled, feeling your cheeks flush yet again from the intensity of his gaze. “You would be one of the few people to think so.”

“That’s a cryin’ shame,” he murmured, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered, almost cupping your cheek as he stared at you. He really was so unfairly handsome.

“You should go,” you whispered, eyes darting between his own.

Jake stroked your cheek slowly. “Yeah? You sure you don’t want me to stay.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, almost breathlessly. Clearing your throat and shaking your head in an attempt to clear it, you said more firmly, “I mean, yes. I need to get ready for dinner at Maverick’s tonight.”

Jake gave one last stroke of his thumb to your cheek before pulling away completely. He fixed you with a mischievous grin. “Need any help getting ready?”

“Jake.”

“I’m only teasin’, pretty girl,” he laughed, already moving to leave the barn. Looking over his shoulder and back at you, he gave you one last wink. “Don’t be a stranger, Scout.”

Maverick and Penny’s home was humble, but no less spacious than your own. Maverick was a kind man with an air of assuredness about him that put any of your worries about your brother’s ranch at ease.

“I’ll help him every step of the way, y/n,” he said with a smile.

“Please, Maverick,” you had smiled back, “call me Scout.”

Two other men had joined your group for dinner that night - Sheriff Tom “Iceman” Kazansky and U.S. Marshal Beau “Cyclone” Simpson. Sheriff Kazansky was a quiet man, and you learned that he and Maverick had a friendship that spanned back decades.

“I wasn’t going to let this scoundrel found a town without someone there to make sure it didn’t all go to hell,” the sheriff had laughed. Maverick had rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at his old friend.

“I was a bit of a wild card back in those days,” he admitted.

“‘A bit’ is the understatement of the century,” laughed Kazansky before launching into a story about the time Maverick had taken it upon himself to go bull riding.

“So,” Penny had started once the laughter had died down. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your company tonight, Mr. Simpson?”

The marshal finished chewing his food before answering. “Well, ma’am. I’ve been tasked with rounding up a group of wanted outlaws that have started making a name for themselves out here in the western territories.”

“Oh?” Maverick questioned, eyebrows shooting up on his forehead.

“Yes,” Simpson continued. “A group calling themselves “the Daggers,” in fact.”

You felt your blood run cold. Taking a steadying breath, you spoke up. “The Daggers, marshal?”

“Yes, miss. They’ve stirred up quite the ruckus over the past couple of years. They robbed a bank about a hundred miles north of here just a few months ago.”

“Really?” you breathed, setting your fork down. Simpson offered you a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure you have nothing to worry about, miss,” he said. “We’ll have in custody in no time.”

“So, what brings you here to our small town?” prodded Kazansky, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, the word is that this town is where they like to come and set up shop. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“If I did,” the sheriff smirked, “you’d be the first to know.”

“What do you plan on doing when you catch them?” you asked.

“We’re going to hang’em,” Simpson answered plainly. Your heart stopped, and you felt your eyes grow wide before you could stop them. You heard Penny’s breath catch and Maverick became eerily still as you all stared at the marshal.

Mr. Simpson, to his credit, seemed to grow uncomfortable at the sudden change in atmosphere. With a clear of his throat, the marshal stood and offered Penny a smile. “This was a mighty fine meal, ma’am, but I’m afraid I’ve got some work I need to be getting back to.”

“Of course,” Penny smiled. With a nod to the table, Beau Simpson turned and walked out of the house.

Maverick groaned, resting his face in his hands. “I’m going to kill those kids.”

“Pete,” Penny started, but he shook his head.

“I can’t keep bailing them out, Penny. I don’t know how many more favors I can call in.”

“I might have a few,” grumbled Kazansky. “But nothin’ I can guarantee.”

You gulped. “How many times have you had to rescue them?”

Maverick bit out a humorless laugh as Kazansky grimaced next to him.

“Enough times to where that’s how Jake earned the nickname ‘Hangman,’” Maverick stated, casting you a solemn look. You felt the color drain from your face. You weren’t sure why this whole situation made you feel sick. Perhaps it was due to the mentions of the gallows. You had seen hangings before, and you never understood the amusement people got from going to watch them. You found them horrible, feeling nauseous at the memories of the bodies as they writhed in the air.

“Are you alright, Scout?” Penny asked quietly, noticing the change in your demeanor. You took a deep breath and offered her a small smile.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you replied, turning to look back at Maverick who continued talking.

“That boy has been on the business end of a rope more times than I can count. I keep tellin’ him to keep his nose out of where it doesn’t belong, but does he listen to me?” he asked with a shake of his head.

“Maybe he just needs something to help keep him grounded and out of trouble,” Benjamin offered.

“Something,” Penny hummed, casting you a knowing glance, “or someone?”

Sheriff Kazansky let out a booming laugh as Maverick chuckled at his wife’s suggestion. “The day Jake Seresin hangs up his womanizing ways is the day I eat my hat,” he said, tone filled with mirth. Penny smiled knowingly.

“Would you like it stewed or fried, honey?”

“I’ll let the chef decide,” Maverick had scoffed. Penny looked like she was going to say something else, but you cut her off.

“Maverick, I wanted to talk to you about the children in this town.”

“What about’em?” he smiled.

“Well,” you started, “I noticed that they seem to be running around town all hours of the day. Shouldn’t they be in school?”

Maverick grimaced. “Yes, they should, but unfortunately we don’t have a schoolhouse, and we don’t have anyone who knows the first thing about teaching.”

“I see,” you murmured. Maverick offered you another smile.

“I promise, we’re working on it. Have you thought about teaching?”

“Goodness, no,” you laughed with a shake of your head. “I don’t think I’d have the patience for it.”

“That’s a shame,” he replied. “Well, I’ll guess we’ll keep lookin’ then.”

The rest of dinner passed by quickly, and before you knew it, both you and Benjamin were bidding farewell to the older couple.

“Come by anytime, you hear?” Penny called after you as you made your way home. Benjamin wished you a good night before retiring to his room, and for the first time that evening, you were left alone with your thoughts. You washed your face in the basin you kept in your room before quickly changing into your night dress. You cracked the window open in hopes that the cool, night breeze would offer your heated skin some relief. You snuffed out your candle and moved to lay in bed. Staring up at your ceiling, you couldn’t help but to think back to the conversation with Marshal Simpson. You thought about the things he said Jake and his friends had done.

“That man,” you growled to yourself. “That stupid, stupid man.”

You thought of how infuriating said man could be with his attempts at flirting, his snarky comments, his broad chest, his surprisingly soft fingers that held your cheek oh so gently…

You felt a burst of warmth pool in your stomach as you thought about how soft his lips had been on the shell of your ear, and how rough his stubble would feel pressed against your-

“Stop it,” you hissed at yourself, placing your pillow over your face and yelling into it. You laid there for a second, willing your thoughts to stop focusing on the man you were sure you hated more than anything. He was a scoundrel, after all. You placed your pillow back in its original position, closing your eyes with a deep breath. Sleep soon found you, dreams filled with green eyes and quiet sighs of your name falling from his lips.

#so great!#love the gardening #““I don’t need your help” you protested.” ““Yeah well” he starts already moving to grab another bale “you’re getting it.””#<- how gallant haha #““I think you have more to offer this world than just your reputation sweet girl.””#<- heartmelting!#love Sheriff Tom “Iceman” Kazansky #love U.S. Marshal Beau “Cyclone” Simpson and the threat he is to the Daggers #love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

Text

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Two

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Language, Jake flirting, nothing else really.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: So, I lied. Here's another update for you all. Feel like the quality might have dropped off a little halfway since I wrote the last half on my phone at work lol I'm not sure yet if I'll have anything to post tomorrow as I work weird hours, but here's hoping! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. My inbox is always open to chat. 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Well, this is it,” Benjamin proclaimed proudly. You looked at the house before you. It was a large, two story home with freshly painted white walls and matching white picket fence surrounding the yard. A chimney was built on both sides of the house, and a giant porch hugged the front as well as the second floor. A barn sat further down the path that led to your new home, and a simple wooden fence stretched even further.

“It’s beautiful, Benji,” you started, “but how much land did you purchase?”

Benjamin rubbed his neck sheepishly. “About one thousand acres.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “One thousand acres? Benji!”

“Hear me out, Scout,” he pleaded. “The cattle we raise will bring in even more money. We can establish a legacy here!”

“We already had a legacy,” you muttered, and Benjamin fixed you with soft, pleading eyes. You sighed. “You don’t even know the first thing about raising cattle.”

He perked up. “Oh, Maverick said he’d teach me all I need to know. Even made suggestions on who to hire as ranch hands when the time comes. He’s the one that convinced me to seek out my fortunes.”

“Was he now?” you murmured, already plotting what you were going to say to the town’s founder when you met him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Benjamin, and you glanced up at him. “But this will be good for us, Scout. We’ll be a part of history and expanding our country. Making it better.”

You hummed, and he continued with a sigh. “The truth is, Scout, my firm isn’t making as much money as I had hoped out here. Ranching will help bolster our income until I can become more established in these parts.”

You sighed, knowing there wasn’t much you could say in argument. Instead, you turned back to look at the house, shadows growing darker as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. “Let’s go then. I’m eager to see the new house.”

Benjamin practically skipped up to the house, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside. It was much grander than you were expecting. Wooden floors gave way to a grand staircase that turned into the next floor. You made your way through one of the archways and found yourself in the parlor. Your familiy’s furniture already decorate the room, and you brushed your fingers gently over the top of the grand piano in the corner. Continuing, you found yourself standing in a large kitchen, one of the fireplaces taking up a large portion of the far wall.

“If you’re hungry, I think Natasha left some stew for us,” Benjamin, striding over to where a pot hung above the small fire. You raised an eyebrow, barely containing your smirk.

“Does Natasha cook for you often?”

You saw a blush creep its way onto your brother’s face as he straightened up to look at you with a small pout. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

You chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing, Benji. But, no. I’m not hungry at the moment. I’d much rather get some rest after my long day of travel.”

Benjamin nodded and led you up the stairs. He stopped in front of the second door on the right, opening it and gesturing for you to step inside. Doing so, you saw your familiar pieces of furniture that you had shipped off weeks ago. Your hand mirror sat on your vanity, and your wardrobe door was opened to reveal your more practical, every day use dresses. You walked further into the room and up to the window. Peering out, you could faintly make out the barn and rolling desert in the sprawling darkness. If you looked harder, you could faintly see the outline of the distant mountains. Turning back to face your brother, you offered a smile.

“It’s lovely, Benji. Thank you.”

Benjamin returned your smile and gestured down the hall. “My room is two down if you need me for anything.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening. Go on,” you waved him off. “You need your sleep just as much as I do.

“Before I forget, Maverick has invited us to dinner with him and his wife, Penny, the night after next,” he said. You nodded, letting him know that you had heard.With one last smile, Benjamin closed the door behind him.

“Benji, have you gone shopping for supplies at all, or do you send poor Natasha out to do your tasks?” you cluckled impatiently, finding nothing but a stale loaf of bread in the pantry. You had managed to collect the eggs from the chicken coop earlier that morning, and that was all that made up you and your brother’s meager breakfast.

“I haven’t the time, Scout,” he mumbled, already gathering his things for the day. “Besides, you know I’m not much of a cook.”

“How you’ve survived this long, I’ll never understand,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Benjamin looked at you with a twinkle in his eye.

“Eye rolling is not becoming of a proper young lady,” he snickered. Scowling you made to whip him with the towel you held in your hand.

“Go, before you’re late,” you hollered as he rushed out the door. Sighing, you made a mental note to teach him at least some of the basics in the upcoming days. Turning, you marchd back into the pantry and looked at the empty shelves disdainfully with hand on your hips.

“Honestly,” you muttered, exasperated at how incompetent your brother seemed at doing the most basic of things. You made a list of things you would need in the upcoming days, and walked out to take another look at the house. As much as your brother could fumble on the small things, he did have an eye for home decor. There were very few pieces of furniture you wanted to move around across the whole house, and you made another mental note to let Benjamin know that evening when he returned.

Walking out the front door with a basket in hand for your supplies, your eyes were drawn to a small patch of the front yard that had been fenced off. How you hadn’t noticed it the night before was beyond you, and you chose to chalk it up to fatigue from your journey. You walked over and saw several gardening tools scattered along the ground. You realized this must have been the garden Benjamin had mentioned yesterday to you in his excitement.You added seeds to your list of supplies for the day.

You turned away from the garden and made sure to latch the gate to your front yard securely before strolling down the path into town.

Today was much like yesterday had been. People walking up and down the streets, shouting at one another in greeting, and children still running about. You wondered why they weren’t in school at this time of day. You resolved yourself to asking Maverick about it the next evening at dinner. Turning down on to the main street, you stepped onto the porch of the general store. Across the street at the saloon, you saw a group of men gathered by the enterance. One of them turned and saw you, and you supressed an eye roll when he lout out a long whistle.

“Hey there, darlin’!” he called out to you. He was handsome, you’d give him that. His dark skin glowed in the sunlight and you could make out his white smile from across the road. Strong muscles were hidden by his simple, white cotton shirt and beige wool pants. A hat covered his short, dark hair. Choosing to ignore the stranger, and by extension his four companions who had turned to look your way, you walked into the general store. the owner greeted you as you stepped into the spacious room that housed a multitude of goods from different places.

“Howdy, miss!” He chirped, leaning against the counter with a smile. He was older, dark skin weathered. “Haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. The name’s Hondo.”

You returned his smile warmly. “A pleasure, Hondo. My name is y/n. My brother is Benjamin, perhaps you know him? He runs the firm just down the road.”

“Ah, yes!” He chuckled. “The lawyer from Baltimore. Well, miss, you’re in luck! I’ve just gotten back from Independence with new goods and wears! If you’re looking more in the ways of sugar and molasses, i’m afraid you’ll have to wait until my partner, Joel, arrives back in town. Should be any day now, in fact.”

“I see, and what is that you have today?” You inquired, taking in the multitudes of crates still scattered around the counter.

“Let’s see,” Hondo thought. “I got some salt and some fine new tools from St.Louis. I also managed to trade for some fresh produce down by Independence.”

“That sounds lovely,” you smiled as Hondo began showing you his wears.

You spent about a half hour picking out the best produce Hondo had to offer, making plans to return when his partner made it back into town.

“Hondo, I don’t suppose you have anything in the way of cooking wine?” You asked, placing your new wears into your basket. Hondo grimaced with a shake of his head.

“'Fraid not, miss.” He sighed, looking out past his door towards the tavern. “But Miss Penny should have somethin’ for you to use.”

“Maverick’s wife?” You asked, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. Hondo nodded, a look if worry on his face.

“Penny runs the saloon here in town. Normally, I wouldn’t even suggest you go ‘round that place without someone accompanyin’ you, but everyone here knows not to mess with Miss Penny. You should be safe while she’s there.”

You handed Hondo the money you owed him, and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m sure I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Just be careful who you talk to when you’re over there, ya hear?” He called after you as you moved to leave. “A lot of real unsavory types like to prey on pretty, littke things like you!”

“I will!” You called over your shoulder. You looked across the street to see the group of men from earlier had migrated down the porch over to, you assumed, their horses. Making sure they were safely distracted, you hurried your way across the road. Trotting up the steps, you made it to the door just as the group turned around to see you. Before they could say anything, however, you marched confidently into the saloon.

You weren’t sure what you had been expecting, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had thought, considering Hondo’s warning. The enterior looked a tad run down, but you supposed it had been in business for a while. It was clear that it was a beauty back in its debut. A piano was shoved against the far wall and several tables were scattered across the room with a few patrons nursing different liquids. A woman came out of a back room and spotted you. She was one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. Dark hair framed a slender face, and bright eyes looked at you with a maternal warmth you hadn’t seen in quite a while.

“Hey there, sweetheart!” She called to you. “What is it that I can getcha?”

“Hi,” you smiled, walking closer to the counter where she leaned. You could feel the stares from the other patrons on your back, and you couldn’t help but stiffen.

“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” she started, casting a stern look across the room. “No one here’ll mess with you while I’m here. Name’s Penny.”

You held out your hand when you were close enough to the bar to reach her. “I’m y/n. It’s a pleasure.”

“You must be Benjamin’s sister. You two look so much alike, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner,” she laughed, the lines on her face crinkling. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would look as beautiful as she did when you were her age. She took your hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“We get that quite a bit, actually,” you chuckled, dropping your hand back down to your side.

Penny’s smile grew wider. “So, how can I help you today?”

“I’m looking for some cooking wine. Hondo mentioned you might be able to help me find some.”

“Cooking wine, huh?” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. After a moment, she nodded, turning to head back into the back room. “Yeah, I think I just got some new bottles in, actually.”

You waited while she disappeared through the door. You heard the group of men outside on the porch, and it sounded like they had moved back towards the entrance. You let out a heavy sigh, realizing that you wouldn’t be able to avoid them forever. You took a closer look at the saloon. A set of stairs led up to a second floor that must double as an inn of sorts. Your brother had told you that's where he stayed while your home was being built.

“The townsfolk here are all kind as saints here, Scout,” he had written to you in one of his many letters. He hadn’t been wrong, well, save for one person. You frowned at the memory of the tall blond and his debonair smile. The outlaw probably wooed many girls with those good looks and charming words. You would not be fooled.

At that moment, Penny appeared back around the corner with two bottles of wine and another warm smile. You took the bottles from her gratefully, and slipped them into your basket.

“How much do I owe you?” you ask, but Penny shakes her head.

“No charge,” she says. “Call it a ‘welcome to town’ gift.”

“Thank you,” you respond. You hear the group outside laugh, and you can’t stop the slight frown from etching itself onto your face. Penny notices, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Those boys may be loud and rowdy,” she begins, “but they’re harmless. I promise. Just walk out of here with your head held high, and if they start to give you trouble, you call for me. I’ll knock their heads together.”

You nodded your head. You made your way back to the swinging doors, but stopped just shy. You willed your nerves to settle, and straightening your shoulders, you marched as confidently as you could out of the saloon.

The men were all gathered around the steps, and their conversation stopped when you stepped out. You could see them all more clearly now, and to your dismay, they were all unfairly handsome.

“Hey there again, darlin’,” grinned the man from before. He leaned in closer to you with grin. “Name’s Javy. What’s yours?”

“Coyote, you asshole,” snapped the man to his left. “Tell her our names, too!”

Javy—Coyote—rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath that you didn’t catch.

“These here are my compadres, Bradley, Bob, Mickey, and Reuben,” he said, gesturing to each man as he said their name. He turned back to you with a smirk. “Now what about yours?”

At that moment, the saloon doors swung open, and a familiar blond strolled out with a hard set look on his face. His eyes darted from the group of men before you down to yours, and his grumpy expression melted into a lascivious smirk.

“Did you get it?” Asked the man off to your right, Bradley. Jake spared him a glance before returning his eyes to you.

“‘Course I did, Rooster,” he replied, walking closer to you. You gripped your basket harder and fixed him with a glare. “Fancy seeing you here, Scout.”

Rooster? You realized now that the Dagger Posse is who stood before you, and you suddenly found yourself feeling weary.

“Mr. Seresin,” you replied curtly, turning his smirk into a full blown grin.

“C’mon now, Scout. I thought we decided you’d call me Jake?”

“I don’t recall that being how the conversation went,” you sniffed. Navy cleared his throat from where he stood from behind you. You both looked over to find him and the rest of the squad grinning. Well, Bradley was smirking. The others were grinning.

“Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night, Hangman?” Bradley-Rooster-asked, humor evident in his voice. You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks. Ignoring his friends, he looked back at you, some of his bravado returning.

“Ignore my friends,” he said, smile returning. “They don't know when to shut up.”

You hummed, “I could say the same thing about you.”

You heard a couple of snickers from behind you, and Jake cast a glare over your shoulder. Looking back at you, he continued, “Now, sugar. That wasn’t very nice. I’ve been plenty nice to you.”

You let out a noise of derision. “You and I must have very different definitions of the word ‘nice,’ Mr. Seresin.”

“If you let me,” he smirked, leaning closer so that his breath fanned over your face. Your eyes widened and your heart stopped for a brief moment at his proximity. “I could show you all the ways I can be nice.”

You didn’t respond for a moment, lost in the emeralds of his eyes. Blinking, you murmured, “Not a chance.”

You turned to the group behind you, offering them a tight lipped smile. “It was a pleasure to meet you all.”

“I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of you in the near future, sweetheart,” grinned Javy.

“Yes, well,” you smiled politely, “let’s hope not.”

You pushed past them and began making your way down the road. A hand gripped your elbow, spinning you back around so that you crashed into a solid chest of muscle. Looking up, stunned, you were once again in close proximity of Jake Seresin.

“Let me give you a ride home,” he offered, gesturing back at Whiskey. You shook your head, placing a hand on his chest to try and put some kind of barrier between the two of you. Jake took your hand in his, squeezing it tight.

“That's not necessary,” you breathed. “I live just down the road.”

“Then let me walk you,” he pushed.

“Down the street?” You snorted. Jake grinned, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“A lot could happen between now and when you get home.”

“Goodbye, Jake,” you said with a pointed look, pulling away from him. You tried not to frown at how cold you felt without his presence next to you. You turned to walk away.

“I’ll wear you down one day, sugar! You’ll be in love with me before you know it,” He calls after you. You stop in your tracks, whirling around to fix him with your iciest glare.

“I am not something to be conquered,” you hissed. Jake stared at you for a long minute, a different kind of smile creeped onto his face. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said this one was almost…affectionate.

“I don’t expect you to be,” he said finally, giving you a two finger salute. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Scout.”

#so good!#““Does Natasha cook for you often?””#<- love these glances at Nat and Benjamin's relationship!#love Hondo #always love Penny #love the introduction to the Daggers #““Is this the little spitfire you were goin’ on and and on about last night Hangman?” Bradley-Rooster-asked humor evident in his voice.”#“You glanced over at Jake who had a dusting of pink spreading across his cheeks.”“#<- so sweet!#love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Language, reader being a tad bougie, flirty Jake, ogling men, use of y/n...I think that's it for this one?

Word Count: 2.95k

A/N: Here it is! Chapter One! I hope you all enjoy reading this! As always, likes and reblogs are very much welcome as I crave validation. And again, this blog is 18+!! You are responsible for your own reading! You can also find this story on AO3 written under sailor_aviator!

Series Masterlist

People bustled about the small town as your carriage passed by. Children ran ahead of their parents, men stumbled out of what could only be the local tavern, and women dressed entirely too scantily waved at anyone who passes by. Frowning, you sat back in your seat, once again contemplating how you ended up in this situation. Peering out the window, you looked up to see a tall, wooden building painted in a fresh coat of white paint. Blue shutters hugged the windows along the walls, and a wooden sign with your family’s name hung just past the set of stairs. Most importantly, a tall man stood at the base of the steps, grinning from ear to ear.

A grin of your own broke out and the carriage had barely stopped before you’re throwing the door open and practically flinging yourself out and into the arms of the man before you.

“Benji!” you exclaimed with a laugh, hugging your brother tightly. He reciprocated with a chuckle, resting his cheek on top of your head.

“It’s good to see you too, Scout.”

It had been months since you had seen your brother. Benjamin had insisted on moving out west before you in order to get things settled. You were to stay home and oversee that your family’s heirlooms were shipped safely to your new home. That had been six months ago, and now here he stood before you, still clean shaven, but he had definitely developed a golden complexion during his time in the town of Maverick. Pursing your lips, you look up at him.

“Benjamin, how much time have you spent in the sun these past months?” you scolded. He had the decency to appear ashamed as he ducked his head down, offering you a sheepish smile.

“Longer than you would approve of, I’m sure y/n. But, the house needed seeing to and land was not going to till itself,” he smirked, taking your arm in his and walking up the steps of the building.

“The house?” you inquired with a raise of your eyebrow. Benjamin nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Oh, Scout. You’re going to love it! It’s a grand old thing. The furniture has already been placed, but of course you’re more than welcome to rearrange. I’ve even set aside a small plot by the side of the house for you to garden.”

“You have?” you asked as you walked into the building. A parlor of sorts greeted you with newly made furniture and various pieces of artwork hanging on the walls. A door opened up into the hallway that held, what you assumed, the offices for the firm.

“Oh, Benji,” you breathed, placing a hand over your heart. “Daddy would be so proud of this place.”

Benjamin’s chest puffed up in pride as he led you down the hall and into his office. You passed a woman who came out of the office closest to the door. She was beautiful with her dark hair pulled back and blue dress perfectly complimenting her complexion. She offered you a smile and then looked expectantly at your brother.

“Benjamin,” she began, “aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Of course,” chuckled Benjamin. “Y/n, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is my younger sister, y/n.”

“Please, call me Phoenix,” she said, offering you a hand. You took it and gave it a firm shake. “A pleasure, Phoenix.”

“Your brother has been so excited to see you. All he ever does is talk about you! I feel like I’ve already known you for years,” she teased, causing your brother to blush. You chuckled and drop your hand back to your side.

“I know the feeling. He’s gone on and on about the ‘remarkable, young woman who I’ve had the great pleasure of taking on as my new secretary.’”

“Must you two tease me so?” Benjamin groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“I have work I need to return to anyway,” laughed Phoenix, already turning to head back to the entrance. “Don’t be a stranger now, y/n.”

“She seems nice,” you said to your brother once Phoenix had rounded the corner. Putting a hand on your back, Benjamin guided you into his office, taking the chair opposite you as you both sat down.

“She certainly keeps things interesting around here,” he laughed. You scoffed, thinking back to your earlier conversation with your driver.

“As if things need to be more interesting around here,” you muttered. Benjamin gave you a perplexed look, and you sighed.

“I know all about that…Dagger posse, Benji. Outlaws running about? Honestly, I don’t know how I let you talk me into coming here.”

“The Daggers are nothing to be concerned about,” he started, stopping when you shot him a skeptical look. Sighing, he continued, “They don’t usually cause trouble for those in town. Maverick has a sort of…truce with them.”

“Usually?” you questioned, still not convinced.

“There have been the odd occasions,” he stated slowly, seeming to pick his words carefully. “Usually when the odd person in town picks a fight or one of them gets too rowdy at the tavern. It’s nothing to concern yourself with, Scout. Really.”

“If you say so,” you relented, dropping the subject and looking out the window. Benjamin sighed in relief, and the pair of you sat in silence for a moment.

“I really am glad you’re here, Scout,” he said softly. Turning to meet your brother’s gaze, you saw the familiar fondness in them that you had missed the past six months. Benjamin was eight years your senior, and had declared himself as your protector from the second you were born. He had been one of the many constants in your life, and now he seemed to be the only one left.

Sighing, you replied, “You’ll have a lot more convincing to do in order to make me decided that this was a good idea.”

Benjamin cracked a smile, and placed his feet on his desk, leaning further back in his chair.

“I’m willing to do that,” he grinned.

“Get your feet off the desk, Benji,” you scowled. “We’re still civilized even if we’re living in the middle of nowhere.”

Ignoring you, Benjamin reached down to open a drawer, pulling out a packet of paper. Dropping the large stack onto the desk with a loud bang, he looked back up at you with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

“I’d love nothing more than for you to keep me company, Scout, but I still have paperwork I need to do before I’m finished for the day. If you’d like, you can sit here while I get it done, or you can get acquainted with the town you’ll be calling home.”

“Without an escort?” you spluttered, eyes widening in shock. Benjamin let out a hearty laugh, his head falling back as his shoulders shook.

“Welcome to the west, baby sister.”

You walked slowly down the dirt road that ran through the center of the bustling town. Each building is painted a different, bright color which made it easier to distinguish which business was which. A group of young boys suddenly ran in front of you, nearly knocking you to the ground. Stumbling back a few steps, you managed to regain your footing as the boys shouted an apology back at you from over their shoulders. Looking after them with a bemused look on your face, you felt a chill run up your spine as you hear a low chuckle from the porch of one of the buildings. Glancing up, you see two older men leering at you. Both missing several teeth and covered in layers of dirt, you suppressed a shudder as one of them gives you a gummy grin. Smiling politely, you quickly made your way down the road.

The sun was starting to set, and a chill now settled in the air. A stark contrast from the heat of that morning. Slowing to a stop, you watched as several men went around lighting the lanterns outside of their businesses and along the streets. At least some things were reminiscent of home.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the large figure walk up behind you. You jumped when said large figure bumps into your back. You spun around to come face to face with a beautiful, buckskin stallion. Placing a hand on your chest and letting out a sigh of relief, you gave a half hearted glare to the horse before you.

“You scared me,” you griped, earning an ear flick from the stallion. Turning to face the creature fully, you placed your hand gently on its snout, stroking lightly.

“My, aren’t you a pretty thing?” you cooed. The horse swung his head up and down as if nodding in agreement. You giggled, moving your hand to stroke his neck as he nuzzled into your hand.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have anything for you,” you laughed, earning another ear flick. You wondered how long he had been left out here. The reins attached to his bridle were tied around a post along with three other horses who paid you no mind. Humming, you look into his eyes.

“You know,” you began thoughtfully, “it wasn’t even my idea to move here. I left all of my friends back in Baltimore. I would go to parties in the evening and go for a stroll in the park the next day. There’s none of that here, I’m sure. What even is there to do?”

The horse moved closer, pushing his head into your arms.

“Perhaps you’ll be my friend,” you mused. The horse lets out a snort and you laugh out a breath, smiling softly. Your father had loved horses, and he had made sure to pass on that love to his children. Many happy memories were made riding along the countryside of your family’s country home.

“You’re right,” you relented, “I doubt I’ll be seeing much of you after tonight.”

You continued to stroke the horse’s neck, murmuring soft praises as the large beast seemed to bask in the attention.

“Well, darlin’. There must be something special about you, huh?” came a male voice from behind you. You whipped around just as a sturdy body leans against the post. He was unbelievably handsome. Gold hair complimented golden skin, and green eyes held twinkles of mirth and mischief with a smirk to match. He wore a simple, white cotton shirt with a brown vest and wool pants. His boots and the blue bandana tied around his neck looked a little worse for wear. You blink as you realize that you’ve been staring for longer than would be deemed appropriate.

“I’m sorry?” you questioned, still caught in a daze at the beautiful man before you. You didn’t even think men like him existed in this part of the world. The man gestured to the horse you were still cuddled up by.

“Whiskey here doesn’t warm up to just anyone,” he grinned, resting a hand next to yours. “In fact, he doesn’t like much of anyone accept me.”

You didn’t answer, not sure how to respond. Instead, you turned your attention back to Whiskey who was attempting to nibble at the strands of hair that had fallen out of your updo. Giggling lightly, you pushed the horse away and take a half step back.

The man took a half step closer to you, the grin having given way to a salacious smirk. “I haven’t seen you ‘round these parts before. You new in town?”

“Yes,” you answered politely. “I just arrived here.”

“Figured,” he chuckled. “I would have remembered seeing someone as pretty as you walkin’ around.”

You blushed, suddenly unable to maintain eye contact. This seemed to embolden the stranger.

“So, sugar,” he started, “how much for your debut?”

You looked at him with eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

Chuckling, he continued. “How much is it going to cost me to have you in my bed for the hour?”

Surely you had misheard him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“C’mon, honey. It’ll be worth your while,” he smirked, running his eyes up and down your form. “Promise it’ll be good for you too. Hell, I’ll even pay for the night.”

You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and in a most completely undignified manner, you began to splutter, trying to maintain your sense of calm while feeling a red hot wave of rage overtake you.

“How dare you!” you shrieked. You saw the smirk on the stranger’s face falter. Good.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“The matter,” you seethed, “is that you have just assumed that I am some woman of ill repute, sir.”

He paused, studying you. “Well, I just figured since you were dressed up so pretty, it must have been to draw in customers.”

“I’m not a whore!” you shouted, drawing looks from passersby. The man held up his hands in surrender. In any other situation it would have been almost comical how frightened he seemed of you considering how he towered over you.

“My sincerest apologies, miss,” he offered, trying to hold back a grin. You turned to walk back towards your brother’s firm with a scowl. Stopping, you peered over your shoulder, fixing the stranger with another glare.

“I would advise you, Mr…?”

“Seresin. Jake Seresin.”

“Mr. Seresin,” you breathed. “I would advise you to not make such horrible assumptions next time you come across a woman you don’t know.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you continued walking. You hadn’t made it ten steps before a shadow blocks the last remaining rays of the sun from your field of view.

“What are you doing, Mr. Seresin?”

“Call me Jake,” he smirked. You frowned up at him, stopping in your tracks to face him.

“I most certainly will not,” you huffed. “Now answer my question.”

Jake stared at you for what felt like entirely too long, and you started to fidget under his gaze.

“Well, since I accidentally insulted you,” he cocked his head at your glare, “I figured the least I could do is walk you to wherever it is you’re going.”

“While I appreciate the gesture,” you said with gritted teeth and a polite smile, “that is entirely unnecessary.”

“Nonsense,” Jake chirped, “what kind of gentleman would I be if I allowed a beautiful young lady to walk around unescorted through town?”

You gave him a dubious look which only caused the smirk on his face to grow into a full blown grin. Huffing once more, you turned back towards the path and began walking. Jake slid up to your side smoothly and offered you his arm. You scoffed at him, and he raised his eyebrows. Scowling, you took his arm and tried your damndest to ignore the obnoxious grin on your companion’s face. It took you only minutes to arrive back at the firm, and you turned to face Jake who glanced from the firm back to you.

“The lawyer?” he questioned, an unreadable expression on his face.

“Yes,” you stated simply, stepping away from him to put some distance between the two of you. Jake crossed his arms and stared up at the building.

“You come here to join your fiancé?” he asked, tone even and face still unreadable.

Surely he wasn’t... “Are you jealous, Mr. Seresin?”

Jake looked at you then, jaw set and green eyes ablaze. “Answer the question, darlin’.”

You shook your head. “No. I’m not even engaged. Benjamin is my brother.”

He seemed to relax at that. He gave you another look that you couldn’t quite place before shifting back to his now familiar smirk.

“I don’t think I got the pleasure of your name, sugar.”

“I highly doubt you’ll need it,” you stated simply. He raised an eyebrow.

“And why is that?”

“Because I don’t believe our paths will cross again, Jake,” you said, lips curling in a small smile.

“Ah, that’s no fair, darlin’. All I want to know is your name,” he grinned, leaning in so close that you could feel his breath fan across your face. Your own breath catches as you locked eyes with him.

“Just my name?” you whispered. He nods.

“Just your name.”

At that moment, your brother and Phoenix chose to walk out the door, stopping in their tracks at the sight before them.

“Scout?” Benjamin said hesitantly at the same time Phoenix said your name. Jake’s eyes shifted to the pair, and that smirk settled on his face once more. His eyes flickered back to you as he leaned away and you found that you were able to breathe normally once again.

“Y/n, huh?” he chuckled. Then he cocked his head and gave you a mirthful look. “Or is it Scout?”

“It’s neither to you,” you scowled, causing him to let out another laugh.

Benjamin walked quickly down the steps and down to your side where he leveled Jake with a stare.

“How can we be of service, Hangman?” he asked tensely, and you looked up at him with a puzzled expression. Hangman? But that was the name of…

Your head whipped back around to look at Jake who just grinned at your brother before shooting you a wink.

“Just escorting your sister back to your door, Benjamin. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, would we?” he grins, not taking his eyes off of you. Benjamin stiffened beside you.

“Yes, well,” he began, “thank you, Hangman. It’s greatly appreciated.”

“Anytime,” replied Jake, already turning to walk back. He gave you another wink. “I’ll be seeing you around then, Scout.”

And with that, he turned on his heels and walked away. The three of you watched him walk away in silence. What on earth had just happened?

#so so great!#love the introduction to the town!#““Whiskey here doesn’t warm up to just anyone” he grinned resting a hand next to yours. “In fact he doesn’t like much of anyone accept me.””#<- love horses who signal how special someone is #you could say this trope is *special* to me...#joke over #i seriously love Whiskey!#““Anytime” replied Jake already turning to walk back. He gave you another wink. “I’ll be seeing you around then Scout.””#<- of course he uses the nickname #love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Prologue

Don’t Hang'em Til Noon: Prologue

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader

Summary: Jake “Hangman” Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Mentions of parent deaths, swearing, no Dagger members yet, but they’re mentioned, use of y/n. I think that might be it?

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! Let me know what you all think! Should I continue? 18+ ONLY!! This work is also being published on AO3 under the username sailor_aviator.

Series Masterlist

The carriage did very little to quell the seemingly never ending heat of the western territories. In fact, you were fairly sure it was making it worse. You had long given up on attempting to read the many books you had packed - the heat coupled with the constant jostling from the dirt path causing you to nearly lose the contents of your stomach on multiple occasions. Why your brother thought he would try his hand at settling the expansive west, you’d never understand.

Your brother, Benjamin, wasn’t an impulsive, reckless man. No, quite the opposite actually. He had done well for himself back home in Maryland at your father’s law firm. One of the best law firms in the state, perhaps even the entire eastern seaboard. Your great-grandfather had founded the firm, and it was your brother who inherited the family’s legacy when your father had passed only a year prior.

You let out a long sigh, still trying in vain to cool yourself down with your prized folded fan. It had been a gift from your mother on your sixteenth birthday, and it was one of the few things you had left of her now. Your father had been thrown into the depths of despair when she died - the doctor’s had said it was consumption. It was a miracle, really, that none of you had contracted it. Your father had withdrawn after her death, and your brother had been left to pick up the slack as a result. Thankfully, he had already been regarded as a respectable lawyer at the time. So it had thrown you for a loop when he announced one night at dinner that he was moving his practice out west.

You had had been completely against the idea, of course. Why wouldn’t you be? Your whole life was spent amongst polite society in Baltimore. Your friends were there. You had interests there. Your parents were buried there.

“We’ll make happier memories, y/n,” Benjamin had said with a soft smile. “We’ll have a fresh start there. What do you say, Scout?”

Of course, when he called you by your childhood nickname, it was hard to ignore the pull on your heart. You had earned that nickname before you had even hit double digits. Your father was an avid hunter, and despite the constant protesting from your mother, he insisted on bringing you along.

“It’s not proper for a young lady,” she had scowled at him, earning a micheivous smile from your father.

“And so is scowling, my darling. Yet, here we are.”

You chuckled at the memory. Your mother had grown red in the face and practically stomped her way out of the parlor. She had refused to speak to your father until he came home the next afternoon with a small bouquet of wildflowers. They had sat proudly on the table by the front door until they withered weeks later. And you had, indeed, gone on the hunting trip, picking up the art of tracking fairly quickly much to your father’s approval.

“She’s a natural! A regular scout, she is!” he had exclaimed excitedly to your mother when you had returned from the trip. Despite herself, your mother had smiled warmly at his enthusiasm.

Your heart clenched again at the happy memories from long ago. Your mother had died nearly five years ago now, and with your father’s death still so fresh, it was hard to allow yourself to dwell too long on those memories. Perhaps Benjamin was right. What you both needed was a fresh start.

The carriage lurched to a halt on the side of the road, and you heard the driver climb down from his perch. Gathering your skirts, you opened the door and stepped out into the blazing sun. No, the sun was much worse than the stifling heat of the carriage. Shielding your eyes from the dazzling light, you looked over to where the driver tended to the horses.

“Why have we stopped, sir?” you asked, moving to the front of the carriage. The older man looked up at you with a friendly smile, but you could see the tension that laced his shoulders.

“Just giving the horses a quick break, miss. We’ll be movin’ on shortly. I reckoned you’d want to stretch your legs for a bit, anyway.”

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled, looking around at the seemingly endless wasteland before you. Oh, how you longed for the gardens of Baltimore.

“How much farther until we reach Maverick?” you inquired. The newly founded town of Maverick was named after it’s founder - Peter “Maverick” Mitchell. A prominent businessman who had decided to try his luck at helping settle the west, much like your brother.

“Only a couple more miles now, miss,” the driver answered politely, eyes darting around the terrain.

“Are you quite alright?” you asked, nerves starting to eat their way up your spine.

“Just making sure we aren’t ambushed while we ain’t paying attention, is all.”

“Ambushed?” Your eyebrows shot up in alarm. The driver nodded.

“Yes’m. These parts are the Dagger posse’s territory.”

“The Dagger posse?” you murmured, inching closer to the carriage.

The driver scratched the back of his head and let out a sigh. “Some o’ the meanest sons of bitches in the west. Gang is led by Hangman and Rooster, and no one wants to get on their bad side.”

You didn’t respond. Of course you had heard rumors of outlaws here in the west, but you didn’t even think to entertain the possibility of them being anywhere near you. A mistake you now regretted. The driver must have seen your thoughts on your face because he offered you a reassuring smile.

“I reckon we’ll be fine, miss. Don’t you worry now.”

“Yes, thank you,” you answered politely, turning to make your way back towards the carriage. It was only a few moments later when you heard the driver climb back up onto his perch. The carriage lurched again as it began to move once again down the empty road.

Oh, what had you gotten yourself into?

#so so interesting!!#““Yes’m. These parts are the Dagger posse’s territory.””#<- love this #“Oh what had you gotten yourself into?”#<- what indeed #love it!#so excited to see how it will continue #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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It's a Date

It's a Date - Part One??

Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: this is kind of a feeler to see if anyone is interested in yet another fic in this trope

Summary: Jake Seresin is feeling defeated. His youngest sister, Brooke is getting married in 3 weeks, and he has yet to find a date. While he loves his family, he can't say he enjoys getting those comments from his mother about when he is going to find a "nice girl" and settle down. In comes Y/N "Casper" L/N, a prime target to help get rid of the one on Jake's back.

Warnings: probably very incorrect military information - but hey we're trying our best, probably profanity

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The Hard Deck was seemingly filled to the brim with aviators and civilians alike, something quite common for a Friday night in July. The crowd was loud, and there was an old rock song playing, however drowned out. The familiar clink of pool balls and thump of darts lulled incredibly tired individuals into a sense of calm.

In an entirely uncommon event, Hangman was... quiet. Too quiet if you ask any of his fellow aviators. Looks were passed, and whispers between Phoenix and Bob were somewhat hidden for thirty minutes.

"As much as we all appreciate a little bit of a break from hearing you go on about how great you are, you're kind of freaking me out," Phoenix tried as she walked up to the pool table. Coyote snickered beside her.

"Hmm?" Rooster quirked an eyebrow at the distracted man beside him. No come back? No stab at flirting? He took the pool cue and placed one end of the floor. He waited a moment. Despite the far away look in Jake's eye, he sunk the shot he had lined up. Rolling his eyes, Rooster decided to test the boundaries.

"Hey Hangman, did you hear that Cyclone let me know I was getting a promotion? Lieutenant Commander."

"Wow, that's cool," Hangman replied. He lined up his next shot. Those surrounding the pool table were a bit taken aback. Bringing his cue back, he stuttered on the follow through. "Wait, what?" The ball missed the pocket by about half a foot.

"There he is," Bob said from his seat, rolling his eyes.

"Lieutenant Commander? Rooster we both know you'd be the last-" Hangman began, hitting what the squad called his sassy stance. One hand on his hip, jutted out, the other holding his cue stick.

"Hey, no need to hurl insults, I was just seeing how out of it you were. Wasn't sure if we needed to send you to the infirmary. Your ego wasn't practically suffocating us" Rooster put his hands up in a mock-surrender.

Hangman placed his hand on his face, letting it slide down in hopes it wipe the worry away. He debated on brushing it off and telling them he was just picturing the best way to rub in his latest win during their dogfighting. The Dagger Squad had been stationed together in Miramar for a little over a year and no one was being reassigned anytime soon. Jake had been making a conscious effort to be more vulnerable with the squad, to let them in as his chosen family.

"My sister is getting married in 3 weeks."

The others were silent for a moment.

"Congratulations?" Phoenix offered. Hangman sighed and shook his head, mostly to himself.

"When they started planning the wedding six months ago I told my mom I had someone to bring with me," He started. Rooster cocked his head to the side. "She reminded me on a phone call about how excited she is to meet my girlfriend"

"Hangman has a girlfriend?" Fanboy pipped in, after hearing bits of the conversation.

"He doesn't," Rooster answered for him. "That's the problem."

"Hey, why don't you get someone to go with you and just act like you are dating?" Bob spoke from his spot on the chair. Suddenly feeling numerous eyes, he started to defend, "I've heard people do it a lot."

"I'm not bringing some hooker to meet my family," Hangman huffed, glaring in Bob's direction, then softening his gaze. "I'm just going to have to tell my mom that she and I broke up. Maybe she'll even pity me enough to not try and set me up with her friend's children." Jake leaned his pool stick up against the table and went to sit down next to Bob. He sipped his drink as he pondered how that would play out in reality.

"Get Casper to go with you." Hangman almost choked on his drink. He looked incredulously in Coyote's direction. "Think about it, she's the only one you know well enough to pretend you've been dating. Besides Phoenix, but we all know her acting skills wouldn't be good enough to go along with being your girlfriend for four days." Phoenix elbowed him in the rib. Coyote tries to stand tall, but still clutches his side in his hands.

As if on cue, he hears her voice. Still in her service khakis and hair in a bun, she carries her drink with her toward the group.

"Hey, what are we talking about?"

"I swear this type of shit only happens in movies."

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading!

Anyway, let me know if this is something I should even consider continuing!

#this is so great!#i would love to read more!#“I swear this type of shit only happens in movies.”#<- hilarious!!! love it!!!#the whole dynamics of the Daggers and all the interactions are so on point!!!#love it!!!#so excited to see how it will continue #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun: maverick #fic rec #furiousladyking

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seresimp · 7 months

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Coming Home

Summary: Jake comes home from a 6 month deployment.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Warnings: None. Unless you count fluff.

Can be read as part two to The Night Before

You adjusted the straps to your sundress for the fourth time as you stood underneath the bright sunlight on the dock. Around you other groups of people were standing together and talking animatedly as everyone's eyes were trained to the large ship that had docked.

It had been a long 6 months. Jake had officially been gone for double the time that the two of you had been together before he'd left. Your feelings for him hadn't changed, your heart beat solidly for him with it's every pound in your chest.

Every phone call had been answered, every letter he'd sent had been read so often that you could recite them from memory. From what you could tell Jake was still just as crazy about you as he had been when he'd left, but it was hard to judge with the limited number of phone calls that he'd been allowed.

He'd asked you to pick him up during your last phone call with him, something that you'd taken as a good sign, but you couldn't deny the nervous butterflies that were dancing in your stomach.

A collective gasp made it's way through the crowd as the first of the sailors made their way off of the boat. You strained on your tip toes, squinting to see if you could make out his figure among the crowd. You'd told him in your last letter where you were planning on standing so that he'd be able to find you easier.

What you hadn't been expecting was the way that the gaps in the crowd began to fill as everyone surged forward to greet their loved ones. Any and all of the open spaces that you'd been using to gain view of the boat was thoroughly blocked.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself. You leaned back against the railing that you were standing in front of as you tried to decide if you should move forward, but than you'd risk him coming over to where you'd told him you'd be and not finding you.

You were so focused on the crowd in front of you and trying to find a gap that you could peak through that you missed him completely as he sneaked around the side of the crowd to where you were. It wasn't until he was a few steps from you that you caught a glimpse of him in your periphery.

He was grinning at you so broadly and his eyes were shining as they drank in your form standing just beyond his reach. You forgot the annoying crowd and anxieties as your eyes landed on his - so green.

You were running towards him before you realized. He dropped his bag to the ground as you closed the distance, arms ready when you launched yourself into them. They closed around you, cradling your body as close to his own as he could. Your arms were tight around his shoulders and you let yourself bury your head into his neck, breathing him in. "Jake," you whispered.

"Hey Darlin'," his answering voice echoed into your ears. His hand rubbing up and down your back, "Missed you something fierce."

You pulled back to look at his face. It was a little more tan than it had been when he'd left, the lines on his face a little more pronounced from the lack of sleep he'd gotten and the stress he'd been under, but his eyes were just as soft as he looked at you as they had been before he'd left. Maybe more.

His smile cracked as he drank in your watery eyes and the tears that were streaming freely down your face, "I- really- missed- you too," you forced out between the tears.

"Oh Honey," he cooed, pulling you back into his chest and pressing a kiss to your head.

Having him this close made your worries from before seem laughable. It was obvious to you in the way his arms clung to your body desperately, in the way he was breathing in the smell of your perfume to calm his racing heart, in how his hands shook where they gripped your skin that he was just as infatuated with you as he had been before he'd left. You wondered, only for a moment while the world was left behind and the only thing that existed was the closeness of his body, if he'd been worried about the same things.

"Jake," you pulled your head back to meet his gaze. "Can you take me home?"

All of the tension eased from his body, "Yeah, Honey." He set you down on your feet, waiting a minute for you to gain your balance before he let you go fully. He knelt down and picked up his bag that he'd dropped, using his other hand to grab onto your much smaller one.

You'd taken an Uber to pick him up, knowing that he'd parked his truck before he'd left and that he'd want to drive that to his house. Luckily, he still remembered where he had parked it and was quick to get his bags loaded up.

Sitting in the cab of his truck, you waited for him to climb in and start the radio. It was a short drive from the base to his house, but it felt much shorter than it had this morning to pick him up. His hand rested on the exposed skin of your thigh and his thumb was moving lazily back and forth. You lasted until the first stoplight before you were unbuckling your seat belt and sliding across the bench seating to sit closer to him. You wrapped an arm around his bicep and rested your head on his shoulder.

You felt more than saw him glance down at you and chuckle, "Comfy?"

You nodded, "Much more than I had been before, thank you for asking." He stretched the arm you were holding to cover both of your legs and let you cuddle into him for the remaining drive to the house.

Unpacking and getting settled took him next to no time at all and when he'd finished putting his bags in the hall closet he turned facing you completely. His body sagged with exhaustion but his eyes were shining as he took in your form leaning against the wall across from him. You'd hardly left his side since he'd come back, following him from room to room as he unpacked and put everything to rights.

Jake smiled and held out his hand to you.

You didn't hesitate, your sock covered feet sliding across his hardwood in your haste to reach him. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "Hi," you whispered, giddy at his sudden need to have you closer.

Jake just grunted before bending slightly to capture your lips with his own. They were slightly chapped, no doubt from the sea air, but he tasted just as you remembered. His mouth moving against yours in a familiar dance.

You let your hands slide up his arms and into the hair at his neck, resting all of your body weight against him as you did. He groaned into your mouth as you ran your nails against his scalp. Jake's hand slid lower to cup your ass, squeezing it firmly in his hands.

He pulled away, placing a few kisses to your mouth before he was fully ready to be parted from you. He only gave you a minute to get the air back into your brain before he bent at the waist and threw you over his shoulder.

"Jake!" You shrieked, using his lower back to prop yourself up.

He let out a loud laugh, "C'mon Darlin', I think it's time for a nap."

You scowled down at his legs, "You could've just asked me."

You swear that he smirked as he said, "Well where's the fun in that?" Your answering smack of his ass echoed your opinion and his resounding laugh answered his own.

~~~~

A/N: Apparently I really like writing for Jake? Every time I write for him, the story flows so much better out of my head. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed that and feel free to send me any requests you guys have for Jake.

#so so sweet!!!#the 'missed you's just got to me #“Well where's the fun in that?” Your answering smack of his ass echoed your opinion and his resounding laugh answered his own.#<- so funny and fluffy and sweet and awww #love this!#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec #applebutter-and-cinnamon

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seresimp · 7 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter One

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Trigger Warnings: Alcohol, Jake Seresin, suggestive language, fear of abandonment. I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.87k

A/N: Wasn't sure I was going to post again tonight, but here we are! Not sure I'm going to post a fic update tomorrow, but I might work on some drabbles and post some of the asks sitting in my inbox. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under soldier_pilot!

Series Masterlist

The cool, night breeze twisted its way through the door of the crowded pub as a group of patrons exited, offering the briefest relief to your clammy skin as you busied yourself behind the bar. Patrons crowded around the various tables, some laughing in the open while others crowded in the dark shadows of the corners. Your regulars were easy to spot, most of them fishermen. Their carefree attitudes set them apart from the strangers passing through who kept themselves closed off and guarded in an unfamiliar places.

“Y/n!” Called Tom, one of your regulars. He had been a good friend to your father, having known him from his early fishing days. Tom had done well for himself, having been able to put enough money away to buy his own ship - the Iceman. “How’s about another ale!”

“Coming, Captain!” you hollered over at him jovially, already moving to grab a fresh glass. You had always liked the old captain, and had considered him to be a part of your family growing up. When your parents had died, he had seen to it personally that you were taken care of and that Bradley was able to secure steady work on the various shipping vessels that docked on your shores. “Where’s Rooster?”

“Should be coming along soon, I suspect,” Tom smiled warmly. Bradley had been picking up different odd jobs as of late, his latest one being aboard the Iceman loading and unloading cargo. He had been dodging your questions about it as of late, and you had started to wonder if he was up to something.

“He’s going to work himself into an early grave,” you grumbled, sliding the glass of ale down to the captain who caught it easily. “He won’t even tell me what he’s doing all of these jobs for.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” mused Tom, lifting the glass up to his lips to take a swig. “He probably doesn’t want you to worry.”

“He’s worrying me by not saying anything,” you countered, leaning against the bar. At that moment, the pub door swung open, and an exhausted looking Bradley stumbled through. You rounded the bar to help him sit down as he staggered onto a stool. “Bradley, for heaven’s sake!”

“Think you can get me an ale, Guppy?” he asked, rubbing at the bags under his eyes. The tips of his ears and nose were seared pink from hours spent in the intense sun, and you frowned at him.

“What you need is sleep,” you countered, but Bradley shook his head, fixing you with tired, pleading eyes.

“Please?” he asked again, softer this time. You sighed, moving back behind the bar and pouring him a draft before sliding it over to him. He grabbed it, raising it up in a silent cheers before tossing his head back with a long swig.

“Easy, lad,” Tom frowned, watching the young man as he took another long pull from his glass. Bradley set his drink down, absentmindedly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Another,” he told you, but you shook your head.

“No, absolutely not,” you scowled as the furrow between his eyes deepened. “You need to go home and rest, Bradley.”

“She’s right, lad,” Tom started, twisting in his seat to face the younger man. “You’ll work yourself into an early grave if you’re not careful.”

“I’m fine,” Bradley muttered, resting his head against the palm of his hand. Tom gave him a wry smile before clapping his hand on the other man’s shoulder. He shot you a wink before getting up to join his crew that was gathered on the opposite side of the room. You watched him go before turning back to look at Bradley with a frown.

“C’mon, Roos,” you prodded, leaning your head down so you could meet his gaze that was fixed on the bartop. “Tell me what you’re up to.”

“Nothin’” he grumbled unconvincingly. You rolled your eyes with a purse of your lips.

“I’m having a hard time believing you,” you sniped, snatching the glass away from him. Without another word to him, you poured another ale and offered it to him. He took it, offering a small smile. He met your even gaze just long enough for you to see the flash of guilt that flitted in his eyes. “What was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, taking a small sip from his glass.

“Why do you look guilty?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bradley Bradshaw,” you hissed, eyes blazing, “I have known you for twenty years now. Either you tell me what you’re up to right now, or I will personally see to it that you won’t be able to get another job for a month.”

“Alright,” he winced, setting the glass down and finally meeting your stare. “You have to promise me you won’t yell.”

You scoffed. “Are you twelve?”

“Guppy, promise me,” he insisted, hazel eyes pleading with you. You studied him another moment before sighing.

“Alright, fine.”

“I’m leaving.”

“You’re what?” you shrieked, causing some of the patrons to turn to the two of you as Bradley hissed at you to be quiet.

“You promised you wouldn’t be mad.”

“That was before you told me you were leaving,” you snapped. “Where are you even going to go?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, leaning back. “Still need to find a crew that will take me on long-term.”

You stayed silent, watching him with furious eyes. After a couple of beats, you turned to walk back around the bar. “Caroline, I’m leaving.”

She waved after you, moving to tend to some patrons on the opposite end of the bar. Bradley watched you walk away with wide eyes before getting up to stumble after you. You flung the door of the pub open before setting off with a brisk pace down the road.

“Guppy!”

You ignored the man behind you, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

“Guppy?”

The tears began to fall, the trails they left behind on your cheeks turning to ice in the cool, night air. You turned to walk down to the beach past the docks. How could he drop that bomb shell on you? How could he keep that hidden from you in the first place? Your anger only served to cover up the true emotion you tried your hardest to ignore. Betrayal.

“Y/n, please,” Bradley begged, his long legs having helped him catch up to you by now. You stopped in your tracks, feet sliding into the sand beneath you as you whirled around. You shoved Bradley with all of your strength, shock at the unexpected movement being the only reason stumbled back at all.

“How could you?” you cried, tears falling quicker and your breath coming out shallower as you fought to keep your composure. “How could you just plan to leave me?”

“It’s not like that,” he started, but you shook your head.

“Don’t lie to me, Bradley,” you seethed, hands now clenched at your sides. “Don’t. I deserve the truth. Were you even going to say goodbye to me, or were you just going to vanish one day?”

“Of course not,” he murmured, staring at you with eyes once again pleading with you. “I would never do that to you. You know that.”

“I thought I knew you well enough to know that you wouldn’t leave,” you shot back, causing Bradley to wince. “Guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

“Y/n,” he sighed, running a hand over his face and looking out at the ocean. He seemed to be mulling over his words. “It wouldn’t be forever.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” you laughed humorlessly.

“It wouldn’t be forever,” he continued, giving you a pointed look. “It would only be until I earned enough to buy my own ship.”

“You can do that here,” you argued, but Bradley shook his head with a small, empty laugh.

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ve barely earned enough these past weeks to live off of for a month out at sea. I’d be buried in the ground before I earned enough to buy a ship, and you know that.”

You couldn’t argue. You knew he was right, and you knew that this was not the life he had dreamed of. He had dreamed of going off with your father on one of his many voyages before the sea had claimed him. It had been years, but the pain of his and your mother’s passing still felt fresh in your heart.

You saw how Bradley looked longingly out at the sea when he thought you weren’t looking, or how he always looked happiest standing on the deck of a boat. No, Bradley was meant for a life at sea, and you knew it. You just never thought he would leave you behind.

“It won’t be forever,” he says again, moving to put his hands on your shoulders, bending down so he was eye level with you. “And when I earn enough money to buy my own ship, I’ll come back for you.”

“That could be years,” you croaked, your voice barely above a whisper. Bradley sucks in a breath before slowly nodding.

“You’re right,” he conceded, wiping the tears from your cheek.

“What if you forget about me?”

Bradley huffed out a laugh before drawing you into his arms. He hugged you tightly, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “How could I forget my baby sister? Besides, I think you’d swim across the ocean to find me if I ever forgot about you.”

You huffed a laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re probably right.”

“‘Course I am,” he chuckled, pulling away from you. “Now, c’mon. It’s freezin’ out here, and I’m exhausted.”

You allowed him to lead you up the hill to your shared home. He left a chaste kiss to the top of your head before wishing you goodnight. As you lay in bed that night, you obsessed over the one question you had refused to allow yourself to ask him down at the beach. What if the sea claimed him too?

The following night, you found yourself back behind the bar of the pub. You had heard snippets of chatter amongst the locals about an unknown ship that had docked on your shores.

“I don’t like the look of’em,” Tom had told you and Bradley as he sat at the bar. A lull in the crowd had granted you a moment to stop and talk with the two of them.

“Why’s that?” you asked. He frowned.

“When you get to be my age,” he grumbled, “you can start to pick out the rotten sorts from just a glance.”

Before you could respond, the pub door swung open, hitting the wall with a thud. All three of you turned to see a large group step through the doorway and into the warm glow of the lantern filled room. A blond man stood at the front of the group, lips curled into a confident smirk. You noted the handsome features of him and his companions, and you knew the other women in the room had as well due to the scattered giggles from around the room.

“That’s them,” Tom mumbled, taking another sip of his ale.

The blond scanned his eyes across the room before catching sight of you at the bar. A twinkle of intrigue shone in his eyes as he began to saunter over to you, his crew dispersing to find a table to sit at. You shot a weary glance at Tom before moving to meet the tall stranger on the opposite side of where Bradley sat.

“Evenin’” you greeted with a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

The man looked you over with lick of his lips. “An ale, and your company if you’re offerin’ that too.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm. It wasn’t the first time a patron had made a pass at you, but it was the first time a patron was that devilishly handsome. “The ale, I can get you, but I’m not in the habit of entertaining sailors.”

“Shame,” the stranger grins, watching as you pour his drink. You hand it to him, and you feel a shiver run up your spine as his fingers graze yours. “Would have been nice to have someone as pretty as you in my bed tonight.”

You saw Bradley’s jaw tick from the corner of your eye, and you shot him a warning glance. This part of your job wasn’t new, and you had long since learned how to handle yourself in these situations.

“I believe there are more than a couple of girls over there who would be willing to warm your bed tonight, Mr…?”

“Seresin,” he said with a cheeky grin. “Jake Seresin. And I’m not interested in having anyone but you, pretty girl.”

“Well, then it looks like your bed will go cold tonight after all,” you said to him. Bradley snorted, trying to cover it with a cough, but Jake ignored him.

“Seresin,” Tom grunted, causing all three of you to look at him. He shook his head, and turned to glare at Jake. “I’ve heard of you. You’re a pirate.”

The conversation died in the pub as everyone turned to look at your little group by the bar. Jake’s easy grin never faltered as he stared back at Tom.

“Pirate is such a nasty word,” he drawled, taking a sip of his ale. “I prefer the term…liberator.”

“Whatever you call it, you have no business here,” Tom snapped.

“I beg to differ, my friend,” Jake countered, moving to stand. Turning to the rest of the room, he stated, “I’m looking for men to join my crew. You keep what you can carry with you. If you’re interested, come see me.”

And with one final glance at you, he sauntered off towards the back of the room where his crew had taken up purchase.

“Pirates?” you asked, looking at Tom hesitantly. He shook his head and got up to go join his own crew in the corner. You peered at Bradley from the corner of your eye. He studied the rim of his glass as he stroked it thoughtfully.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked him. He jumped as your words pulled him from his train of thought.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, refusing to meet your gaze. You studied him him for a moment until you saw the quick glance he threw towards the back of the room.

“No,” you snapped, causing him to finally meet your gaze. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” he scowled, but you fixed him with a glare and a finger pointed into his chest.

“Don’t even think about it,” you hissed in warning. Bradley glared right back at you before hopping off his stool and strutting towards the crew at the back. You scrambled around the bar after him. You closed the distance just as he stopped in front of Jake.

“I want to join your crew,” he stated. Jake looked at him with an amused look, eyes flickering to you as you pulled on Bradley’s arm so that he faced you.

“Bradley, don’t,” you begged.

“Y/n, enough,” he snapped down at you, taking you aback. His eyes softened as you looked up at his broad frame with hurt bewilderment. He let out a long sigh, running a hand through his sandy brown locks. He looked back at you before continuing. “Don’t you see, Guppy? This is my chance. If I don’t go now, who knows when I’ll get another opportunity to leave and make my fortune.”

“Roo, you’re my brother. I can’t let you do this,” you pleaded, taking his hand in yours. You willed him to listen to you, but it was no use.

“I’ve made my decision, Guppy,” he said. You couldn’t stop the flash of hurt you knew passed over your face as Bradley turned back to the captain. You looked around at the other patrons desperately before settling your eyes on Tom. He was already looking at you with a solemn expression, shaking his head.

“Sign here,” Jake instructed, pointing to the piece of parchment he had rolled out onto the table. Bradley obeyed, scratching his name in quick strokes to the bottom. You felt the tears start to run down your face before you could stop them. You couldn’t stop anything, it seemed. Bradley straightened and turned to look at you. The two of you stared at one another for several moments before you turned on your heel and stormed away from him.

That night, as you lay in bed, you dreamed of the sea. You dreamed of blue and green swirling around you as you struggled to breath. You dreamed of splintering wood and echoed shrieks that were drowned out by thundering waves. You dreamed of strange creatures that lurked the deep as they waited for their next meal. You dreamed of golden hair and cocky smirks as they taunted you beneath the waves. You dreamt of a cold, calloused hand that pulled you under until the surface was nothing but a distant memory.

#so so great!#“You hand it to him and you feel a shiver run up your spine as his fingers graze yours.”#<- awww my goodness!#so good!#“You dreamed of golden hair and cocky smirks as they taunted you beneath the waves.”#<- amazing!#“You dreamt of a cold calloused hand that pulled you under until the surface was nothing but a distant memory.”#<- so spooky but so beautiful!#““Pirate is such a nasty word” he drawled taking a sip of his ale. “I prefer the term…liberator.””#<- of course he does!!!#love this!#so excited to see how it will continue still #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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Fool's Fare: Prologue

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Trigger Warnings: Death of parents, angst, talk of ghosts and the supernatural, Big Brother!Bradley...I think that's it?

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I went ahead and wrote this. I am just as interested as y'all to see where this fic goes lol As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are encouraged and appreciated! I'll be doing Drabble Sunday this weekend to celebrate my first 100 followers! So get your requests ready!! 18+ ONLY!! And you can find me on AO3 under soldier_pilot!

Series Masterlist

The ocean was a deep, terrifying swirl of forgotten pasts and horrowing mysteries. The viscious pull of the waves sending many sailors to their graves for thousands of years without mercy. No, the ocean was not kind. It was the source of life on the best of occasions and cruel and unforgiving on the worst.

Your father had been a sailor. Working for a large shipping company hauling various goods from one end of the sea to the other, he was often gone for long stretches of time. After months of being away, it was always a joyous reunion when he would return. He would swing you up in his arms, twirling you until your little giggles turned into full blown laughter. He would set you back down on your feet and greet your mother with an affectionate kiss to her temple before tugging you both into his arms.

“My best girls are always here to greet me when I get home,” he’d grin. Your mother would hum, running her hands through the beard he’d grow during his time away.

“Come inside,” she’d say, leading you both into your modest, seaside home. Your father would sit at the table as your mother fixed him a plate. He would tell her that he was more than capable of fixing his own plate, but she would wave him off and place the food gently in front of him with a kiss to the top of his head.

One day, when you were a little over four years old, your father had come home from a voyage with a scraggly looking boy who looked to be about twice your age. Your father had been dragging the boy by the scruff of his collar when you and your mother had come out to greet him. The boy had dark brown hair that had been bleached from time in the sun and steady, hazel eyes that held steady as he took in the house before him.

“Found this one on the coasts of the Carolinas,” your father had said with a grin, letting go of the boy’s shirt. He stumbled forward, almost falling headfirst onto the ground. He looked back at the older man with a scowl before turning to look at the two of you.

“My, don’t you look a sight?” your mother had said with a small smile as she took the boy in. He puffed out his chest in a bid to make himself seem bigger and your mother had laughed. You took the few, small steps up to him, taking his hand in yours excitedly.

“My name is y/n,” you chirped up at him. “What’s yours?”

The boy studied you with pursed lips.

“Bradley,” he muttered. Your father had let out a booming laugh, causing Bradley to jump.

“That’s the first answer we’ve been able to get out of him since we caught him rifling through our supplies on the ship!” he guffawed. “C’mon now, boy. Let’s go get us some supper.”

And so your family had taken in Bradley Bradshaw as one of your own, and he settled in fairly quickly amongst the rest of you. He would help your mother out with different chores around the house, and when your father was home, he would take you and Bradley down by the docks to teach you the ways of sailing.

“You want to tie it like this, sweetheart,” he’d say to you as he guided your hands on how to move the rope. “It’s one of the most important knots a sailor needs to know. It’s called the ‘bowline.’”

“Like this?” Bradley had asked, holding up his own rope for your father to inspect.

“Atta boy, Rooster!” your father had laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. Bradley had earned the nickname not too long after he had joined your little family. Your father had just gotten back from another transporting job. He had been woken from his sleep by sounds coming from the kitchen. When he had stumbled into the room, he had seen Bradley already working on feeding the fire for the day.

“The sun isn’t even up yet, Bradley,” your father had laughed as the boy shrunk in on himself. “I doubt even the rooster is awake! Looks like you’re gunnin’ for his job.”

And the name had stuck.

Now, Bradley was more confident in his place within your family. Now, Bradley was much taller and his form was filling out thanks to the many hours spent doing the heavy lifting around your home.

“Keep this up,” your father started, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips, “and maybe I’ll take you with me on a job here soon.”

Bradley’s face lit up. “Do you mean it?”

“Let’s see, you're about, what, sixteen now?”

“Yes, sir,” Bradley nodded, a smile etched onto his face. Your father nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, you should be ready here soon.”

You looked down at the rope in your hands with a frown. “I’ll never get this. Why do I even have to learn this?”

“Because, my little minnow,” your father smiled, “it’s an important skill to know and have.”

“But Mama says that women aren’t even allowed on ships,” you muttered. Your father smoothed the hair out of your face with a thoughtful hum.

“It’s true, women were once considered bad luck to have on ships, and many men still consider them to be so,” he began. “But times are changing, and maybe one day soon you’ll get to set sail with us.”

“Really?” you asked him, eyes filled with hope. He laughed and nodded, turning to look at Bradley.

“C’mon you two. Let’s go see what Mother’s been cooking.”

The three of you trudged up the hill to your home where your mother was already standing outside to greet you. Greeting her with a tender kiss, your father ushed you and Bradley into the house.

When supper was finished and the table had been cleared, you all gathered around the small fireplace. Your father sat in his favorite chair while Bradley and your mother took up the other two. You sat by your fathers feet, resting your head against his knee. The smell from your father’s pipe permeated the room and left you with a sense of fond familiarity as he slowly stroked your hair.

“Papa,” you said, “will you tell us a story?”

“And what kind of story would you like to hear, little minnow?”

“An adventure!” Bradley had grinned. You shook your head.

“No,” you argued. “A ghost story.”

“Ghosts aren’t real, y/n,” the older boy scoffed. Your father hummed with a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t be so sure o’ that, Rooster,” he smiled. Bradley fixed him with an incredulous look.

“Surely you can’t be serious?”

“As the dead, lad,” your father said solemnly, rubbing the bowl of his pipe. “Ghosts walk amongst the living, as real as you or I. Some even sail the seas, waiting for the day Davy Jones lets them pass into the great beyond.”

“What does Davy Jones even have to do with the dead,” Bradley huffed. Your father arched an eyebrow at him.

“He has everything to do with the dead at sea, Bradley,” he replied softly. “Davy Jones is a powerful man. Not quite human, not quite god. He’s as cruel and unforgiving as the sea, and some even think he was born from the waves that beat against the rocks by the shore. They say his very will controls the tides, and any man foolish enough to invoke his wrath is met with a gruesome fate.”

“Those are just superstitions,” Bradley countered with a scowl.

“You’re free to believe that,” your father began, “but you’d be a fool to. No sailor with a lick of sense is going to take that chance. Davy Jones will come for us all.”

“Why does Davy Jones stay at sea, Papa?” you chirped.

“No one is quite sure,” your father mused. “Perhaps he’s searching for treasure.”

“Would you ever go looking for treasure?” you questioned. Your father smiled.

“I’ve already found my treasure,” he said, casting a fond smile to your mother, who blushed under his gaze.

“Have you ever seen Davy Jones?” you prodded with wide eyes. Your father chuckled, patting your head in reassurance.

“No, little minnow. But those who have are few and far in between. Davy Jones isn’t in the business of letting witnesses stay alive.”

“That’s enough, Maverick,” your mother had chided. Your father had the good sense to look sheepish. Maverick was a name your father had earned during his time at sea, and your mother only called him that when she was cross. Usually, she called him by his given name; Peter or Pete.

“My apologies, Penny, my dear,” he said. Looking back down at you, he offered a smile. “Alright, y/n, it’s time for bed. You too, Bradley. I need you up bright and early tomorrow morning.”

You and Bradley bid your mother goodnight as your father followed you down the hall. When you had crawled under your blanket, he had made sure to tuck you in tight.

“I didn’t scare you too bad, did I, little minnow?” he asked. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, Papa. But, what if you meet Davy Jones one day?”

“That won’t be for a good, long while, sweetheart,” he said with a smile. You nodded, resting your head back down onto your pillow. Your father leaned over to peck your forehead before standing to walk out the door.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he said. You smiled.

“Goodnight, Papa.”

A good, long while was not long enough in the end. It was six years later when you got the news that your father’s ship had gone down in a storm off the coast of the Caribbean. Your mother had been beside herself, crying all hours of the day as you and Bradley did your best to stay strong for her sake.

Bradley had caught you crying by the fireplace one night after you thought everyone had gone to bed. He sat next to you, and pulled you to his side as you cried into his shoulder.

“I miss him so much,” you sobbed.

“I know,” he said softly. “I do too.”

“He should be here.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair,” you cried. “We didn’t even get to bury him.”

“I know, Guppy,” he sighed, hugging you tighter. Bradley wasn’t very good with words, and he sure as hell wasn’t good with emotions. “But he wouldn’t want us to dwell on this, you know that.”

“I know,” you sniffled, rubbing at your eyes. “He always loved the sea.”

“He loved being here, too,” Bradley countered. You looked up to see his own eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Your mother had followed your father not long after. She had stopped eating and barely took a sip when you begged her to drink some water. She would stay perched by the window in the bedroom she once shared with your father, just staring out at the sea as if willing him to return. It had ended up being a fever that had taken her one early, autumn morning. It was your turn to be inconsolable as you once again found yourself buried into Bradley’s shoulder as he held you tightly. You buried your mother on the hill that overlooked the sea, forever waiting for your father to return home.

You and Bradley had stayed by her grave until the sun began to set.

The following days were filled with familiar motions and quiet sobs hidden behind closed doors long after the stars began to shine in the night sky. One night, you had set a bowl of stew in front of Bradley after he had come home from working at the docks. The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes before Bradley pulled you to your feet. You went to say something, but he motioned for you to be quiet as he pulled you through the front door and out of the house.

“Where are we going?” you hissed quietly.

“Just trust me,” he shot back, dragging you down to the beach. The cool sand rubbed against the soles of your feet as you followed him, and he stopped you when you both were standing at the edge of the water. The water felt like ice as it licked aginst your ankles, and you felt a shudder run up your spine.

“There!” he called out, gesturing towards the open sea. You looked, but saw nothing but the white caps of waves.

“I don’t see anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. Bradley offered you a smile.

“That’s because you aren’t looking hard enough,” he murmured. He bent down, pointing his finger so that it was directly in your line of sight. “There, do you see it now?”

You squinted your eyes, trying to see what it was he was looking at. “Rooster, I don’t-”

“I see them,” he interrupted you, smiling confidantly. You fixed him with a puzzled look. “I see Mav and Penny just over there past the waves.”

Your heart stopped and hot tears licked at your eyes as you looked back at the churning waters. It was then that you saw what Bradley had been talking about. You saw your mother and your father with smiles on their faces, staring at each other with adoration clear as day on their faces. You wiped the tears away from your eyes as you looked back to see them waving at you. You huffed a laugh and smiled back at them with a wave of your own.

“Looks like Davy Jones let Mav come back for his treasure,” Bradley said. You threw yourself into his arms, holding him tightly.

“Thank you, Bradley.”

The sea could be cold and cruel, but you had the strength to weather the storm.

#so so beautiful!!!#““Looks like Davy Jones let Mav come back for his treasure””#<- crying!#love this!#so excited to see how it will continue #jake hangman seresin x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #penny benjamin #top gun maverick #fic rec #sailor-aviator

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seresimp · 7 months

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This Moodboard is dedicated to @seresimp who is so amazing and is always willing to chat with me about my crazy AUs…. Well here is the next one!

Troy x Top Gun Maverick- A Hannix Story

We have Jake as Achilles

Phoenix as Cassandra/Breseis (because she falls for Jake despite him being the enemy)

Bradley as Hector

#i love this!!!!#amazing!!!!#YOU are amazing!!!!!#jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #hannix #top gun: maverick #moodboard #BEAUTIFUL!!!#missathlete31

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seresimp · 8 months

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Dead on Your Feet Chapter 12

As the winner of my WIP poll, Dead on Your Feet gets a full chapter. I don't think I can ever apologize enough for the delay in getting this written. I know that nothing I write can ever be worth that long of waiting BUT i do hope you all like this next chapter.

Chapter Summary: Maverick gets into the helicopter and finds chaos. They may have been rescued from the water but the boys aren’t safe yet

Link for my masterlist for the other parts: Here

Also warnings: MEDICAL SCENES, BLOOD, SURGERY, AND LOTS OF ANGST so be warned

The ascent towards the helicopter is meant to be the end of this whole nightmare for Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell. His missing pilots have been found; have already risen to the sanctity of the bird hovering in the night sky. Now it is only left to him to be pulled to safety before they can all head home: Maverick yanked from the darkest depths behind a Bradshaw in an eerily familiar fashion. This time however, Pete leaves the cold ocean waves ready to feel victorious, to feel as though he finally has succeeded and achieved the ultimate miracle of the day, getting everyone home alive.

But once more he is struck down.

The second Maverick hauls himself into the rescue helicopter, he knows something is wrong. First and foremost, he is in charge of getting himself inside the aircraft. It's been a few decades since he was last fished from water but even Pete knows that someone is meant to be manning the rope's ascension, a beacon of hope with a strong and steady hand to pull the water logged victims into this airborne shelter. The Captain is on his own here though, no one else stands at the door of the bird, so the older than regulation pilot is forced to stumble on his hands and knees until he is safely inside. A temper burns within him, the need to understand why something else on this day of days is not going as planned. When Maverick looks up at the other occupants of this helicopter to state his indignation though, all he recognizes when his eyes finally focus is chaos.

Gone is the hushed silence from outside, the singular focus on being found and staying alive. It is replaced with a roar of pained sounds and the panic-stricken energy of multiple bodies crammed into a tight space fighting for purchase. Pete’s eyes naturally train on Rooster first, his gaze widening as he sees a young man pulling his Lieutenant back with a harsh grip. Mav moves to intervene, to scream over the hysterical bellowing issuing from Bradshaw’s mouth, and ask what the hell is going on, but before he can even take a step forward, Pete gets a clear view of Jake Seresin on the floor of the aircraft, spread eagle and unmoving, as a middle aged Hispanic man pounds heavily on the blonde’s sternum.

Maverick knows logically that the man above Seresin is some sort of doctor, he can tell just from the uniform alone. However doctor or not, the sight of this man pumping harshly on Jake’s chest makes the older pilot need to look away in fear he might intercede. A protectiveness rises within Pete, unwavering in its ferocity at the unnatural sight before him; a bruised and bloody Hangman being pounded into the floor as a means of saving his life.

Because Seresin isn't breathing.

The grimace from the rescue diver makes a lot more sense now.

Bradley's screams still ring out in the air around them, each one more and more blood curdling. He is being restrained by someone similar in size to the 6 foot Bradshaw and yet Rooster continues to hurl his exhausted and drenched body towards his wingman relentlessly. He roars over all the other noise around them, his temper on full display. It's been over a decade since Maverick has seen it in all its fury but he remembers how the younger Bradshaw could wield his anger like the deadliest sword. His visceral emotions striking like perfect daggers each and every time. Pete knows he needs to control it, to distract Rooster so that the man holding him back can get the rescue swimmer back up and they can make their way back to the ship, but the older pilot is shocked still; his senses all but burnt out at the overwhelming assault of the environment around him.

"Captain" a voice snaps, and Pete turns to see the doctor, the name Sosa stitched onto his chest, still pumping furiously. Maverick can make out the beginnings of a bruise reddening the other man's cheek, the sickening thought that the blow to the face was most likely caused by Bradley's fist before the aviator was properly subdued. "Captain" the man speaks up again, "I need you to control your pilot."

"I-" Maverick gapes helplessly, as though he is being asked to do the impossible; and maybe he is. There might have been a time when he could calm Bradley Bradshaw down with a quick word or a tight hug, when he would snuggle with the little boy who was scared of thunder, or lecture the kid who rode his bike too far down the street. That kid doesn't exist anymore, or perhaps the Maverick that could do all those things is really the one who's gone; either way Pete Mitchell is as helpless to the lashes of Bradley Bradshaw's ire as anyone else.

Pete is not allowed to stay stationary for long though, as once more the voice calls for him to focus. "Captain" the tone is desperate, exhausted, as still Doctor Sosa thrusts his hands powerfully down on Hangman's chest cavity in an effort to bring life back into the kid's heart. "Your Lieutenant's heart is not beating," Sosa explains with a tinge of aggression, "and he's getting no oxygen. Do you understand what that means?" The man spares a quick second to make eye contact with Maverick, his pupils blown in his exertion, "that means if I stop compressions, if I tire, or if we don't get back to the ship soon, he's dead, alright?" The doctor looks back down at the body in hands, the life he is trying to hold onto in his grasp, "he'd have been dead already if he wasn't hypothermic from the temperature of the water" he shares, hushed but still forceful, while a shiver rocks the Hispanic man's frame; as though the core temperature of Lieutenant Seresin has seeped into the doctor’s own bones. "So now please," a firmness laces his words, a command coming from a man who knows how this story is going to end unless something changes soon, "control your pilot or else there was no point in fishing this man out of the sea."

If Pete thinks the water outside was cold, it's nothing compared to the chill that freezes Maverick's blood as he takes in the medical professional's words. He knows CPR is being performed, he knows what that means but to have the terms of Jake's condition spelled out so blatantly, so transparent, it catches Pete off guard. He snaps his eyes over to his godson and shuffles towards him, his body feeling leaden, but determined.

"B-Bradley” Pete raises his hands in a nonthreatening matter but the minute he is close enough, the younger man is launching towards his captain, no doubt looking for an ally in his struggle. With a tight grip, Rooster yanks at the sodden straps of Mav’s flight suit, holding them with the same desperation that oozes from his tenor, “Mav-" he begs, the sound startling in its agony, "you have to- you have to stop him, he’s killing him!”

"Brad-"

"Please" Rooster's pupils are blown dark, scared in a way Maverick hasn't seen since the night Carole Bradshaw had passed and Bradley had clung to his godfather as he cried at the thought that the only parent he had left would leave him too. Pete had felt like someone punched him in the gut that night 18 years ago and he fares no better here. "Bradley it's okay" the older man swallows back the acidic taste of his uncertainty, for all he knows these precious seconds have already expired Seresin's chance of survival. "The doctor- he-he's helping okay?"

"NO!" the moment Rooster realizes his CO isn’t on his side, he starts to fight Mav’s hold as well. He pushes forward, furious in his attempt to get to the doctor still working on his wingman, injured leg be damned, fatigue forgotten. He fights with the frantic and uncoordinated moves of someone under the influence of drugs and Maverick can only assume that a head injury is the culprit of this level of confusion and rage. He can recognize enough of a bump on Bradshaw's head; a dazed cloudiness of mental incognizance meaning the pilot isn't all there right now. It makes Pete try to hold on tighter, willing the man in his grasp, who still feels like a young boy in his memories, to calm down and see that the fight with a tangible enemy is over now. The only battle left is for the man currently on the floor, his chest being pumped in a rhythm that's meant to scare death itself away.

The other man in the helicopter, Jones, his uniform declares, moves back into Maverick's field of vision, a syringe in his hand of an unknown concoction. Somewhere in the rational part of his mind Pete knows that this must be some kind of a sedative, that a subdued Bradley is ultimately the goal here, but the Captain can't even fathom allowing anything to stick Rooster's skin.

He only just got the kid back into his life, he'd be damned if anyone causes him anymore pain.

Jones still strides forward though, and before he can even raise the shot higher, Maverick is moving in, sliding between the two men and taking his godson's arms and vehemently trying to keep them pinned to the side. "I got him" he informs the rescue operative, repeating the phrase when the man looks unconvinced about stepping back. "I got him, now go do your job."

Pete pushes Rooster back towards the rear of the bird while Jones gives one last unsure look before he shuffles back over to the harness at the door instead. Within seconds the rope is being lowered once more, the last edict to be started before they can leave this hellish nightmare.

"Mav" Bradley's voice grating breathlessly snaps the older man's attention back to his charge, watching in baffled awe as despite all his pain and exhaustion, the kid still fights to get out of his Captain's grip with all the energy he can muster. "You don't- you don't get it-" Rooster's eyes widen almost impossibly large, imploring his Captain to understand, "his ribs- he can't- Jake's going to die!"

"Bradley-"

"His ribs were fractured!" the younger man explains wildly, the wet curls on his head bouncing with his emotions as still he fights to surge forward, "He told me, he was coughing blood! If he keeps pounding on them, he's going to kill him!"

"I'm not the one killing him here, you are!" the Hispanic doctor looks at the edge of his patience, barely taking his eyes off Seresin's chest as he continues his motions. In Maverick's arms, he can feel Bradley deflate, the constant push against his hold finally lessening. "W-What?" the kid blubbers stumbling backwards as though the other man's accusation hit him like physical blows.

Doctor Sosa's expression softens though his intensity in his CPR stays strong, "he needs more help than I can give him in this bird, you need to let us work." On the side of the helicopter Jones starts to lean over, no doubt helping the rescue swimmer up the last few feet. Sosa motions their way, "he could use a hand pulling him up. We get him in; we go back to the boat. That is what will help your wingman here okay? That’s his best shot at actually getting home alive at this point.”

Pete spares a glance at Rooster but the man is like a marionette with its strings cut as he leans against the back wall of the aircraft. Taking a risk, Maverick releases the hold on his Lieutenant, pleased when Bradley doesn't make a beeline for the Doctor and Seresin, but instead lowers down to the floor in an almost fetal position. Now free, Captain Mitchell hurries over to the edge of the door and offers his own hand to pull the last man up. Between him and Jones, the motion is fluid and quick, the swimmer inside and unstrapped within seconds.

For a moment Maverick stands suspended, in the center of complete and utter turmoil but without a sense of where to go or what to do. His entire life Pete had prided himself on his ingenuity and ability to think on his feet, to walk (or fly) into a situation and read it and act accordingly, but right here, right now, he feels a sense of helplessness that burns like fire. He stutters steps towards Hangman, drawn to the severity of the kid's predicament, but his movements are aborted from the sickening snap of what must be a rib bone and an exhausted huff from the Doctor.

"Wilkes!" the Hispanic man calls and suddenly the rescue swimmer is pushing past Pete to kneel on the other side of Seresin's prone form, the ocean water still dripping from his youthful face. "I'm here-" the man announces, discarding his helmet and life vest to give himself more room. “He was bradycardic in the water-“

“And his heart stopped completely once he got up here and I tried to take a look at his chest.” Sosa lays himself almost completely on top of Hangman’s body, his ear pressed against the prone man’s right pec, “Get the paddles.”

“I’m still wet-“ Wilkes argues halfheartedly, though still reaching for the equipment.

The Doctor sits up with a nod, “I know, just help me get them on him, I’ll pulse it.”

As the two work seamlessly, Pete can’t help but watch in a sort of mesmerized fog. The commanding officer in him wants to take charge, to demand answers on his pilot’s condition, to inquire on the success rates on these two men’s endeavors but the fearfulness of the harsh truths of this situation leaves him frozen and still. Behind Maverick, he can hear Jones approaching Bradley once more, and that finally snaps Pete out of it, spinning himself on his heels in a panic that Rooster might be in danger of sedation again. Instead, Jones is walking forward with a blanket and trying to cautiously wrap it around the drenched pilot. It is then that Pete notices how bad Bradley is shaking; no doubt the shivers being disguised by his angry tirade from before.

Maverick can’t help Hangman, if anything he will probably only get in the way, but he can help Bradley. The older man moves that way, helping guide the blanket the rest of the way over the sitting pilot, and throwing his arm around the man for good measure. “Bradley?” he questions, hoping to get some sort of reaction from the kid beside him.

Rooster’s eyes are forward, watching and trembling as Doctor Sosa announces the charging of the paddles and brings them down to Hangman’s chest. As Seresin’s body jumps, so does Bradshaw, the two men connected so completely after their harrowing experience. Despite the shock to his heart there is no change to Jake’s position and Pete feels a weight on his own chest at the implications. He suddenly wonders if Bradley is about to watch his wingman die, like he did with Goose 30 years ago.

“Charging 200,” Sosa lowers the paddles again, Rooster shaking in time with the impact on Jake. This time there is a beeping noise on the monitor before the doctor all but throws the medical devices away. “I got him back!” the man hollers, the relief evident in not only his tone but his posture. The reprieve is short lived though as a horrible retching sound fumbles from Jake’s slackened mouth and a torrent of red tinged liquid bubbles for his lips. “Shit!” the doctor curses, reaching over to flip Seresin onto his side. “Help me turn him, he's going to choke otherwise."

Wilkes assists immediately, the two men able to shift the injured pilot so the water flows down the side of Hangman’s right cheek and into a the puddle of ocean water laying stagnant on the aircraft’s flooring. The image of the blood looks something from a horror movie, Seresin’s movie star good looks tarnished by this stain of the precious liquid. When it finally stops pouring, the blonde is shifted back down again, Doctor Sosa’s stethoscope pressing along key points on his body. “Respirations are weak and breathy, he’s not getting enough oxygen” the medical jargon continues, though Sosa seems to be speaking mainly to himself rather than the audience. “He’s got a traumatic pneumothroax in the left ventricle, collapsed lung, I’m going to need to re-inflate.” Finally he looks over to his partner, “Chest tube and bag, now.”

“Sir” Wilkes acknowledges yanking for the medical bag and riffling through quickly. As he prepares that Sosa looks over to the other three occupants in the back of the helicopter, “His lung’s punctured” the doctor shares, moving to Hangman’s side and ripping the tattered remains of his flight suit away easily. Seresin’s normally tanned skin looks anything but, the flesh stretched taunt over his muscles with various shades of purple and blue bruising, scrapes and lacerations rippled down the exposed skin. A prickle itches at Pete’s eyes, the creation of watery tears beginning at the sight of abuse his pilot sustained. He chose Jake for this mission all those hours ago, put him in the position to sustain these injuries, put him at risk to succumb to them. Guilt churns in Maverick’s stomach and nausea threatens. The older man closes his eyes but still he sees that bruised torso haunting him.

Someone clears their throat and Pete looks up to see the Doctor trying to catch his eye. “You might-“ he hesitates, the first sign of uncertainty this qualified man has shown yet, “you shouldn’t watch this part” he finally warns before he turns back to his patient and reaches for his scalpel.

It’s sound advice but Pete is already sure he is going to ignore it. He owes it to Hangman, to Jake, to watch his back all the way through. It is Maverick’s penance for his actions on this mission, for not convincing Cyclone to send him instead, for sending these kids on a suicide mission and then leaving two of them behind.

But Mav’s penance isn’t Bradley’s and god knows the shaking and unfocused staring coming from the last living Bradshaw is freaking the Captain out enough. He shifts Rooster to turn away, jarring the Lieutenant’s injured leg enough that the kid manages to snap out of his daze and wince. “Hey Rooster” Pete speaks softly when the brunette’s eyes roam his surroundings. “Come on kid, let’s get you comfortable.”

“Jake-“ the pilot whispers, his fight gone as he allows Maverick and Jones too, to shuffle him in a half circle so his back is to the make-shift operating room occurring in the middle of their helicopter. Pete takes a gentle hand and swipes some of Bradley’s curls from his face, frowning at the few second hesitation it takes Rooster’s eyes to follow the movement. The younger pilot says nothing more, just stays huddle in the blanket facing the black paneling of metal and machinery. Pete keeps one hand on Rooster’s wrist, feeling the kid’s pulse as he turns back in time to see the scalpel in Doctor Sosa’s hand shine against the artificial light in the helicopter’s middle chamber. The Hispanic man takes one steadying breath before he leans down towards Jake’s left side and slices horizontally across the side of his chest. The incision isn’t exactly big but the minute the skin is cut, blood pours. It seems like an extraordinary amount but both Sosa and Wilkes seem composed, more composed than Maverick himself is feeling, so the older pilot resolves to stay quiet and stay watching. As the puddle under Hangman continues to grow, Pete feels lightheaded, convinced that the man is losing too much of the life saving liquid.

Doctor Sosa’s gloved hand reaches inside the slit and he looks to rummage around, causing more blood to squelch out. When he removes his hand, they are covered but despite the slick he is able to grasp the tube handed to him cleanly and throw his hand back inside with the equipment. Pete knows he is about a second from tossing his stomach contents yet again today but he manages to hold on, watching with as little senses as possible as the tube is fed out from the wound on Jake’s side and connected to a bag. Immediately the clear plastic starts to fill, a bubbling of more blood filling the contents rapidly. The medical staff exchanges looks and Maverick knows this isn’t good.

“Call the ship” Sosa orders loudly and it takes Pete a ridiculous amount of time to realize that the Doctor is calling out to the pilots of the helicopter. If Mav is honest with himself the adrenaline and drama of the past few minutes has made him forget that there were people on this bird besides the six men currently in various conditions of disarray in the middle of this aircraft. He forgot that there were people flying them home but now he sees as a man with a radio mic running from his ear to his mouth turns and sticks his head through the narrow console between the front and back of the bird. “Got command on the line” he informs them.

“Tell medical to stock up on blood. He’s going to need a transfusion immediately.”

“Copy” the co pilot turns, no doubt to relay the message, before he snaps back in their direction, “what type?” he questions.

Sosa reaches for the dog tags hanging limp around Seresin’s neck. His blood soaked hands make his grip challenging, leading a spattering of red to grace the indentation of Jake’s adam’s apple and the metal tags themselves. Once the Doctor gets a quick read he lets the necklace fall back down, “O positive” he informs, before moving to his next task.

Beside him, Pete can still feel Bradley shaking and he subconsciously shivers himself. Maverick knows his chill isn’t just from the water, but from what he has just witnessed and he knows that is true for Bradley too. He releases the kid’s arm, moving to bring him closer to the side when a voice stops him. “I got blue lips over here Doc” Jones is announcing, looking at Bradley as though he was a caged animal but still with care and concern. “He’s not warming fast enough.”

“Saline” the doctor announces suddenly, holding a hand out to the two forward pilots expectantly. Maverick’s not sure what he expects the two helicopter operators to do before they each seem to reach into their flight suits, producing the bags of clear liquid from inside. It’s certainly not a funny situation but the medical professional manages to scoff amusedly at the look of incredulousness on Pete’s face. “I made them stuff themselves before we left Captain” he explains as he hands a bag over to Jones before taking the other and leaning back over Seresin. He connects a line to the pack before attaching the other end to the IV he inserted in Hangman’s arm, “this water is freezing and you’re all borderline hypothermic. Warm saline solution is the safest way to slowly and safely get your temperatures ticking back up while we wait to get back to the carrier. And body heat” he pulls another bag from inside his own arm pit, “is a quick way to keep these bags toasty.”

Pete nods like he understands but really he is so far out of his element all he can do is watch. Turning back to Jones he sees the man reach for Bradley’s free arm, no sedation syringe anymore but instead an IV of Rooster’s own to help bring his body temperature up. The motions spur the younger man into a lazy reaction, shock and exhaustion finally having won out and preventing the injured pilot from offering any resistance. Once the saline bag is connected, Pete watches as both Sosa and Jones apply pressure to the top, squeezing the solution down to get it into the bloodstream of the downed wingmen faster. When Wilkes approaches Pete to begin the process with him, he has half a mind to refuse it, the saline is more precious for the boys than him, but a sharp glance from Doctor Sosa prevents Maverick from arguing.

“Sir” the co pilot turns around again, headset still on, “command wants to know if they should prep another bird for a medical evac to Lemoore-“

“Negative. He’s not making it to Lemoore” the Hispanic man answers back immediately. As though realizing his words he takes a second to look up at his other patients. “I’m sorry” he manages, and he does look it. “But the Lieutenant isn’t stable enough for that length of travel.”

“Is he-“ Pete swallows, but his mind is so numb he almost seems to forget how and starts to choke on his own tongue. Wilkes gives a few habitual pats to his back before Maverick is able to compose himself enough to try to speak again, “Is Seresin- is he going to make it?” the older man finally grits out.

The whole helicopter seems to go silent as they wait for Sosa’s answer, Pete feels like he doesn’t even hear the blades whirling anymore. Finally the Doctor sighs, looking down at his patient with a frown, “we did everything we could” he finally offers, nowhere near good enough to give Pete the peace of mind he craves so desperately. “Let’s just hope the Lieutenant keeps fighting” he shares, face grim and saying more than his words ever could.

There’s a hesitance when they land on deck. A crowd has formed, all the crew watching with baited breath to see if a celebration can finally occur. After they touch down and the engines of the helicopter are turned off and the blades begin to slow, the group comes closer, the anticipation of the final result of this suicide mission on the precipice. The door to the middle of the aircraft is open and every breath is held. One call from Doctor Sosa for more medical support and the plans for cheering are all scrapped. Instead a hushed silence befalls the carrier, the Daggers in the center of it all, waiting for their teammates with clingy tears and chanted prayers. Phoenix and Coyote are front and center, Machado still wearing his gear, no doubt having landed minutes before the helicopter. They each hold the other tightly like they were on the deck of the ship before Maverick took off, though both look more battle worn from the roller-coaster of emotions they been through in the last hour.

Javy’s eyes roam the length of the aircraft, frantic for anything he can see to give him the answers he so desperately need. Phoenix stands on her tippy-toes looking for a familiar mop of brown hair, the smallest of the group but tenacious, physically willing herself taller to get that first glance of her best friend.

A staff of doctors rush forward, bringing a stretcher and laying it on the floor of the helicopter. Wilkes and Sosa transport Hangman onto it immediately before snapping at the two men to get the injured man down to medical asap. They both follow behind the stretcher, sprouting off information and vitals at a rapid pace.

The second he catches a glimpse of his best friend, Javy moves to step forward but he is pushed aside as they take Seresin’s prone body into the bowels of the ship for surgery. Coyote scrunches into himself, sobs shaking his form as he lets out a guttural cry. Payback wraps a hand around the distraught man but even he seems shaken.

Rooster is helped out next, his leg preventing him from walking off himself and another doctor is called. Phoenix’s face turns green at first but the second she sees Bradley awake and mostly aware, she is crying too. Just as Maverick is assisted out of the helicopter he witnesses the woman stepping closer, Bob as dutifully as ever following on her heels. Natasha reaches out a hand for Rooster to grab and gives a watery smile as he finally manages to squeeze the digits back. The two share another look before Natasha is launching herself into Bradley’s arms, squeezing tightly. Despite the height difference Rooster manages to get his head to rest in the crook of the young woman’s neck, sniffling back his own sob as they hold each other for a instant.

Their moment is interrupted by the newest medical personal in their vicinity as they push for Rooster to get a wheelchair and proceed to medical. Nat nods in agreement, as do some of the other daggers who have closed ranks and surrounded their returned teammate but Bradley says nothing, instead just turning around looking for something. As Maverick comes closer, Rooster finally locks eyes on his godfather before looking away just as quick.

The Maverick of a week ago would have stepped away; afraid to overstep, to enrage Bradley or push him further away, but Pete is a changed man. He has lost too much, been hit with the threat of losing everything and he is tired of treading cautiously. He’s tired of being passive and apologetic in every interaction. Instead Maverick embraces his own feelings and wants and tugs impatiently at Bradley’s sodden flight suit until the younger man faces him. There is confusion on Bradshaw’s face but also that same look of fear from the helicopter. Pete makes sure the glassy brown eyes are on him before he speaks. “I’m taking you to medical” he tells the concussed and injured man in front of him, leaving absolutely no room for argument, “let’s go.”

“Mav-“ Bradley mumbles, and Pete prepares for the rejection, the anger, the pushback that has been his life for the past decade and a half when it’s come to Bradley Bradshaw. Miraculously though, in a day of incredibly feats, he gets one more. The curly haired brunette doesn’t push Mav away, instead he reaches for him. “I don’t-“ Rooster pauses, looks down at his leg dejectedly, “I don’t think I can walk” he admits turning back to Mav a little sheepishly.

Pete just shakes his head, feeling the rush of love he has held for this kid, his kid, bubble back to the surface. “That’s alright,” he soothes, shouldering the taller man’s weight despite the height difference. He slowly moves them towards the carrier’s med bay, his arms sturdy when Bradley almost trips and falls. “I got you Bradley" he speaks up, his breath almost hitching with how much those words are now going to be a promise for the rest of his life, "I got ya kid.”

#amazing!!! incredible!!! heartbreaking!!! heartmelting!!! all around wonderful!!!!!!#“I got ya kid.”#love this so much!!!#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #top gun: maverick #fic rec

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seresimp · 8 months

Text

Can't Let You Go

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: When you and Jake broke up, it hurt both of you more than you could handle. Now, after three months of barely seeing or speaking to one another, Jake walks in on the surprise of seeing you in a wedding dress, and it brings past memories and ruined dreams to the surface.

Notes/Warnings: it's a fluffy ending (despite how the summary makes it sound). maybe a bit angsty . There might be cursing. Jake smokes a cigarette. Bradley and Nat are together for this, but there's not much focus on it (sorry to those who find that unappealing).

Words: 1800

-----

What’s the worst that could happen?

That one question was how your bride-to-be best friend got you to squeeze yourself into a wedding dress. You’d protested, heavily, but the last thing you wanted was to snuff out her excitement. So you appeased her with a nod and a false smile and shuffled into a dressing room to do as she'd begged.

What compelled you to select a gown you actually liked was beyond you. You hadn’t wanted to try one on, too afraid of the emotional toll that had the possibility of rearing its ugly head, and yet you didn’t just grab the closest dress off of the nearest rack. You roamed the store until you discovered the one that made your heart skip a beat. A dress that caused your breath to catch as you imagined yourself walking down an aisle, to him.

As you looked yourself up and down, you felt the tears sprouting for the dream that never came to fruition. You couldn’t tear your eyes away until Nat shouted, “You have to come out. That's kind of the whole point, Hon.” So you did, stepping up onto the low pedestal.

Her eyes widened, her fingers moving to cover her lips. She stared for a long moment. “Oh my God,” she said with a sweet smile, “You look perfect.”

“Nat,” you sighed, “come on.”

“You do!”

“Thank you, but this is—” Silly, you were going to say. But the jingle of the boutique door's bell interrupted you.

From her seat on the suede couch, Nat’s eyes shot over your shoulder. Her face paled. A muttered ‘Fuck’ met your ears in the voice of her fiance.

With your brow pinched in confusion, you turned, the dress swishing at your feet with your sharp twist.

Two pairs of eyes were glued to you. One set—a rich, dark brown—was alight with shock; the other—mossy green and all too familiar—was filled to the brink with pain.

“Jake…” you tried, but he was out the door.

You found your hand reaching out the slightest in the direction he'd gone. As if you could graze your fingers over the fabric of his shirt and tighten it within your palm to pull him back to you.

After absorbing the moment, you hurriedly stepped off the pedestal and rushed into the changing room to strip yourself of the dress.

“You didn’t tell me she was coming to your fitting,” you heard Bradley attempt to whisper.

“Well, you didn’t tell me you were bringing Jake along to pick me up,” Nat countered. You could practically see the irritation on her face, her arms crossed in defense and foot tapping loudly against the tile.

“He didn’t want to be alone. Today marks three months since they—”

Nat shushed him as you pulled back the curtain, reclothed in your jeans and t-shirt. “Hon,” she started, taking a step toward you, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was coming.”

“I know. It’s ok,” you assured her before flicking your eyes to Bradley. “Which way did he go?”

“Right,” he didn’t hesitate to say, and you nodded.

“Thank you.”

—--

The boutique stood alone on the street, nothing flanking it and thankfully making it evident with one quick glance that Jake, had he attempted to make a run for it, wouldn’t be able to get far. You didn’t see him, so there was only one other option.

When you rounded the building, you found him leaning against the brick wall, his head tilted slightly upward, his eyes closed, as he blew out a breath of smoke. The cigarette trapped between his fingers wiggled from his shaking hand.

Sensing your presence, like he’d always managed to do, he said, “Please tell me you didn’t get engaged three months after we broke up.”

You walked up to his side and copied his stance. “Of course not.” When he didn’t follow up with more, you continued. “I thought you quit.”

Jake finally opened his eyes to glance down at the cigarette. “I quit for you,” he said before taking another drag.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest.

You’d always worried about him, long before you even got together. His job, his emotions, his habits. His job you couldn’t change, but his emotions and the habits that came with them, you could help. You’d been there for him, and he for you. Yet, it didn't occur to you that he would find himself revisiting past obstacles without you by his side. It should’ve. You should’ve pushed through any discomfort or awkwardness between you to be there for him. You should have been better.

“Jake…”

He released another stream of smoke, the quiet act somehow effectively cutting you off. “I’m not back on ‘em. Just one here or there…” he flicked his index finger to knock off the ashes, “to calm me down.”

Beats passed. How many, you couldn’t say. All you knew was that not so much silence had filled the bubble around the two of you since you were left spent and hurt after the blow up of ending your relationship. Though, in truth, you hadn’t been near each other enough in the past few months for the possibility of that situation to present itself.

“I didn’t expect to see you,” he suddenly said, “and the dress kind of…threw me.”

“Nat made me.”

With a snort, he said, “Figures.”

More agonizing silence dragged painful memories to the surface. The tears, the shouts, the pleading and apologies from the day that continued to haunt you.

“Jake.”

He hummed.

“I think we need to find a way to exist in the same space. It’s too difficult to try to work around one another when it comes to our friends and the places we frequent in town. I understand that you don’t want to be with me, but—”

“Me?” he snapped, head whipping in your direction. The blaze in his eyes seared the shock in yours, yet his tone maintained a calmness that, when accompanying his words, felt more eerie than anything. “I don’t want to be with you? You’re the one who ended us. You told me you were leaving, and then you didn’t even go.”

Your head fell and you began to pick at your fingernail. “Would you have preferred I left?”

“I would’ve preferred if you stayed my girlfriend.”

Looking up, you asked, “What changed your mind?”

A flash zipped across the green of his irises. “What are you talking about?”

“A week after we broke up, I chose not to go,” you said. “I wanted to be with you more than I wanted that job. I went to your house to tell you, but you weren’t there, so I went to the bar.” A hard swallow at another memory failed to relieve the aching lump in your throat. “I found you kissing some woman and I realized you’d already moved on.”

Jake took careful breaths—one too many for your liking—before letting out a soft chuckle. It held no humor. He shook his head.

"I didn't move on."

"Jake, I saw you."

"She kissed me," he said. "I told her it wasn't going to happen, then went home and drank myself stupid trying not to think of you." His eyes tore away from yours to stare ahead. And with a pinched brow, he shook his head once again as he tossed the remaining nub of the cigarette into a nearby trash can. "I did not succeed, I should add. So, no, I didn't move on. I can't even imagine trying."

You were overwhelmed with an array of emotions, each of them warring, mixing chaotically. Waves of relief crashed into the shame lingering from the day you fought. They churned with the pain you'd yet to let go of after seeing someone else kissing the man you love. There was a tick of embarrassment from the, now very clear, misunderstanding between you. But it was the cautious joy that overpowered it all.

"You still love me?" You said softly.

A low laugh rumbled in his chest.

"That's funny?"

"No, baby, I just—" he paused then brushed his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I never thought I'd have to answer a question like that."

Your lips parted, ready to ask why such a simple question from you was practically stumping him, but he was one step ahead.

"I was always trying to prove how much I love you. Every single day I made sure of it. And I'd hoped I showed it well enough that you'd never need to ask," he said. A light shrug of his shoulders—barely noticeable, yet far from nonchalant—followed. "But here we are."

Without a thought to stop yourself, you reached up to cup his cheek, drawing his eyes back to yours.

"Jake, I didn't question it. I knew you loved me," you swore. "But I ruined things, and feelings can change."

As if understanding your immediate uncertainty that bloomed from your sudden touch, Jake wrapped his fingers around your wrist before you could dare to withdraw it back to your side.

"Not mine," he said. Then quieter: "Never mine."

The fresh rawness of his stare, of his tense brow, and softly parted lips, broke your heart. He looked ready to fall to his knees and weep at your feet. He looked how you had felt for months. Like standing, breathing, putting one foot in front of the other, was not easily done. Since you’d left him, nothing had been natural. Nothing came easy. Living life was a chore. And seeing Jake release it all in front of you with his desperation and devastation clear as day, allowed you to do the same.

Your palm fell to his chest. Jake brushed an escaped tear from the corner of your mouth, then rested his forehead against yours.

"It's ok," he whispered. "It's gonna be ok."

"I still love you," you said between sniffles.

With a heavy exhale, his whole body eased out of its rigidity. "I love you, too."

"Would…” you started but paused, unsure if your question would be your final strike. But you couldn’t stop the pounding in your heart, nor deny the need you had for Jake. So, despite the shake in your voice, you pressed on. “Would you take me back?"

Your eyes were closed, but you could sense his smile. Then he said:

"Baby, I never let you go."

---

A/N: it's been a minute since I posted any writing here. Sorry about that. But I'm working my way along my life and hopefully, you guys liked this :)

Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi

#my goodness!!!#my heart!!!#this is so beautiful!!!#“Baby I never let you go.”#<- awww my heart!!!#so good!!!#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #fic rec

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