🏳️‍🌈?

Anyone can tell you I have been waiting for @nicedaybucky to open up their commissions, and boy howdy am I so fucking delighted with the work they've done TT^TT

This is a commission based on the last scene of Chapter 1: An Awkward Introduction from my fic I'll Be Home for Christmas (And I'll be Making it Your Problem). I couldn't have asked for a better piece to add to the fic and to really capture the laid-back vibes of Bradley and the "who does this guy think he is" fluster from Jake.

Please go send Bucky your love for the absolutely stunning work they've done here!

Idle Hands | Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin/Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Idle Hands.  Summary: The promise of not having to eat mess hall chow leads to consensual breaking and entering. Homemade pasta, white wine, and kisses. One shot 1,439 words. Slash Warnings: None.  Notes: For the TGM fic exchange. A humble attempt at Hangster. Likes are appreciated, comments and sharing are absolute gold. Thank you so much for reading. I appreciate it so much and it means the most. 

“Hey Bradshaw,” Jake is sprawled out on the bunk opposite him. “You got anything planned today?” He’s quiet for a few minutes, before putting his book down on his chest. “What do you have in mind, Hangman?” He tips his head to regard the man who was focused on him. “Something other than laying around the barracks all day.” Jake sits up, a silver key ring dangling from his fingers. “I want to cook, I’m tired of mess hall chow.” “Who’s keys are those?” Bradley sits up, intrigued at the possibilities that Hangman’s offering. “Nat’s. Her and Bob are renting a place. She’s out with Halo, and Bob’s watching the Star Trek films with Fanboy.” “That’s somewhere I don’t want to be.” Bradley chuckled. Fanboy and Bob would often get into spirited ‘debates’ over which of the space operas were better, Star Wars or Star Trek. “Wait, you stole Nat’s keys?” “Technically, they’re Bob’s, they fell out of his pocket in the locker room.” The key jingles as Jake spins it around his finger. “Come on, I miss being in the kitchen, you like to eat, and we’ll leave leftovers as a peace offering.” “You’ve put a lot of thought into this plan, considering you’re assuming I’m in on it.” “Come on, you’re just as bored as I am Bradshaw. You’ve been reading the same page for half an hour.” Jake’s grin is genuine and real, dimples on display as the full force is turned on him. Bradley drops his gaze a little uncertain with the flutter in his stomach. Bradley knew it was just due to proximity, and seeing each other every hour of every day, but that grin made him weak—though he was loathe to admit it. “You’re not wrong.” He gets to his feet. “Come on then.” Jake nearly springs from the bed, grabbing his keys and wallet. “I have an Instacart order showing up at their place,” he looks at his phone. “It’ll be there when we get there.” The drive to Phoenix’s place is pretty enough and they’re pulling up to a gray rambler with a brilliant yellow door. The walkway is an explosion of flowers, the riotous color and sweet smell going to Bradley’s head. Jake turns when he’s halfway up the walk, sunlight illuminating him with a brilliant glow. That smile hits him again, and Bradley’s heart nearly stops in his chest. “Come on, Bradshaw, they’ll be back before we know it.” Bradley picks up the last grocery bag, following Jake inside. The house was clean and well lived in, and once again he was thinking about his choice of staying in the barracks rather than finding space of his own. Though, bunking with Jake wasn’t all that bad. He follows the other man into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Jake makes himself at home. The blond had retrieved an apron from somewhere, tying it around his waist, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows, and beginning to unpack bags. “So, what are you making?” “Hand cut tagliatelle, with spicy Italian sausage, spinach with an alfredo sauce.” Jake is scrubbing his hands, before drying them on the apron. “Do me a favor and open that bottle of wine.” Bradley reaches for the bottle of white wine, opening it, pouring some into the glasses that Jake places in front of him. One is offered to him, and he takes it, a shock running through him when his fingers brush Jake’s. He’s acutely aware of the fact that he’s never truly been alone with Jake. Sure, they bunked together, but they intersected in the shared space only in the morning and evenings. Their days were spent with the rest of the group, or in the air. Jake moves around the kitchen the same way he does everything else, effortlessly, deliberate. “If you’re not going to talk to me,” that grin is back on his face, “then turn on some music.” “I don’t want to distract you.” Bradley says. Jake tips flour onto the countertop, making a well and cracking eggs into it, and another egg yolk. “If I wanted to avoid distraction, I wouldn’t have invited you.” He tosses a wink Bradley’s way, and he can’t help but mirror the way Jake smiles again. “You think I’m distracting?” Bradley leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re the second best looking in the group.” “I suppose you’re the first?” “You tell me.” Jake flicks flour Bradley’s way. He licks his lower lip, mouth dry, the wine doing nothing to sate the discomfort. “You know you are.” Bradley blinks noticing the stain of red that appears on sharp cheek bones. Jake’s attention very focused on the olive oil he’s adding to the blob of pasta dough. It’s almost cute, which is a word one wouldn’t use to describe one Jake Seresin, but in this situation, it worked. “This needs to rest.” Jake mutters more to himself, draping a kitchen towel over the ball of dough. He washes his hands again. “What are you looking at Bradshaw?” “You,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve seen you happy before.” It was the simplest way to describe the easy grin, the way Jake’s shoulders are relaxed, the ease he moves around the kitchen. He notices that Jake’s hand fumbles the wine glass when he sets it down. “Am I really a distraction?” Another slow spread of red, across Jake’s cheeks, down his neck. “Everything else is a distraction. It interrupts my thoughts about you.” Bradley sets his own glass down, walking around the island. Jake’s throat bobs as he swallows, looking down at the marble surface, brushing invisible flour from it. Bradley hesitates only for a moment, letting his hand rest on top of Jake’s. “What sort of thoughts?” There’s a moment where Bradley doesn’t know where he’s at, just that the edge of the counter is digging into the small of his back, Jake’s hands are in his hair, and his lips are parting under the slow drag of Jake’s tongue against his lower lip. His own hands find purchase on Jake’s hips, pulling the other man closer, flush against him. The sound Jake makes goes straight through him, the kiss deepening. Bradley groans against Jake’s mouth when those nimble fingers pull just right on his hair. Warm, open-mouthed kisses trail down his neck Jake’s tongue lingering on the scars he finds. “Better than I imagined.” There’s a softening of his words, the drawl more pronounced. Hands sneak under the hem of Bradley’s t-shirt, palms skimming up the flat of his stomach. Jake’s pulling away hurriedly, Bradly blinking a little fuzzy headed. The absence of Jake’s warmth against him makes him shiver. Green eyes flicker toward the door, and there’s the sound of conversation, getting closer. Natasha and Bob cross the threshold. “Told you that was Seresin’s truck.” Bob says. “Boys,” Natasha grins easily, dark eyes flickering between the two of them. “What’s going on?” “Jake-Jake’s cooking.” Bradley steps back to safety, the other side of the island, next to Bob. “What are you making Hangman?” “Pasta, and plenty of it.” Jake starts rolling out the dough into thin sheets. “Start a pot of water and toss some salt into it. “Bobby, grab a cutting board and start dice the sausage.” “Let the man loose in the kitchen…” Bradley mutters. “You want to finish that sentence Bradshaw?” Jake points at him. “Insult the cook and I’ll order you McDonald’s.” He turns away, and starts messing with a pan on the stove, the smell of onions and garlic beginning to cook filling the air. There’s an ease between the four of them, Bob’s cracking terrible jokes, Natasha’s laughing so hard there’s no sound coming out except for the occasional snort. Jake’s singing along with the old country song on the radio, terribly off key as he cooks. There’s the sound of footsteps, and Payback and Fanboy enter the kitchen to a riotous noise. Silverware clatters, Mickey setting the table, Reuben’s spinning Natasha around the kitchen. An ache settles in Bradley’s chest—a warm familiar ache that somehow, doesn’t hurt this time.  Bob’s trying to sneak a handful of parmesan cheese into his mouth, only to be chased away by Jake brandishing a wooden spoon chasing the lanky WSO away from the cheese. “You were right.” Jake startles slightly, “What do you mean?” “I was bored,” Bradley murmurs, one arm dropping around Jake’s waist. “And this smells better than mess hall chow.” “Damn straight it does.” Just for the briefest of moments, Jake leans against him once more. “Now go sit, lunch is ready.”

 ------- Tagging in: @ratcatcher2world @shadeds-library @lt-natrace @blue-aconite @writercole @hoe-on-the-range @hederasgarden @callsign-phoenix @therebeccaw @sailorscuttle @imjess-themess @jostystyles​ @iloveprettyboysblog​  @evansrogerskitten @marvelandotherfandomimagines @mayhem24-7forever​ @green-socks​ @mandylove1000​

kind of crying thinking about rooster being deployed somewhere far, far from jake and they don’t have their own place yet, so whenever someone asks about rooster’s home he simply answers with jake’s current location cause “home is where the heart is, so home is where he is”

LMAO

Look, I love Rooster and Hangman's dynamic as much as the next person, but all y'all out there trying to compare those two with Ice and Mav, with Rooster being Mav and Hangman being Ice, are getting your similarities all backwards.

If Rooster and Hangman resemble Mav and Ice in ANY way, it’s with Hangman in the Mav role (albeit more of an antagonistic dickhead) and Rooster in the Iceman role (albeit with a few more personal hangups). Hangman is the loner, the hotshot, the pilot willing to sacrifice his fellow team members if it means getting the mission done, and Rooster is the team player, a brilliant pilot with an analytic mind, but who also thinks too much up in the air.

Hangman is the one who learns to be a team player (just like Mav in the first film) and that being the best means more than just being the fastest or getting credit for a mission – it means making sure everyone on your team makes it back. And Rooster is the one who learns to not overthink things (just like Ice in the first film) and to trust his training and his gut more and to improvise.

(Also, Hangman riles Rooster up just because he can, not because he’s trying to push Rooster into becoming a better pilot (which is what Ice was doing with Mav in the first film). Which is another difference. And Hangman & Rooster clearly have a lot of bad blood between them, whereas Ice & Mav were strangers. But that’s a post for another time. :D)

west coast; hangman & rooster

Thinking about how Jake would call Bradley "baby" as a pet name has me going absolutely feral.

Not to mention all of the different ways he can say it and the context of when he uses it.

Just imagine them waking up next to each other and Jake's usually unheard southern accent slips out when he utters, "Morning, baby," because it's still early and he hasn't had time to adjust quite yet.

Or when he gleefully shouts, "Hey, baby!!" from across the room when he sees Bradley again for the first time after either one of them has been away on an assignment.

And of course, when they are in the heat of the moment and Jake pants out, "Yeah, baby, right there, that's the spot."

Yeah. 😌😍

Bradley is Jake's baby for now and for forever. ❤️

The rooster x hangman tag is finally working on ao3 😭

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Top Gun (Maverick) - E - Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin

(If you want an explanation for this, I'm sorry I simply do not have one. It's 4.5 hours, my laptop and a fandom I've never written in. Truly some of my worst work.)

Bradley loves the push and the pull of Jake Seresin. He loves the snarky comments and the devil-may-care attitude and the way that the Hangman-mask gets peeled back, exposing the softer, caring, fiercely loyal man beneath. He loves the way that the Hangman-smile dissolves into the Jake-smile – the one that’s just for Bradley – the one that he wants to bottle up and hold onto forever. He loves Jake’s loud, unguarded laugh and the way he calls Bradley ‘sweetheart’ and the pretty, vulnerable sounds he makes when he’s being taken apart.

He loves the way Jake sometimes takes control, but is also okay to give it up. He loves the trust between them and the way that they’re so attune to each other's needs. Whether it’s the biting back and forth or the sweet, syrupy words of affirmation; whether it’s Bradley being railed to within an inch of his sanity, or Jake writhing on the sheets underneath him. 

He loves all of those things dearly. He also loves Jake’s smart mouth, and its extensive array of skills.

Read on ao3

these barbies are gay!

Here for the Show

Fandom: Top Gun

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Rating: E

Summary: Bradley commissions his favorite OnlyFans user for a personal video.

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In Vain || Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw/Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

In Vain Summary: Jake looses a bet, and Bradley reassures.  678 words Hangster.  Warnings: Fluff. Notes: Just a little one shot for @jakeseresins​ . Likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs fuel my muses. Thank you so very much for reading, it’s so appreciated, and means the most.  **Tag lists are no longer, please follow and turn on notifications for @wbslibrary​ **

Jake wipes the mirror free of condensation, scowling at his reflection. He rubs a hand over his head, feeling the strangely soft prickle of the buzz cut—it had been stupid to put his hair up as a wager in a bet against Bob of all people.

Plied with alcohol and buzzing with the happiness of being home, led to one very stupid decision. The other man had offered to adjust the terms, after Jake had lost, but his word was his bond and there was no going back. He makes another face at his reflection, lathering up shaving cream, clearing his face of three day’s growth. He didn’t look bad, his eyes seemingly greener as they stared back at him. He had been overseas in Satan’s armpit for six months, and the California summer was a blessed relief. Vanity was one of two cardinal sins that Jake claimed. He steps out of the bathroom, steam escaping with him, dressed in a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt that may or may not have originally belonged to the man currently in his bed. Bradley looks up from the book in his lap, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Is that my shirt?” Jake shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed, before he’s curling around Bradley. “It was in my drawer, so it's mine.” “I don’t think that’s how that works.” Bradley sets the book on the bedside table, attention turning to Jake. “What’s going on? You don’t look happy.” “I’m in mourning.” Jake mutters, face pressed to Bradley’s chest. The other man is warm and comfortable and smells like home. A large hand settles on his back, trailing up and down slowly as Bradley rubs his back. “Bob did say you didn’t have to go through with it.” “It was a bet, Bradshaw.” Jake drawls. “A man honors his word.” “We’re to last names now?” Bradley chuckles softly. “Baby, it’ll grow back.” “Yeah, but it looks bad now.” Jake presses closer, feeling Bradley shift under him, pulling him closer. The distance had been particularly hard this time, since the time difference made it difficult to connect, and for most of the deployment Jake was in a communication black-out. “I like it.” Jake snorts, mouth finding the curve of Bradley’s neck. He kisses over the marks he left the night before, sucking lightly at a spot just below Bradley’s ear. “You’re just saying that.” A large hand smooths over the back of his neck, Bradley’s fingers rubbing over the Jake’s short hair. A slow shiver works down his spine at the touch, eyes closing when Bradley’s fingers rub at his scalp. “Are you purring?” “Maybe,” Jake lifts his head from Bradley’s neck, eyes half lidded, intoxicated by touch. “You really do like it don’t you?” “It’s soft.” Bradley murmurs, kissing Jake’s forehead. “Kind of tickles.” “Your mustache tickles.” Jake rolls his eyes and drops his head back to Bradley’s shoulder. “You know,” Bradley’s voice is low, relaxed, tipping his head to nuzzle against Jake’s hair; “that you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on.” Jake snorts. “You’re also a good man.” Bradley’s lips press a kiss to the crown of Jake’s head. “Even when I eat the last cookie?” Jake chuckles softly. “Or shave my head because of a bet?” “I’m not talking about your hair, Jake.” Bradley continues, “I’m talking about that smile you get that completely brightens your face when you one up Nat when you two get those word games going. How you sing off key when you think I’m not paying attention.” Another kiss lands on the top of his head. “It’s always been you for me, Jake. Not your looks, not your service record. May have taken me a little while to figure it out.” Bradley’s hand takes one of Jakes, interlacing their fingers together. “I’ll take you however I can have you.” Jake brings their joined hands to his mouth kissing scarred knuckles. “Stop,” he says gently. “You’ve made your point, now shut up and kiss me.” /end

guys what songs would be on hangman’s and/or roosters breakup playlist?

Title: You Can Never Have Too Many

Author: Alidravana

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Ship: Rooster/Hangman

Length/Rating: <1.4K, Teen

Tags: Supportive Friends, Supportive Boyfriend, Getting to Know Each Other, Family Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Bradley's Hawaiian Shirts, Suggestive Themes

Summary:

The three times Bradley's Hawaiian shirts were defended and the one time they didn't need to be.

My entry for Day 4 of the @flufftober: Supporting Silly Quirks/Hobbies.  Thanks to the wonderful @sugaredmayhem for editing!

Hope you all enjoy my first fic in the TGM fandom!

Please enjoy reading (here on A03)!

bro the fic i'm writing for rooster/hangman is actually good

boasting about my own writing, but my ideas and style is actually good for once