#jake “hangman” seresin
Text
Hurricane
Request: I was wondering if I could request a fic after Hurricane by Luke combs??? - Anon
Summary: Jake comes back to Texas for his sister's wedding where is greeted by an old flame and a new spark.
Warnings: swearing, kissing, wedding, you wear a purple bridesmaids dress, use of Y/N.
Word Count: 1.2k
AN: This took so much longer than it should have! I greatly apologize for the wait! I am not sure if this was what you were looking for Anon, but this really got me back in the writing sprit. I hope you enjoy!
As always feedback is always appreciated! Please don't repost my work!
《 m.list || ao3 》
Jake grabbed another cup of coffee as his phone rang. He pulled it out to see that it was a facetime call from his sister, Jen.
Oh, shit the dress…
He answered the call, greeted giggling and a black screen. “Hello?”
“Jess found the perfect dress!” his mother practically screamed into the phone.
Jake couldn’t help the smile on his face, excited for his youngest sister’s wedding.
“Jake, you will not believe how perfect it is,” Jen’s voice rang out.
“Well, are you going to show me or am I just gonna stare at a black screen?”
“Mom, give me the phone.” He was quickly met with the view of his sister in her white gown. It suited her style and personality perfectly.
“Okay what do you think? You see the dress, right?” the youngest Seresin gave a twirl.
“Yeah, I see, and you look beautiful, sis.”
Jess grabbed the phone from her sister’s hand and turned it so he could see her face. “You see how happy and excited I am.”
Jake gave her a slightly confused look “Yes… where are you going with this, Jess?”
“All this to say that I don’t want to freak you out but… I invited Y/N and she’ll be the second in my wedding party next to Jen. David wanted you to be the second groomsmen next to his brother and all of this is to say that you and Y/N would be paired when walking down the aisle. And I know you two have a past but she’s my best friend and it’s been years and- “
“Jessica!” Jake cut her off before she could spiral completely, overthinking every decision she's made to this point. “It’s okay. She’s your best friend. If she’s fine with it, I’m fine with it.” Jake gave her a smile that assured her that everything would be okay.
That conversation was months ago, and it was just hitting Jake now, as his plane was about to land in Austin that not only would he have to see you, but you would be partnered with him for his little sister’s wedding.
Before he knew it, he was standing in the wings of the chapel watching as David prepared to walk down the aisle to take his place. He had yet to see you, somehow avoiding it until the very last minute. He watched as the other bridesmaids and groomsmen made their way into the center and down the aisle before he was greeted with the sight of you. You were breath taking, hardly changing since the last time he saw you. The lilac dress hugged your curves and fit perfectly. A gentle wind from the open doors blew through your hair.
In a flash every memory he had ever shared with you came rushing back.
When you looked up to meet his gaze you could feel your cheeks become warm. He was just as handsome as you remember. You were met with his signature smile and couldn’t help but let your eyes linger over his body. His tailored suit emphasized his muscles, ones that had been their prior but had become more prominent during his time with the Navy.
You stepped towards one another and placed your arm through his before making your way to the front of the chapel.
He leaned his head ever so slightly towards you, “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look so bad yourself, Lieutenant.”
Jake had to stifle a laugh at your comment.
Once at the altar, you removed your arm from his and he watched as you took your place.
Jake couldn’t take his eyes off you the entirety of the ceremony. You tried your best to pay attention and watch as your best friend married the love of her life, but you couldn’t help stealing quick glances and thinking back to the memories you shared with Jake. The man you thought at one point was the love of your life, and at times, like right now, still believed that might be true.
You always believed Jake Seresin was your 'one that got away.' The two of you had dated in high school before reluctantly and amicably breaking up after you got accepted into college and Jake got accepted into the Naval Academy.
After the wedding you found yourself walking around the reception before resting your eyes on Jake, who was sitting at the bar drinking a whiskey on ice. He looked up from his glass to be greeted with the sight of you.
Before you knew what was happening you found yourself taking the seat next to him and ordering your drink of choice.
The two of you found yourselves talking about everything, your work, the navy, the wedding. Neither of you could help it as the conversation turned to the two of you and how things used to be.
As the reception came to a close and people began to part ways, Jake turned to you. “Need a ride home?”
You took barley a moment to think about the offer, “yeah… that would be great. Thank you.”
After saying your goodbyes, the two of you made your way towards his truck. He opened the door and offered you his hand to help you steady yourself. Once you were seated, he gathered any remanence of your dress and placed it beside you before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.
The 30-minute drive back to your house was spent in silence except for the soft sounds coming from the radio.
Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind
Baby, without warning…
Halfway through the drive, it had started to gently rain. But, right as he pulled into your gravel driveway it began to pour.
Just as you were about to put your hand on the door, Jake placed his hand gently on your shoulder. “Put this on.” He handed you his suit jacket before running out and making his way to the passenger side door. You quickly put his jacket on before he opened the door.
“Jake what are you doing?” He smiled helping you down from the truck before scooping you up into his arms carrying you up the driveway and onto the porch. “You idiot, you’re soaked!”
He gently set you down, “I couldn’t have you running up your gravel driveway in heels in the rain.” He gently removed a soaked strand of hair off your cheek. “Knowing you, you would have fallen flat on your face.” His hand lingered on your soft skin that was bringing back a flood of memories.
You stared into his eyes; they held a sense of longing. Before you knew it your arms were wrapped around his neck and your lips were on his. His lips were warm and soft, bringing you a sense of familiarity you had thought to be long forgotten.
He was the first to pull away ever so slightly, resting his forehead against yours, “I missed you… I thought I was okay but seeing you today… Y/N you hit me like a hurricane. I have never stopped loving you and I never want to let you go again.”
You pulled him in closer, arms wrapping around him, resting your head against his chest, “Then don’t.”
“But I have to go back to base and-”
Before he could spiral, you kissed him again, then every so slightly pulled away to look him in the eyes, “did you mean it when you said you never stopped loving me?”
His eyes said it before the words came from his lips, “With everything I have.”
“Then we’ll figure it out.”
Tags: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern
As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜!
#jake “hangman” seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#fanfiction#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun#anon request#no beta we die like men
210 notes
·
View notes
Text
Posting my Glen Powell painting because IT WILL BE HUNG IN A GALLERY!!!! 😌😌 I got the confirmation today and I'm STOKED!!!
#jake “hangman” seresin#glen powell#top gun maverick#top gun#jake hangman seresin#top gun hangman#artist#art#gouache painting#gouache on paper#gouache
178 notes
·
View notes
Note
can i request a jake baby blurb, just him gushing over you during a navy ball
you loved the navy ball, it was probably one of the only times you could dress up. jake argued that you could wear formal dresses anytime so he wouldn't have to go.
this year, it had been after jake's promotion to lieutenant commander. you had been getting ready for hours, jake thought, he was ready in about 30 minutes.
"doll, we're gonna be late!" he yelled into the bathroom, "we can't be late."
"i'm coming, i'm coming." finishing up your makeup, you came out of the bathroom, immediately going to the mirror to make sure everything looked perfect.
jake was stunned, frozen in his spot, looking at you.
"okay." you smiled, turning to see jake looking at you, his eyes soft, and a small smile on his face, "what?"
"you look.." god he couldn't even explain it. "gorgeous, doll, gorgeous, i don't we need to go, we can just stay in."
"really?" you raised an eyebrow.
"yup." he nodded his head, "I wanna keep you to myself."
#fi's baby blurbs#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x fem!reader#jake seresin x girlfriend!reader#jake seresin x wife!reader#jake sersin#jake “hangman” seresin#hangman x reader#jake “hangman” seresin x reader#top gun#top gun: maverick
314 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Loved You Like The Sun
For @mapled-penitentiary
Summary:
Rooster always knew his dads had a love for planes, he just didn’t expect Maverick to own a goddamned warplane or a hangar for that matter
Rooster
Bradley had had his suspicious when Maverick gave him and the rest of the Dagger’s his house location– which turned out to be in the middle of a goddamn desert. He double checked google maps as he pulled up. He looked around at the almost completely baren landscape and the seemingly worn and unused hangar before feeling a rush of relief in his chest as he spotted Hangman’s ute and Phoenix’s jeep off to the side of the tarmac. He quickly exited his bronco, slung his trusty duffle over his shoulder before he made his way over to the crowd of confused aviators.
“Bradshaw!” Phoenix called, a touch of relief to her tone, “Do you know where the hell we’re meant to go?” Bradley strolled up to them, finding that more than half of them had their phones in their palms and were gawking intensely at google maps. “Why would I?” He questioned, his brows furrowed.
“Trusty Bradshaw, as usual.” Hangman snarked, leaning over Javy’s shoulder as the pilot scrolled. Bradley’s eyelid twitched. “God damn it, I think he gave us the wrong address.” Fanboy moped, slumping as Payback nodded solemnly. “That would explain how we’re all here,” Bob muttered, taking a look at their surroundings just as Rooster had.
Bradley narrowed his eyes, he knew Maverick had some brain damage problems– but to muck up his own address? That was a new skill. But they were all definitely in the right state– Maverick had been there with them as they purchased the tickets after all. He let his duffle slip off his shoulder slightly as he reached into his jeans to fish out his phone. Without a shred of hesitation, he clicked on the old man’s icon.
“Everyone shut up!” Phoenix shouted as the dial tone rung out. Everyone immediately shut up as Maverick answered.
/Hey kid, you get into the state alright?/ Maverick’s bubbly voice asked from the other side. Bradley didn’t miss the awwing noises the other aviators made.
“Yeah Mav, we all made it alright.”
/Oh that’s good! When will you be arriving?/
“Uh… Mav about that.”
/… are you alright now? No accidents?/
“No, no!” Bradley was quick to reassure, “No, no not at all, we’re all in perfect health. It’s just, we think you may have given us the wrong address.”
/Odd. You wanna run the address through me now?/ Maverick offered. Fanboy took that as a cue to rat out the address they all had present in their phones. An amused chuckle filtered through from the other side.
“Something amusing, Pops?” Hangman asked, looking sour.
/Kind of you to ask, Lieutenant. Yes, there is something I am finding incredibly amusing/
“I knew it,” Bob whined, throwing his head back, “We got the wrong address.” Bradley resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, already feeling the dread of another long, tiresome car drive coming up.
/Gimme a sec, aviators/ Maverick said, a huff accompanying his words. Bradley stared at the phone as did his fellow pilots. What on Earth was the Captain doing? Had he forgotten his address and had it written down somewhere else? What startled the living shit out of him was that the doors to the rusty, old hangar creaked open. Fanboy startled and the rest of them stared in blatant horror.
What was in there?
“Morning aviators!” A familiar voice chortled from inside the hangar. Bradley’s phone nearly clattered to the ground along with his jaw. Leaning on the now open door was Maverick, in a white tee and a pair of blue denim jeans, and he was slathered in grease. None of the Daggers standing abreast with him moved nor twitched– they were almost like statues, which Bradley imagined was extremely fitting.
Maverick’s beaming smile never faltered. “What, you not comin’ in? Well, I guess it’s hot today, young people still like to tan right?” He asked, mirth dripping from his tone. Phoenix – to no one surprise – was the first to recover. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir, what uh, what exactly is this?” Maverick’s smile dipped a little as he leaned out and looked up at the hangar, “It’s an old United States Navy hangar. Can’t you read?”
Bradley didn’t know what to say (he was not gifted in having a speedy reaction time like Natasha), he didn’t even know what to do. How long exactly had Maverick had this place? And how long had he been alone for? In the middle of fucking nowhere, in an old decommissioned hangar? At least… he hoped it was decommissioned.
“With all due respect, Sir, this– wasn’t exactly what we had in mind.” Payback spoke up unsurely. “Oi, don’t judge just yet, aviators, you haven’t even seen inside.” Bradley stifled a groan at that– did he even want to see inside? The first to move was Bob and Fanboy, with the latter of the two looking far more intrigued than five minutes ago (had he even been here for five minutes…??)
Bradley met Phoenix’s exasperated look before following after the WSOs.
As the group of pilots moved out of the warm golden rays of the sun, they were blasted with a fresh, cold stream of air in an almost pitch black hangar. Bradley squinted his eyes, thinking he could make out a large black… shape looming over them. Or that was his eyes making up shit, they’d been doing that ever since the uranium mission, damned concussions.
“Sorry ‘bout this, didn’t realise you’d be two hours early.” Maverick’s voice was saying from… somewhere. Bradley clicked his phone on and realised they were in fact exactly two hours early. Huh. “Pops, does this place have lights, or do you just have night vision?” Jake asked from his place in the middle of the two rusted steel doors. “Oh, it’s easier to work in the dark,” the older pilot made a hissing sound and a clatter of objects followed in its wake.
Bradley edged forward slightly, careful to wave himself around the attached forms of Mickey and Reuben, and approached the large silhouette that looked over him ominously. He squinted further, attempting to outline the edge of the figure. As he moved ever closer, something caught on his boot. Looking down, he found an empty tin strewn between the dust particles illuminated by the sun.
“Aha!” Maverick’s triumphant voice called before there was a flicker of meek light and then the whole hangar was showered in a cold green light from the ceilings. Bradley went to look up at the lights, but his head stopped midway in the action, favouring to take in the sudden appearance of an enormous P-51. Bradley staggered back a step. His duffle slipped off his shoulder and stationed itself in his cubital fossa. He sucked in a breath; what– what was he looking at?
The P-51 was parked harmlessly in the centre of the hangar, its massive wing span taking up most of the room. Bradley gawked at it, not even processing that there was a steel ladder propped up on the other side of the plane. Maverick strode gleefully back over, beaming ear to ear, “You like ‘er?” He asked.
“Yo– tha– wh–” Coyote fumbled over his words, presumably staring at the same thing Rooster presently was. “That’s a fucking P-51.” Hangman’s voice said. “Yep,” Maverick grinned, popping the p. “In the hangar you apparently live in.” Phoenix added. “Yep.” Maverick answered again. “Is anyone else finding this day just a little difficult?” Fanboy whispered and Rooster could practically hear Payback nod. “Respectfully Sir, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
Maverick said something else about refurbishing, but it was drowned out my the sound of Bradley’s heartbeat in his ears, beating shamelessly quickly. Maverick. His dad. Owned a war plane? A plane used for bombing in the second World War and the Cold War? A plane that was sitting in the hangar Maverick apparently owned as well? Bradley ran a hand over his left cheek, dragging some of the skin down with it. This– what was this?
Was this– some kind of joke? He knew Maverick. He knew he loved to fly and he loved planes – hell the guy had snuck him into the cock pit of an F-14 back in the day when Nick and his mum were on a date night – but… but this was different. Maverick, Pete, owned a P-51? When had this happened? When–
Bradley sucked down another breath, distrantly aware of Maverick moving over to the other side of the plane, gesturing to something to those that had trailed after him.
Had he really missed that much? Bradley never thought– he furrowed his brow, not once taking his eyes off the plane. Just because he’d stopped his life with Maverick and gone his own way, didn’t mean that Maverick had put his life on hold. This wasn’t the same Maverick he’d stormed out on. This wasn’t the same Maverick that he’d screamed at mercilessly. This wasn’t the Maverick had lived in the Bradshaw house with Ice. This… he didn’t know this man.
He didn’t know Maverick anymore.
He tore his gaze away, looking down at the concert floor. He swallowed down his heartbeat, narrowing his eyes to stave off the salty liquid. Had he taken it too far? Had he missed out on a whole life… because of a miscommunication? Had he wasted sixteen years without his dad? Over what?
His lips trembled. A drop of sweat dripped down his cheek. His heart fluttered. The ground before him hazed over. He staggered backwards. He–
“Bradshaw!”
He snapped his head up, finding Phoenix directly in front of him. “Whoa–” she jerked backwards as to avoid colliding with him. Bradley’s brow deepened and he peered around his best friend’s shoulder, finding the group of aviators had vanished. He looked back at Natasha, realising by the confusion and concern in her features that she’d been calling his name for some time. ‘Shit,’ he cursed mentally, squaring his shoulders and standing up straighter.
“Yeah?” He croaked, and mentally cringed. Phoenix sucked at the corner of her lips, eyeing him with suspicion. “Mav said we better go get setup for the sleep over, since we’re early he’s making us help with the refurbishing.” She explained, nodding over her shoulder dismissively to where the gang were setting up a series of colourful sleeping bags while Maverick pushed a couch out of the way.
“Right.” Bradley nodded, moving the strap of his duffle back to his shoulder.
~xXx~
“What did you all want for dinner?” Maverick asked as they all came out of the wash room. Bradley raised an eyebrow at finding the older pilot still looked like he’d taken a shower in grease. He tossed his previously white towel to Hangman before making his way down the wooden steps towards their sleeping bag area.
“Spaghetti.” Mickey answered hurriedly, blushing a dark crimson at everyone’s buds of laughter. Bradley sat himself down on his navy blue sleeping bag and made himself comfortable as the rest of the Daggers followed his example, with Fanboy being lead over by Maverick who was smiling gleefully. “Yeah, maybe I can organise that for us.” He was saying.
“You’re telling me there’s a fast food place near here?” Hangman jumped in quickly, a cocky smirk on his face. Maverick shook his head fondly as he all but fell down into the couch he’d been moving earlier. Bradley watched his movements closely. “Of course not, I’m going to make it.” Maverick answered, rolling his eyes.
That shook a scoff out of Rooster, causing everyone – including his dad – to stare at him. Bradley squirmed under their eyes, “Quite frankly, Mav, I don’t wanna waddle over to the phone to call the fire brigade after you insisted you could ‘cook’ for us again.” The Daggers’ heads all swivelled over to look at Maverick who was gaping at Bradley’s accusation. “Well, Bradley, I don’t entirely believed that is what happened–”
“Nu uh,” the younger pilot interrupted. The Daggers’ heads swivelled back to him. “I strictly remember running up to the door to give Ice and Sli a hug after they’d returned from a deployment and you saying not to bother with take away because you would cook for everyone. And even though both of them told you not to, you did it anyway, and you wanna know what happened? You somehow managed to burn the frying pan and set Slider’s favourite dish towel on fire.” Bradley retold the events of years ago out loud. He never thought he’d ever do that. Least of all to the group that sat around him now.
The heads all swivelled back to Maverick, who was looking over at them with a jaw-slacked expression. “Yo– how the hell do you even remember that?! You were like– six!?” The Captain fumbled out. The heads swivelled back to stare at Bradley who smirked before tapping his forehead, “I’ve got all your major slip ups stored up here for safe keeping.”
Maverick sputtered hopelessly, sagging back into the couch.
“... we both can agree that was an ugly ass towel though.”
“Oh, for sure. No one ever said Slider’s taste was decent.”
“Wait…” Bob spoke up, eyebrows furrowed, “Do you mean… Admiral Kerner?” The Daggers looked back between Maverick and Rooster like they were at a tennis match. Both he and his dad shared an amused look. Bradley had been waiting to see how long it would take to bring this subject up. “Well, kids,” Maverick leaned forward on his knees and all the aviators basically crawled over to him, sitting at his feet.
Bradley chuckled and pulled out his phone.
~xXx~
“God, Sir!” Fanboy gushed, face akin to a child – the tomato paste smeared around his lips making the image even more amusing – as he held up his plate for more spaghetti. “This spaghetti is the best!” Bradley chuckled, twirling his fork around in his dinner. Maverick laughed whole-heartedly and scooped around round of spaghetti into Mickey’s plate.
“After that story Rooster told, I made you out to be a terrible cook.” Coyote admitted, blushing a tad. “I’ve had lessons from the very best.” The Captain shrugged, sitting down at the table to actually start eating his food. “Which is?” Natasha inquired, raising an eyebrow. Maverick’s gaze filtered over to Bradley before digging into his food. All the Daggers swivelled to look at him expectantly. “Dick,” he muttered bitterly, causing Bob to choke on his lemonade.
The older pilot shrugged in response but Rooster could see the smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “So who’s the very best? Some other famous navy name you’re pals with?” Hangman drawled, face turning sour. Bradley chuckled, “It does turn out in fact, that Sunny can make a good dish of spaghetti.” He informed and Maverick groaned in agreement, mouth full of food.
“I’m sorry,” Payback leaned forward, “‘Sunny’?”
Bradley shrugged, “Sundown,”
The Daggers all gawked at him. “Okay, I need a list of every famous Navy name you are actually buds with.” Javy demanded, pulling out his phone to make a list. “Well,” Bradley put down his fork, leaned his elbows on the table and turned his head up to the ceiling thoughtfully, “There’s Captain Mitchel, Admiral Kazansky, Admiral Kerner, EX-Captain Williams, EX-Captain Piper, EX-Captain Wells, EX-Admiral Wolfe and… EX-Admiral Neven. Yep, I think that’s it?”
“Ah,” Maverick said, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “Bradley’s dear uncles.”
Rooster rolled his eyes, “I believe Ice was Pops.” He drew his eyebrows together in horror, faltering slightly at his own use of past tense. When had he come to think of their relationship as in the past..?
Maverick sniggered, having not noticed the flaw in his words. “Icepops.”
“... shut up, old man.”
“Icepops! Can we go to the beach pleeeeaase!?” Maverick gave a hideous interpretation of his kid voice that made him cringe. Javy barked out a laugh while everyone else chuckled lightheartedly. “I’m changing the subject now…” Bradley muttered darkly, narrowing his eyes while picking up his fork. “Of course, of course.” Maverick waved his hand as the conversation steadily drove into talk of Payback’s new Cessna.
~xXx~
A shadow stood with its arms crossed over its chest, standing out against the blue glow of the full moon. The shining light rained down over the hangar, bathing the old steel in a hue of diamonds. Bradley drew a soft breath in, his chest tightening as the icy air filtered through his lungs and through his body. He suppressed a chill, instead favouring to rub his bare palms over the exposed skin of his forearms.
He exhaled, eyes looking ahead but not seeing. He was in a different world, not just because he could not enter into the realm slumber, but because everyone else had. After their eventful dinner session, Bradley hadn’t met Maverick’s gaze nor gotten to talk to him as a private one on one. Natasha and Bob had been quick to drag him off to show him the photos of himself around the kitchen sink area. He’d blushed a deep crimson as everyone started to aw and Maverick had laughed. The group had begged for child-Bradley stories.
That was five hours ago.
The green LED lights had been shut off, the golden rays of the sun hidden and the warmth of the desert vanished. As a single man he stood, seemingly watching a pair of house fitches jump around, squawking softly at each other. A stroke of metal under man got his attention. Bradley twisted his upper body around and his eyes locked onto the beautiful P-51 mere feet away from him. By the right side of the plane stood Maverick, a grimace on his face.
Bradley uncrossed his arms, blinking slowly in confusion as the man did not make a move to approach him. Was this how they were going to be from now on? Putting on a friend– family façade in company but never with just each other? Were they to ignore their untalked about problems with others, but carry it ‘pon their shoulders together? Were they that miserable?
“I thought you were asleep?” Maverick spoke first, not making a move to step away from the metal wing. Bradley shrugged in response, adjusting his lower half to properly face his dad. “Couldn’t relax.” He offered after a beat of uncomfortable silence. A smile cracked Maverick’s lips, “You still like lullabies?”
A warm, fuzzy feeling burst through his chest and spread through his nervous system as he allowed himself to smile, recalling the fond memories of Iceman, Slider and Maverick taking turns to sing to him to sleep when his mum had gotten too weak. “Can you actually sing now?” He asked in return, earning a scoff in reply.
“I could always sing, Bradley.”
“My ears beg to differ.”
Maverick shook his head and chuckled, his crows feet crinkling. Bradley’s chest tightened at the jarring reminder of how old his dad had gotten. “Anything you need? Have you shared Ice’s love for horrid herbal tea?” The Captain asked. In actuality, he had, and he’d faced relentless teasing all throughout his days of friendship with Phoenix for it. “You’re telling me you have herbal tea?” He asked instead.
To his surprise Maverick nodded, “Yeah, it’s in the tea cup cupboard.” He explained. “Ha, are you telling me you actually know where something is? Colour me surprised.” Rooster smirked at his dad’s exasperated sputtering. “Har har. You’re quite the talk of the town aren’t you? C’mon, let’s go make some.” So that was how he’d ended up following his dad quietly into the kitchen to prepare a batch of teas for the both of them.
Maverick had boiled the water and Rooster had been tasked to get the mugs and the tea bags. The older pilot surprisingly had a decent array of teas. He rummaged through a few of them, finally settling on the ‘honey, caramel and vanilla’ flavour and tied the tails to the handles. After the teas were prepared, Maverick led him out to where he’d been standing alone before and had produced sun chairs from God-knows where.
Bradley relaxed against the soft material, tightening his grip on the warm mug as it steamed in his lap. The two of them sat abreast, watching as the pair of house finches flew around together in circles amidst the black night. He breathed in the steam from his mug, relishing in the warm soggy feel to his cheeks.
They sat together for a time, watching the two finches with great interest– or, at least Maverick was. Rooster wasn’t quite sure what he’d been thinking (or rather, not thinking) about until the old man decided to speak up. “I’m glad you and the guys came up here,” Bradley looked over at him, watching the small, sad smile tug at his lips. “It’s been a while since the hangar was so full of life and sound.”
Something in his chest tightened at the statement. How long had his dad been so alone for? “We’ll come anytime you want, Mav.” Bradley said. Maverick gave a small chuckled and waved his hand dismissively. “I mean it. Say the word and we’ll come running. They adore you.” His cheeks burned as his dad turned to look at him, surprised. “Finally, I get to be the cool uncle.” Maverick said.
“More like the inconvenient grandpa.” Scoffed Rooster.
“Oi!”
“What?”
“Inconvenient grandpas are cool.”
“Never said they weren’t.”
“You implied it.”
“Did not.”
“Did too.”
“Did not.”
Maverick rolled his eyes and leant back in his chair, gently blowing at his tea.
Rooster took a sip of his scalding tea and tried his best not to spit it right back out. His eyes burned by the time he’d actually swallowed it. “Let it cool, Bradley.” Maverick said while taking a sip from his tea. Bradley raised an unamused eyebrow as his dad started fanning his tongue. “Let it cool, dad.”
Maverick halted his fanning.
Bradley furrowed his brow in confusion. What was wro–
Oh.
An uneasy swirl of green dread burst through out his stomach during the long silence. “Mav– Mav I’m sorry– I didn’t mean to–” he stumbled out, quickly placing his mug beside his chair and sat erect in his chair, unable to think of the words to express his fatal mistake. Maverick didn’t make a move to sit up, place his mug down or even look at Bradley.
Rooster cursed inwardly while staring with wide eyes at his dad, he could feel the tears brimming. He hadn’t meant to let it slip– he knew they weren’t ready yet… but his tongue had slipped along with whatever was left to salvage of their fractured relationship. He’d done it. He’d finally fucked everything up just like he knew he would.
He knew this idea was a bad idea. Just because Maverick had opened up about why he’d pulled Bradley’s papers and Bradley had unmuted the older pilot’s contact didn’t mean they could continue from where they’d left off– did either of them even really remember what it was like before… the fallout?
Was this their sign?
Were they not actually meant to be a family?
Were they destined to always be apart?
“Bradley.”
Rooster flinched and his eyes locked with Maverick’s, who had moved from his chair and was now kneeling in front of him, gripping his bare hands. “I’m–” the younger pilot croaked, but the words fell dry on his capped lips. “Shh, it’s alright.” Maverick ushered, his spare hand wrapping around Bradley’s nape and pulling him into an unbalanced embrace. Bradley clenched his dad’s hands tightly, melting against Maverick’s shoulder.
“It’s alright, kid. It’s alright.” Bradley did his best to shake his head but the Captain simply started threading his fingers through the younger pilot’s golden locks. “It’s alright.”
~xXx~
Phoenix -
Waking up to find the P-51 gone was alarming. What was more alarming was that both Rooster and Maverick were nowhere to be seen. “How the hell did we miss them and the massive war plane disappear!?” Payback all but screeched as half the Daggers busied themselves with either searching the hangar or ringing the missing pilot’s phones.
“Wait.” Bob spoke up, moving towards the door of the hangar with his hand over his eyes. “I think I see something…” Phoenix approached her WSO and peered out, attempting to locate the object that had snatched his attention. Once she saw it, she couldn’t help but smile. The P-51 was approaching the tarmac and once it landed the canopy slid off, relieving Maverick slapping Rooster’s shoulders from the backseat. Rooster beamed from the front. ‘Idiots.’
#top gun maverick#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#pete “maverick” mitchell#natasha “phoenix” trace#jake “hangman” seresin#robert “bob” floyd#tom “iceman” kazansky#top gun fanfiction#for my pal#this took too long to write#oml#but I love it so#it was worth it
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
playingwiththeboys.mp3
#top gun#top gun maverick#bradley bradshaw#jake seresin#miles teller#glen powell#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#top gun: maverick#jake “hangman” seresin#jake hangman seresin#hangman#rooster#rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#hangman top gun#hangman x rooster#rooster x hangman#my art
638 notes
·
View notes
Text
jake “hangman” seresin.
pairing(s); jake “hangman” seresin x gn!reader
fandom; top gun: maverick (movie)
w/c; 352 words
trigger/content warnings; alcohol mention (2)
hangman who spots you one night, sitting in the corner. your arms crossed, hair pinned up, eyes fixed on the empty seat in front of you. his motive is selfish; he has no intention of making you feel any better, he just wants to dance with another pretty woman.
hangman who has no idea why you won’t leave his mind. he should be paying attention, and rooster gets a kick out of maverick catching him drifting off. he just can’t help it, the easy way you shrugged him off left him reeling.
hangman who’s searching the hard deck for you, green eyes scanning every single person with the same hair color, or wearing an outfit that you might wear. he’s distracted, and everybody on the team is giving shit for it.
hangman who finally spots you, twirling with some friends, a drink in your hand, and a smile on your face. and when your eyes meet his, his stomach drops, and his lips stretch into his own smile. phoenix follows his eyes, hers lighting up when she recognizes you.
hangman who’s throat is suddenly dryer than the sand outside. and you’re there, radiant and smiling, a gleam in your eye when you lock eyes with him. for the first time, he’s nervous, and he has to consciously focus on you to talk to you.
hangman who’s heart is in his throat when he asks if you’d like to grab a drink with him. his ears fiery red and his face warm when you motion to the beer in your hand and chide, “you’re a little late, dontcha think?”
hangman who gulps, then takes a breath and asks if you’d like to grab dinner with him then. his heart is pounding as you tap your chin, pretending to ponder his offer. “not tonight. i’ve got work in the morning,” you answer, and hangman is biting back a glare when phoenix snorts.
“but i’m free thursday at seven.” you smile. jake’s on top of the world as you saunter away, chuckling to himself. “nat can give you my number!” you call over your shoulder.
#why did it take me three days to write this#top gun: maverick#jake seresin#jake “hangman” seresin#jake hangman#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake hangman x reader#jake hangman x you#jake hangman imagine#blurb#top gun: maverick blurb#top gun: maverick fic#🖋️ — my writing#🪐 — top gun: maverick
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hope (1)
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader
Word Count: 1800
Warnings: None for this part
AN: Here is part one of the baby mini-series that won the polls a little while back. Hope you guys enjoy!
Your sister called you in as frantic a state you had ever heard her in. Apparently, your brother-in-law, Brian, was working out of town in Texas and fell from a roof, landing himself in the hospital. Thankfully he would be okay, just a broken leg and some bruised ribs but she needed to fly out to be with him. Since you were the only relative within a few hours, she needed you to watch her kids. You loved your nieces and nephew, honestly, you just weren’t very confident in your nurturing abilities. You never gave yourself a chance to wonder about yourself as a mother because you knew you wouldn’t have that.
Your husband, Jake, was a naval aviator and the constant deployments and the amount of danger he found himself in as part of his occupation made you both uneasy. You have been together for 7 years, and you loved Jake and your life with him. But the idea of children was something you had long given up any hope for as Jake had made it clear that he did not want to have children when you first started dating.
After hanging up the phone with your sister with assurances that you would be at her house in the morning, you went straight to the garage to find your other half bent over his other baby for a change, a 1956 red and crème colored Chevy Bel Air that his grandfather had left him. Upon hearing your footsteps on the cement flooring, Jake stood up and looked at you over his shoulder. He smirked, pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the grease from his long, calloused fingers. You almost forgot why you came in here at the sight of him covered in grease and a light sheen of sweat, grey t-shirt clinging to his body in all the best ways. His biceps made the sleeves much tighter than the fabric could almost handle. His dark blue jeans showed off his powerful thick thighs.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?”
“More than you know.”
You sauntered up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist while giving him a coy smile. You always got tingly in all the right places when he smelled like engine grease, jet fuel, and just Jake himself. It was something you couldn’t necessarily pinpoint but if you could bottle it up, you would; you’d make a fortune from it. Jake wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his nose into your hair, pressing kisses to the top of your head.
“Before you make me forget why I came in here, I have a favor to ask.” You pulled your face away from his chest to look in his eyes, lifting an eyebrow to put some levity into your request. You didn’t think Jake would be excited to go with you and you were expecting a little bit of a fight.
“Oh yeah? Something you need from me, baby girl?” Jake’s smirk was enough to make you laugh, knowing his thoughts were in the bedroom, or possibly the back seat right now. You wrapped your arms around his neck to play with the hair at the nape and started to leave chaste little kisses all over his face while speaking in a sultry tone.
“How about, you and I, take an extended weekend away, and you can help me, maybe, watch my sister’s kids while she sees her husband in the hospital?”
Jake quickly pulled your head back by gently tugging your hair at the root and the look on his face surprised you. He was smiling. He wasn’t smirking, he wasn’t laughing, and he wasn’t appalled at the idea of spending some of his leave time taking care of the kids.
“You must be truly desperate to come to me for help, sweetheart.”
“Please? I would feel better if you were there. The kids love you, and you’re great with them. Besides, do you really want to be away from me for that long?” You hoped batting your lashes would have the same effect as it did when you wanted the pool installed last year.
“How can I say no to that face? When do we leave?” Your surprise at his immediate approval quickly wore off, in time for you to reply.
“I told her we would be there in the morning; her flight is at 8 so we should probably be there around 6.”
“We can do that. What happened to Brian? Is he okay?”
“Fell off a roof on that construction job he took in Texas. He’s ok, just broke his leg and bruised some ribs but she needs to go get him and bring him home. They think he might need surgery first though.”
“Alright, well, I’ll finish up here, and you pack us a bag and we can go to bed early, ya know, so we can make sure to get plenty of rest.” Jake said while wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh and playfully smack his chest while walking away from him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The drive was great, despite the early time. You were not a morning person by Jake was by default. He sang along softly to the radio while enjoying a thermos of coffee which lasted the 2 hour and 45-minute drive to LA. Pulling into your sister’s driveway, you were immediately embraced as soon as you opened the car door by two rambunctious and happy children. “Auntie Y/N!! You brought Uncle Jake!” Then you were completely forgotten in favor of their favorite Uncle.
Jake laughed happily, toting both Madison and Andrew to the back of the car before you shooed them away with a laugh, grabbing your bags out of the trunk. You loved how at ease he was with them. He seemed to let down every guard he held up and let his inner child out when he was around the kids. It was a beautiful thing to witness. Madison gladly held onto his neck while sitting on his hip, Andrew getting the piggyback ride he always loved because “Uncle Jake is a giant!”
Andrew was the oldest at 6 years old while Madison was now 4. Both children had dark brown hair and freckles along their noses. You would think they were twins if it weren’t for their ages and their eye colors. Andrew had a beautiful blue that almost looked gunmetal grey. Madison had eyes that almost looked teal with just the right amounts of blue and green mixed together. The 4-month-old baby, Jamie, you had a feeling was going to be the problem child. She already gave your sister so much grief and you loved every second of it.
Stepping into the house, Jake quickly fled into the living room while the kids pulled him to the couch to finish watching The Fox and the Hound with them. Your sister greeted you with a quick hug, looking frantic while trying to make sure she had everything packed and her plane ticket in hand before the cab could pull into the driveway for her to leave. The kids were unaware that their father was injured and would be coming home early as a result. Your sister wanted to keep them from worrying as long as possible.
“I’ll call you when I land and after I get to the hospital. Phone numbers are on the fridge, along with the preferred foods. Jamie is asleep in the bassinet; the monitor is beside the couch. Bedtime is 8:30 and- “
“I know Amy. Relax, we will be fine. Besides, I’m the aunt, feeding them junk food and loving them until they are spoiled rotten is what we do best.” You gave her a sarcastic grin while pushing her towards the door. “C’mon kids, come say bye to Mommy!” The pitter patter of four little feet, which sounded more like a herd of elephants met you both at the front door, tackling their mother in a group hug and being smothered in kisses with reassurances of calls and how much they would be missed. The whole scene made you smile fondly.
Jake wrapped his arms from around you, leaning his chin on your shoulder with a smile mirroring your own. “Be safe Amy, have a good trip.”
Your sister gave him a smile and looked back and forth between the pair of you with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “You know, when are the two of you going to give me a niece or nephew? Don’t you think it’s about time you had a little one running around?”
While you started laughing, Jake quickly looked at you and gave an uncomfortable smile. Amy quickly joined your laughter before leaving out the front door with a wave. The kids rushed to the front living room bay window to wave goodbye to her one last time and to see her off.
“Sorry about that, you know how she gets.” You said while turning in his arms, rubbing your hands up and down his back to try to reassure him that it wasn’t something that you expected him to fulfill anymore. He tightened his arms around you while taking a quick peek at your niece and nephew with a fond smile on his face.
“I don’t know, I think we could try it. Now we’ve got the house and I’ve got a permanent station. I mean, it’s the best time to try. I’ve always wanted a kid with you, I just didn’t think it was something we’d ever get.”
“Now, it seems like it could really happen. You’re great with kids so I know you’ll be amazing with ours. They’re going to have awesome aunts and uncles. You’ll teach me how to be a good Dad. I know mine wasn’t the best example, but I know what I don’t want to do.” Jake gave you the biggest shit eating grin he could muster and looked over your facial features. Once he noticed your shock, his features softened to the loving gaze he saved just for you. You were frozen at his confession, and in true Jake fashion he knew you needed a moment to process your thoughts. Giving you one last squeeze and a sweet and short kiss to your lips, he rejoined the kids watching the movie, squeezing in between them and snuggling with them under the large brown blanket from the back of the couch while they laid into both of his sides, his arms wrapped tightly around them.
Staring at the beautiful scene in front of you, you finally started to allow yourself to hope for a family of your own with the love of your life. Your smile was contagious as he looked over at you and winked. Maybe you would get your dream after all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Taglist:
@roosterscock
@bradshawsbitch
@jupitercomet
@seresinhangmanjake
@fandomxpreferences
@wildbornsiren
@babyrooster
@ohtobeleah
@callsign-marlie
@callsign-milano
@oncasette
@topguncortez
@topgun-imagines
@roleycoleyreccenter
@call-sign-shark
@cherrycola27
@thedroneranger
@notroosterbradshaw
@almostgenerallyalways
@roosterbruiserr
@teacupsandtopgun
@endofdays56
@princessphilly
@wolfmoonmusic
@phoenix1388
@wintercap89
@timbradfordsboot
@je-suis-prest-rachel
@adaydreamaway08
@flowers-and-fichte
@mak-32
@greatszu
#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#hangman#jake “hangman” seresin#mini series#top gun fanfiction#tgm#ficrecbdaybash#poll winner
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
the tortured poets department series
updated april twentieth, twenty twenty four
javy "coyote" machado
side A: who's afraid of little old me? // side B: the black dog // the lost tape: the smallest man who ever lived
jake "hangman" seresin
i can fix him (no really i can)
bradley "rooster" bradshaw
the bolter
#the tortured poets department series#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#javy “coyote” machado#jake “hangman” seresin#top gun: maverick
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
And the bonus cover for Prettyboy:
Another tribute to one of my favourite authors on AO3: @alecjbi
This is a series of covers for their Twenty Dollars Verse series
#icemav#iceman#maverick#pete “maverick” mitchell#tom “iceman” kazansky#top gun#topgun maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun fic#k-e-birch#mare-noctis#hangster#hangman x rooster#jake “hangman” seresin#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#sereshaw#topgun fanfiction#fanfiction#archive of our own#ao3
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tis the Damn Season | The Lucky One (Jake Seresin x Reader)
Chapter 1: The Lucky One (aka. Dorothea)
SUMMARY ››››› The holidays have a way of dragging people back into places they swore they’d left forever. For you, it’s your small town of Coolidge, Texas and the arms of its golden boy: Jake “Hangman” Seresin.
PAIRING ››››› Jake Seresin x F!Reader (Nickname: Birdie)
WORD COUNT ››››› 5,322
WARNINGS ››››› None
MASTERLIST ››››› Here
A/N ››››› I am so excited to share this story that I’ve been planning out since July. These two are near and dear to me as is the playlist, so I hope you take the time to listen to the Taylor Swift songs even if she’s not your thing.
There wasn’t much special about Coolidge, Texas. Anyone who’d been literally anywhere else could see that.
Of course, none of the people born and bred in Coolidge had ever been more than fifteen miles over the town line, and the only reason they wandered that far was on account of the Walmart being in the next town over and Travers’ limiting the amount of ammo a person could buy at any one time.
People by and large tended to stay in Coolidge.
And it wasn’t because the town was quaint or picturesque or any of the other idyllic words your producers used to paint your hometown. The reason was far more tragic than that. People breathed their first and last in Coolidge simply because they got stuck here. Whether it was the mediocre schools, generational poverty, or perverse sense of loyalty to traditional American values, staying in Coolidge was more of a default than a choice.
So in many ways, winding up back here was an inevitability. At least your return was on your own terms to some extent.
You had needed to get away, and your sister’s annual argument for spending Christmas in Coolidge had been particularly compelling this year in light of that desperation. Add to that her point that she’d be leaving Coolidge at the end of the year, and it would be your family’s last chance at a Christmas together, and you were suckered into the second worst decision of your life.
Because absolutely nothing had changed about your hometown.
You were still desperate to get out of the house. Still stealing the keys to the truck and letting the screen door slam behind you as you raced down the front yard. Still listening to your mother’s shouting as it followed you all the way to the truck, only growing quiet once you safely shut yourself inside the cab.
You sighed, leaning your forehead onto the steering wheel and allowing yourself to bask in the brief moment of blissful silence. You should have stayed in LA.
With another sigh, you pulled yourself back up straight, flipping the mirror down to run your fingers through your hair and check to make sure all evidence of your own rage was indiscernible to the town’s eye. Satisfied, you shut the mirror back up, shifted the truck into drive, and pulled away from your family farm to head off into town.
The fields of the surrounding farms and ranches passed by, blurring together into the dull beiges of your childhood, so different from the glittering golds, and deep blues and rich purples that you’d grown used to. No trees or mountains or buildings cut against the grey-ish white skyline, leaving you with the distinct empty feeling that only Coolidge could.
When you reached town, it wasn’t much better. Sure there were maybe a few more “Closed” signs than had been there when you left six years ago, but the staples remained: Mel’s Diner with the constant flow of patrons, the town square with statues of questionable historical figures, and Danbury’s Grocery with its sign of perpetually peeling green paint.
You parked your truck in front of the grocer’s and climbed out, checking again in the rearview mirror that you were presentable, before turning and pushing inside.
Danbury’s was still comprised of a mere four aisles, and yet, it was still impossible to actually find anything.
You remembered perusing each of the long rows of shelves in high school, finding Oreos next to the pasta and bottles of Diet Coke on the same shelf as peanut butter. Back then, you’d blamed the disorganization on Evan Danbury’s apathy, illiteracy, and stash. Now you weren’t sure if the shelves were purposefully stocked in such a way to keep customers trapped between the rows, as close to an Ikea maze as you’d get out here.
As a result, it took almost forty-five minutes to find the ingredients your mother claimed you’d wasted by baking (and subsequently burning) a few batches of Christmas cookies with your sister. Not that staying out of the house until your mother had time to get over herself was necessarily a bad thing. It was just a little pathetic even by Coolidge’s standards that you were spending that time in a grocery store.
You warned back up the second aisle to the cash register, setting the basket on the counter and greeting the older woman with a polite, “Good afternoon, Ms. Connie."
The woman paused midway through setting down her book, her brow furrowing just a bit as she tried to place your face. You could see recognition hit her as her eyes widened, mouth hung, and hands moved straight to her hips, the book jutting out to the side.
"That can’t be you, Birdie."
There’s something almost discordant about the way your nickname sounded coming from her.
You’d grown used to hearing the other contestants calling you Birdie during your time in the house, and a few people here and there on the street calling out to you in recognition as well. But the distinct twang of the word coming from Ms. Connie was something left behind in Coolidge when you made your escape.
"Yes, ma'am,” you smiled widely, making sure to show just enough of your pearly whites to seem touched that she remembered you and not like a complete psychopath.
“Look at you!” Ms. Connie grinned, giving you an up and down. She seemed to approve of what she saw, even if she was shaking her head. “Even more pretty than you were on TV."
Your hand moved through the motion of smoothing back a piece of hair behind your ear, even though it was a pointless gesture. There was no hair out of place. "That’s kind of you.”
The cashier dismissed the modesty with a wave of her book-hand. “I’m just statin’ the facts,” she said, placing the book on the counter and turning to unload your basket. “So are you back home for the holidays?"
"Yes’m,” you nodded, watching her lift the flour and pass it across the scanner with a satisfying beep. She seemed to notice that she’d forgotten to get a bag out to load your groceries into and bent down, searching for one.
“I’m sure your parents are happy about that. I know they must have missed you somethin’ fierce,” she shouted up over the counter, finally procuring a brown paper bag and shaking it open.
It’s a testament to having a camera on you 24/7 for a little over a month that your smile doesn’t even so much as flicker. “I think Mini’s even happier,” you deflect.
“She must feel so lucky to have you as her older sister,” Ms. Connie nodded, placing the flour inside of the bag.
“I’m the lucky one,” you said, shaking your head. And you meant it. Because Mini was maybe the only genuinely good person left in the world. She was the one who saved up all of her money to buy her own cell phone just so she could FaceTime you. She was the one who reminded you not to read the comment section but used her own extensive collection of Finstas to fight and report trolls. She was the one who didn’t mind that everyone still called her Mini even though she was so entirely her own person the nickname didn’t even make sense anymore.
“Hard to argue that,” Ms. Connie agreed, sending the brown sugar across the scanner. “But I always knew you were going to do big things. You can ask Evan. I used to tell him all the time."
"How is Evan?” the question came more out of hope to stop the rambling monologue about you than an a genuine interest in the affairs of your classmates who nearly ruined your junior homecoming float with his stupid lighter.
“He’s working over at the Kurten’s ranch for now since him and Dana just had their second."
"Oh,” the word comes out coo-ing, effectively masking your surprise that Evan Danbury was not only the father of two but also married to the girl with the highest math grades in your entire class. “Congratulations! Boy or girl?"
"A girl,” Ms. Connie announced, beaming, sending the last of your items across the scanner and placing it into the bag. “It’s so nice to finally have a granddaughter I can spoil."
You laughed conspiratorially, despite your firm belief that no woman in their late 40’s could use the word "finally” when talking about being a grandma.
“Looks like it’s gonna be $14.71 today,” Ms. Connie said, reading out the total.
You nodded, passing over a $20 which Ms. Connie took, punching the amount into the old-fashioned cash register so the drawer popped open.
“What about you? Any boys out there in California? You seemed pretty close to that TJ boy on the show."
"No, ma'am, no boys,” you shook your head. “DJ and I are just friends. ‘Sides, if he’s not an Aggie’s fan, he’s not for me."
"Atta girl,” Ms. Connie said, reaching across the counter to poke you approvingly in the shoulder. She turned back to the cash register, counting out the change. “You know, there’s still a few homegrown boys 'round here. Maybe you can reconnect with one while you’re in town.”
“Sounds like you and my mother have been talking,” you dodged with a gentle laugh. Ms. Connie smiled as she handed over your change.
“All mothers in Coolidge just want the same thing for their daughters."
It was devastatingly true.
You pocketed the change, grabbing the bag from the counter and receipt from her outstretched hand. "Best be getting home with these,” you said to excuse your quick exit, and Ms. Connie nodded.
“It was good seeing you again, Birdie. Make sure you tell your folks I said hello."
"I will,” you nodded, pushing towards the door.
“And so you know,” she called out, causing you to pause before pushing through. “I had Evan help me vote for you on his phone. Such a shame you didn’t win. Woulda been nice to see our Miss Coolidge win another crown."
"I appreciate you,” you said with a nod and a glittering smile.
Which slid from your face the moment you were out the store and turned away.
God you hated it here.
You took a deep breath, looking at your truck and then further off into town, wondering if there was anything there that’d keep you both out of the house and out of small talk. Your eyes fell on the bar, a tempting option. Although, 3 pm was a little early even for you, and the inevitable scandal of the former homecoming queen getting day-drunk by herself was hardly worth the brief moment of peace.
You tore your gaze from the bar and back up the other side of the street, gaze going from garland-wrapped streetlight to garland-wrapped light, like the string of lights hung from the storefronts.
It was the door of the farm supply store opening that pulled your attention back to the moment and away from the Christmas decorations. A blonde man about your age walked out with two bags of feed over his shoulder. He matched the town’s “Very Country Christmas” aesthetic, red and white checkered shirt tucked into blue jeans too dark and stiff to be anything but brand new.
A smirk crossed your lips at the sight.
But it vanished the minute he dumped the bags into the bed of the truck and turned in your direction. An involuntary gasp left you.
You’d known he’d probably be in town. Your sister had made a point of keeping you updated over the past few years of all his visits to Coolidge. She’d also “casually asked” the night you arrived if you had plans to meet up with him while you were here. When you said you didn’t even know if he’d be in town because you didn’t have his number anymore, she informed you that he hadn’t missed a Christmas yet. And yet, over the past three days, no word of Coolidge’s Golden Boy returning home had spread which could only mean he wasn’t here. Because if there was one thing your town loved to do, it was stick Jake Seresin on a pedestal.
“Jacob Seresin,” you called out, stopping the blonde mid-step on his way around the truck. His head snapped in your direction, eyes squinting to see who had called out to him. You started towards him, not even bothering to drop the groceries off in the truck.
It was clear the minute he recognized you, because he shook his head and moved quickly across the street to meet you.
“Heard you were in town,” he said by way of greeting, hands tucked in his pockets lazily.
“You asking about me?” you smirked, enjoying the amusement reflected back at you in his own smirk.
“Only in your dreams,” he quipped. You snorted out a laugh as he nodded to you. “Mom made sure to let me know that Coolidge’s very own TV star was in town.” He leaned forward, conspiratorially. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her that The Network isn’t a real TV show."
If you hadn’t grown up running in the same circles as Jake Seresin, the jibe might have gotten under your skin, or at least stung a little. Instead, it landed on you like an annoying fly. An irritating presence there one second and gone the next.
"My paycheck was pretty real. How’s the Navy treating you?” you asked, voice light and breezy.
"They treat the top 1% of their Naval Aviators pretty damn well, actually. I'm sure you'd understand if you hadn't finished, what, 4th?"
“Third,” you corrected. “Of 15. You know, a number small enough where there is no top 1%. Unless of course, you need me to explain the math to you.”
The wide smile broke across his face. “It’s good to see you Birdie.”
“Of course it is,” you answered, moving forward to wrap the arm not holding your groceries around Jake’s shoulders in a hug. Instead of the quick “tap and go” hugs you were used to greeting friends in LA, Jake wrapped his arms around you, folding you into a real hug. The hug wasn’t long enough to be awkward or uncomfortable or fodder for the Coolidge whisper machine, but it was enough time for you to appreciate that in your absence, Jake had grown even more solid than he was back in high school. He’d always been strong and athletic, but there was almost an immovability to him now. You wondered if he could feel that the opposite had happened to you.
You stepped back out of his grasp, sticking a smile on for good measure. Jake’s hands returned to his pockets.
“Didn’t think I’d see you around here again. What brought you back?"
"Mini,” you answered, readjusting your grip on the groceries. “She gave a pretty impressive guilt trip about how this was her last Christmas in Coolidge, and all she wanted was for me to come home."
"All she wanted for Christmas was you?” The teasing undertone was evident in his voice as he lifted an eyebrow.
You nodded. “And who am I to deprive the less fortunate?"
Jake snorted, shaking his head at you. "How long are you staying?"
"Just through New Years. "You?"
He tilted his head in a manner that looked far more like a shrug than it maybe should have. "Hopefully the same. Depends if I get called back early."
You hummed, eyeing him up. "So you’re saying that I’m going to have to hear my mother go on about how you’re the real golden child of Coolidge for the entirety of my stay."
"Sorry,” he shrugged. He did not look the faintest bit sorry. In fact, his back seemed to straighten a little more.
You scoffed. “And I bet she won’t talk about your missing accent."
"What missin’ accent?” he drawled perfectly, and you flipped him off as he laughed. “Come on, Birdie. You and I both know I’ve always been the real golden child. Think about it. I’ve had a float in the homecoming parade the past seven years. How many have you had?” he asked, holding up two fingers as if you needed to be clued in to the answer.
“That’s 'cause my ego won’t shatter if people don’t make a big deal of telling me how important I am four times a year."
He raised an eyebrow. "Big talk from the influencer."
”Ohmygoodness.“
Both you and Jake swung around to see two middle-school aged girls with round eyes looking up at you. Jake slid on a winning smile, his posture stiffening just a little. You eyed him with the analysis of a publicist, impressed at how this man who wasn’t media-trained seemed to shift effortlessly into the confident and charming character he was known for here. Then again, media training was nothing compared to living with the Coolidge spotlight on you.
Still, it was tempting to lean over and pinch the back of his arm the way you used to back when he was talking to girls practically falling over themselves to fawn over him. ”I figured you needed to release all that hot air somehow,“ you’d remark, and he’d always glare even as he reigned his ego back in.
"You’re Birdie,” the shorter of the two girls said.
You could feel more than see Jake deflate some next to you. It was what made your own smile grow a bit more.
“Yep,” you nodded, good naturedly.
The girls continued to stare at you blankly in either awe or panic, you weren’t sure.
“Y'all doing some Christmas shopping?" you asked, pointing at the bags on their arms. They seemed surprised to find themselves carrying things, and the taller one shook her head.
"We’re having a party in our English class."
The answer seemed incomplete, but even Jake had the good grace not to do much more than give a light snort.
"You were so good on The Network,” the shorter one complimented, and the other nodded in agreement.
“You were my favorite. And not just because you’re from Coolidge,” the other said, hurrying to tag on the clarifier as if she’d be deemed a fake fan for liking you because you had something in common.
“'Preciate it,” you nodded, smiling.
Another awkward silence overtook the four of you as the girls looked at each other, making wide-eyed insistent faces back and forth before finally the short one asked, “We were wondering if we could take a picture with you for our Instagrams?”
You nodded. “Of course. Jake would you mind?"
"Sure for five bucks.”
The girls scrambled into their pockets as you hit him on the arm. “He’s just jokin’; y'all don’t need to pay.”
“Oh.” The two laughed nervously before one offered up her pastel pink case over to him. You placed your groceries on the ground by his feet, wrapping an arm around each girl as they came up on either side of you.
Posing for promotional photos, perfecting your posts, parading around pageants, and years of cheer had honed you into something purely photogenic. You didn’t even feel the need to see the phone as Jake handed it back to the girl.
“Well, I hope y'all have a nice party and a Merry Christmas,” you said, waving goodbye and hoping they caught on to your dismissal. They did, scurrying away, heads together as they looked over the pictures as they went. You caught pieces of their conversation, the words “pretty” and “lucky” making an appearance as they always seemed to whenever people were talking about you.
Jake picked up your groceries and offered them back to you. You accepted, eyes catching onto your truck.
“I should probably head home with these before my mother’s head explodes,” you sighed. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
“You going to the Campbell’s party tomorrow?” he asked.
Your brow furrowed and you shook your head. “Danny Campbell’s?”
Jake nodded. “He and Rebecca have a Christmas party every year at their place for everyone who’s back in town.”
As if anybody had ever left town besides you and Jake. You didn’t voice the snark though, instead trying to figure out which of your former classmates would exactly be there. “Rebecca like Rebecca Tunstall?”
“Hickey,” Jake corrected, shaking his head at you. “You didn’t keep track of anyone did you?”
You shrugged. “Wasn’t planning on ever coming back."
"And yet, you’re here,” he pointed out, the statement settling between you. It seemed to grow in the space between you, the silence pushing out and making itself known. Jake was the one to break it. “I’ll pick you up if you want, and we can go together. Unless you think you’re better than the little people."
You snorted, pulling yourself back together and out of all thoughts about what had put you on a plane back to Coolidge. "I’m perfectly capable of taking myself,” you said, starting to walk backwards towards your own truck. “And for the record, I know you think you’re better than the little people too."
He laughed at this, the sound following you to your truck and bringing the first genuine smile to your face since you’d come to town.
You looked…out of place.
Granted, you had always looked out of place in Coolidge, even as far back as the first time he remembered seeing you filing into the pew behind your parents. You’d spent the whole of Sunday service swinging your legs, shiny red boots catching the light and his attention. There had always been a vibrancy to you compared to the rest of Coolidge. Like a piece of Oz that had found itself swept away into this taupe little town.
But seeing you now, looking like a California goddess as you climbed into the muddy old pick up with a busted ull bar just seemed wrong. You belonged with palm trees and neon cars and golden roads. Not here.
Jake sighed, pulling his attention back to his truck. He needed to head home too. HIs "quick trip to Travers” had turned into what was essentially a greeting line for all of the old vets hanging around the farm supply store. Each man seemed more eager than the last to relive his glory days either through recounting a long and winding story about his time in the service or living vicariously through Jake as they grilled him on his Naval career.
It was exhausting and less of an honor the men probably thought their attention and approval was. Because sharing the highlights of his successes hardly meant anything when his audience couldn’t grasp just how impressive he really was.
Thankfully, the drive home was quick, and it took even less time to unload the truck than it did to put everything in now that he wasn’t being stopped in between each bag to greet someone new.
Still, by the time he walked into the kitchen, his mother had already started supper, frying something in a cast iron skillet on the stove. Rather than helping, Melissa and Hannah sat at the table, deep into a game of cards.
“What took you so long?” Hannah demanded before he even had the time to take off his boots. His mother turned from her task to cast a scolding look at her youngest who, for her part, completely ignored it as she discarded the four of clubs.
“The senior center took a field trip down to Travers, so I had to relive World War II with the fossils."
Hannah burst into laughter as his mother admonished him with a sharp "Jacob!” She brandished her spatula at him. “Those men fought for you. The least you can do is pay them some respect."
"Sorry, Ma,” Jake apologized, rounding the kitchen table so he could wrap an arm around his mother and kiss her on the cheek. “I’m just tired.”
She hummed and patted the side of his head which he took as forgiveness.
“Did you run into anyone else?” his older sister asked, drawing a card from the stack in front of her.
Sometimes Jake swore that she could read his mind. It had always been unnerving and inconvenient because it wasn’t like he could lie or even skirt around it. The Seresin women were practically bloodhounds when it came to finding out the truth, able to sniff out any small fib immediately.
He nodded. “Birdie was out doing some shopping."
Both his mother and his little sister swiveled to face him, their separate tasks completely forgotten.
"How is she?” his mother asked, trying (and failing spectacularly) to keep the excitement from her face.
“Good,” he answered with a shrug. “Still herself.”
“So you’re still in love with her?” Hannah asked.
Jake ignored his younger sister, walking back to Melissa’s side and staring at her hand. Across from him, Hannah smirked. “That’s a yes."
Jake moved three cards around in his older sister’s shand, and she smiled up at him. "I knew there was a reason you’re my favorite."
Hannah’s face scrunched in confusion, the look quickly shifting to shock as Melissa lay her cards down on the table. "That’s not fair!” Hannah gaped.
“Neither’s life,” Jake retorted, and Hannah flipped him off behind her cards, out of their mother’s view.
“How long is Birdie in town for?” his mother asked, bringing the subject back around as she flipped the sausage in the pan.
“Just the holidays,” he answered, looking up at her from the remnants of his sister’s game.
“That gives you, what? Two weeks of Mom trying to convince you to marry her?” Melissa asked, gathering all of the cards into her hand. Hannah passed hers over, sliding them onto the top of the deck.
Their mother sucked her teeth, and turned her gaze back to the pan. “I was going to say that you should invite her over to dinner, but if I’m just going to get accused of meddling, I won’t,” she huffed.
Her guilt trips had lost their power over the years. After facing down enemy pilots and having the lives of other pilots with families placed on his shoulders, he’d learned the threat of real guilt. But he’d be damned if he didn’t let his mother think she still had a hold over him.
“I’ll think about it,” he said, starting to exit the kitchen. “Even if this is exactly what you did to Beth and Nate."
His sisters laughed at the reference to their oldest sister and her husband, even as his mother made a noise of protest. And with that, he was out of the room and heading up to his bedroom.
His mom wouldn’t be able to pull the same trick with him and Birdie though, because he had already decided six years ago that he wouldn’t marry her.
"What are you still doing here?”
Birdie looked up from her phone, eyes wide only for the briefest of seconds as Jake made his way towards her from the side door.
He watched as she relaxed a bit, placing her phone next to the plastic tiara that rested beside her.
“Pissing off my mom, I imagine,” she said with a shrug.
He didn’t ask. Not after word of the Float Incident with Birdie’s mother made its way around the school.
“Pretty sad way to piss off your mom, just sitting on a bench in front of the school,” he remarked, coming to a stop in front of her. “Could at least be at a party. I think Brian Thomas is having one at his barn.”
She offered a slow half-smile. “Not really up to being homecoming queen right now.”
He was quiet, eyes running over her as if there’d be any sign as to what led her here or what he should do. She seemed to feel the weight of his gaze, sighing and running a hand over her silvery dress. “I’m ok. I’m just gonna sit here a bit.”
She was not ok. When Birdie was ok she was up and moving and positively shining. This was not it.
Jake shook his head, hoisting his duffle bag up on his shoulder. “Meet me under the bleachers in five minutes.”
“Bleachers?” She repeated, eyebrows raised.
“Ambiance,” He smirked, before pointing up. “And there are cameras out here."
She followed the direction his finger pointed, eyes locating the cameras.
"And the five minute wait?” She asked, a genuine smile teasing at her lips.
“Anticipation,” he offered, before walking backwards towards the parking lot. “And I gotta run to my truck.”
She was waiting for him under the home bleachers looking more breathtaking than any girl with a large rip up the side of her dress had any right to be.
“Get in a fight while I was gone?” he asked, eyeing the torn fabric.
“Stupid thing snagged on a bolt or something,” she dismissed, annoyance still coating her words. Her eyes caught on the bottle hanging from his right hand, lighting up for the first time since he’d caught sight of her on the bench. “Whatcha bring me?”
“Only the finest for royalty,” he answered, lifting the bottle of Tennessee Honey up for her approval. She grinned reading for it.
“An excellent celebration of our coronation indeed,” she agreed, unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink from the bottle. “Hallelujah.”
Jake laughed, reaching for it and setting himself down on the ground before taking a swig. Even with the bottle blocking his view, he could see Birdie sit down across from him, crossing her legs so the long dress rode up a bit.
They chatted, passing the bottle back and forth. Birdie teased him about his fuckup that got him sacked and he mocked her teary acceptance of the crown. They laughed and carried on for over an hour, the golden liquor falling lower and lower in the bottle. It was late when they grew quiet, the pauses of companionable silence stretching longer.
“You ever feel like you were meant for more than Coolidge?” Birdie asked out of this silence.
Jake smirked, reaching for the bottle. “Every damn day.”
She nodded, silently passing over the whiskey into his waiting hand. She was quiet even as he drank, watching him take a pull of the liquor and wipe his lips off with the back of his hand.
“I don’t think I’m meant for this. Ranching and marriage and always being Miss Coolidge all the time,” she mused.��I’ve decided I’m leaving after graduation.” Her voice was firm even if the volume was softer than normal.
His eyebrows shot up. “Gonna be a college girl?”
She snorted, plucking the bottle from his hands. “You and I both know I don’t have the money for that or the grades for a scholarship. No,” She looked over his shoulder, her gaze away. “The day after graduation, I’m packing a bag and moving to LA. I don’t know what I’m going to do but it’s gotta be better than sticking around here”
Jake was quiet for a moment, taking her in. Her shining eyes and the glittering tiara in her hair and the ripped silvery blue homecoming dress. “You’re gonna miss my graduation party.”
She set the bottle of whiskey down behind her, and then surged forwards, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. Her lips moved over his with a frenzy that accompanied all Birdie did, like she had to make the most of a fleeting moment. And maybe the moment was more rare than he would have liked to admit. Because it struck him that for once in his life he had said the exactly right thing and the exactly right time.
And because lightning never strikes twice, he kept his mouth on hers and didn’t say another word.
#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x f!reader#jake seresin#hangman x reader#hangman x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x you#jake “hangman” seresin#hangman#jake seresin smut#hangman smut#jake hangman seresin smut#the smut is coming#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
Break Up in a Small Town
Request: What about break up in a small town by Sam Hunt? Pilot!Reader and Jake?! Love your work!! - @callsign-viper
Summary: You and Jake had known each other since high school and the two of you dated back at the Academy. After being stationed on separate sides of the US the two of you separated. Little did you know both of you would be called back to Top Gun. Little did he know you would be followed by a civilian boyfriend.
Warnings: Swearing, name-calling (slut), shitty boyfriend, Hangman to the rescue!
No Y/N; callsign Stinger; called Honeybee by Jake as term of endearment.
Word Count: 3k
AN: This took way too long and I’m sorry. It also ran away from me and I’m not sorry.
When I first started writing this, I was watching too much VPR and Tom is definitely based on Tom Sandoval.
For the parts 1 & 3 of this accidental series: pt 1: Cop Car || pt 3: Falling Like This
《 m.list || ao3 》
“Stinger!” You looked up from your spot in the common room, greeted by the commander looking about as pissed-off as usual, “My office now!”
Shit! What did I do…? Your thoughts ran rampant. You weren't a bad egg by any means but depending on the day the commander could go on a tirade over just about anything.
You stood in front of his desk, eyes trained straight forward. He was looking through a large manila folder. “Do you know why I called you in here?”
“No, Sir.”
“I have to send somebody from this squadron to Miramar…” Your brain was barely able to register the Commander’s words. “This might be against my better judgment, but I’m giving you your dream shot. I'm gonna send you up against the best. You’re going to Top Gun.”
Holy Shit…!
“Thank you, Sir.” You tried to keep a stoic look on your face but inside you were screaming. Top Gun was a big deal and you would be one of the few pilots included in the upcoming class!
“You ship out tomorrow. You're expected to be there Monday at 0500. Don’t make me regret this decision, Lieutenant. You’re dismissed. Go home and pack up.”
“I won’t let you down, Commander.”
You walked out and closed the office door behind you. You tried your best to contain your giddy smile. You bolted down the hall, running into the parking lot and towards your car. The first thing you did was pull out your phone and call your best friend.
Viper was stationed in Florida. The two of you were inseparable at the Academy, attached at the hip, and you didn’t let being stationed in different places stop this. Regardless of the distance, the two of you always stayed in touch, sharing whatever news and gossip came up wherever you were stationed.
“Hello?”
You couldn’t contain yourself and just screamed into the phone, “Guess what!!”
“Okay tone it down there, Sting. I don’t need you blowing out my eardrums.” She laughed.
“I’m going to Top Gun!”
“Oh?” There was a small pause, and you could hear her giggle softly. “That’s amazing, babe! I think there will be a lot in store for you there!" she paused for a moment. "You know, Top Gun, full of surprises!” You knew Viper was acting weird, but your excitement was taking over, and you couldn’t be bothered to ask what she knew. “I umm have to go but call me when you get to Miramar safe! Love you!” She hung up just as quickly as you called her.
Weird as that was you knew better than to question Viper. But the last thing on your mind was the fact that in the Navy, news travels fast and Viper knew much more than she was letting on. All you could think about was goodbye China Lake and hello Miramar!
“You accepted it? Don’t you think we should have talked about this first?” This was not exactly the reaction you were expecting from your boyfriend.
You met Tom about a year ago at a bar just off the China Lake base. You had been stationed at the Naval Air Weapons Station at China Lake since you graduated from the Academy. Being a skilled pilot with a talent for air-to-air combat, it was the perfect placement for you. Last fall, Tom moved to sunny California after being employed as a civilian contractor, hired to work on weapons navigation. The two of you seemed to click well and after a month of being friends, you decided to go out with one another. You hadn’t really dated anyone since the Academy, and it was a nice change of pace, for a while at least. As months went on Tom tended to, not so subtly, question your career as a naval pilot.
“I know, but this is Top Gun. This is a huge deal!” You said adrenalin running through, a giddy smile was plastered on your face. “This is the big leagues! And it’s still in California, only like a 4-hour drive.”
“I get that babe, but you really should have consulted me on such a big decision.”
Your smile began to fade, “You’re right I should have talked to you…” Tom always had a knack for bringing you down a couple of pegs.
“It’s cool and all but you have to consider how it could affect me, us. You know?"
“Yeah… I’m sorry.” You looked down at your feet.
“Hey, don’t give me that face.” He placed his finger under your chin lifting it so you would look at him. “You just have to think before you act.” He pulled you into a hug, “We’ll make it work.”
The drive to Miramar was surprisingly easy despite the traffic. You made it there in record time, partly due to your tendency to drive just a bit over the speed limit.
*Ping*
You looked at your phone expecting it to be Tom but the name on the notification read Phoenix. The two of you had gotten pretty close after her short stint at China Lake a couple of years ago. You were relieved when you found out that she was also accepted into Top Gun, the perspective of a familiar face made your nervousness subside.
You, me, Hard Deck 7 pm! The whole class is meeting up!
You smiled at the screen and all thoughts of Tom and the hope that he would text that he was glad you made it to Miramar safely quickly left your head.
You made it to the Hard Deck a few minutes after 7. As you walked in you saw a collection of khaki surrounding the pool table. You made eye contact with Phoenix, who lifted her empty glass with pleading eyes. You smiled, giving her a nod that indicated her next round was on you before you headed to the bar. You didn’t notice when more khaki uniforms shuffled into the already-packed bar.
“What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix!” A tall blonde made his way over to Phoenix and the others. “And here I thought we were special, Coyote. Turns out the invite went to anyone.”
She rolled her eyes, “Fellas, this here’s Bagman.”
“Hangman,” he smiled as if the snide comment didn’t bother him.
“Whatever.” She turned to Fanboy and Payback, “You’re looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”
“Stop.” He tried his best to fain embarrassment.
“Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.”
“Cold war,” he corrected. “Different wars, same century.”
She smiled back at him, “Not this one.”
“Who are your friends?” He nodded toward the two men on either side of her.
“Payback. Fanboy. And Stinger’s at the bar grabbing drinks.”
“Stinger...?” he spoke in barely a whisper. Hangman could feel his heart skip a beat at a name he hadn’t heard in years but never forgot. There’s no way…
After a few moments you made your way over to the pool table, Nat’s tequila and soda in one hand and your drink of choice in the other.
“What did I miss?” You said squeezing in next to Nat and handing her a drink.
I knew I'd see her around.
I'd be at some party, she'd show up and I'd be walking out.
“Stinger! This is-“
You interrupted before she could finish, “Hangman. It’s been a while, Seresin.” The corner of your lip turns up slightly as you maintain eye contact.
“That it has…” Jake’s eyes wandered through the room, itching for an escape. He figured it was inevitable that he would run into you again, but he wasn’t prepared for it to be now. He saw Rooster out of the corner of his eye, “Bradshaw! Is that you?” Bradley made his way over to the group and you watched as the two men had a dick-measuring contest.
You moved closer to Nat. “Well, he hasn’t changed,” she sighed as she turned back to you.
“Nope. Sure hasn’t…” a small smile making its way across your lips. You downed the rest of your drink, “I think I’m gonna head out. I have a lot of shit to do before Monday.” The reaction between you and Hangman had Nat curious but she knew better than to bombard you with questions.
You were barely at the parking lot before you had your phone in hand dialing Viper’s number. Time differences be damned!
“You knew, didn’t you?!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You could hear Viper’s smile through the phone.
“You knew he was here!”
“Okay maybe… Yeah, I knew. But come on Sting… I know you still have feelings for him.”
“That doesn’t matter I have Tom...” You didn’t even sound convincing to yourself.
Viper held herself back from sharing her thoughts about Tom. “Well, a lot can happen in a few weeks. Maybe keep your options open.”
You rolled your eyes and let out a soft sigh. “I’ll talk to you later V. Love you.”
“Love you too, S. Be safe up there.”
The first two weeks had been maddening. Top Gun training was a lot, to put it mildly. Being so close to Jake Seresin brought up feelings you thought you had long since buried and it didn’t help that Tom was MIA due to work.
You were wrapping up your post-flight checks, humming along to the music softly playing from the speaker on your workbench.
We just needed some time.
Your mood dampened slightly at the choice of song. You didn’t listen to much country before you met Jake. Coming from the Lone Star State, it’s all he would listen to. It didn't take long for the genre to grow on you. But even after all those years, there was a pull somewhere in your heart whenever a song like that would come on.
Thought I would be fine, but maybe not.
“Hey, Honeybee.” Jake mentally hit himself for the nickname.
Speak of the devil.
You couldn’t help the shiver that made its way down your spine. You wouldn’t say it out loud but you missed the nickname. One only he ever got to call you.
You turned around to see Jake walking towards you. You stood, adjusting your flight suit.
“Good job out there today.” Jake was looking down at the ground.
“Thanks. Same to you.” You gave him a small smile just as his gaze made its way to your face. “Mav’s a hard ass, but this is a good team and I think we have what it takes.”
He couldn’t help but smile, “Hard ass might be underselling it, but I have to agree.” He looks back at the ground once more. “Hey, I’m happy you’re here. While I had some doubts about some of the pilot selections, I never had a second thought about you being here.”
“Thank you, Jake. I-“ Before you can finish your thought you hear a door open next to you. When you look over the sight of Tom is a surprising one. He had barely spoken to you since your arrival, let alone mention coming down to see you.
“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Tom’s arm was slung heavy and uncomfortable on your shoulders.
“Tom, this is Lt. Jake Seresin. He’s also attending Top Gun.”
Hangman extended a handout to Tom, “Nice to meet you, Tom.”
“Back at you, buddy.” Tom leaves Jake’s hand empty, pulling out his phone from his pocket. “Hey babe how about you clean up your grimy self and we meet somewhere for a drink.”
You try your best to brush off Tom’s brazen attitude, “Umm yeah we can meet at the Hard D-“
Tom cuts you off, moving his arm from your shoulder and turning all his focus to his phone, “Yeah. Cool. Let’s meet there in a few hours?” Without waiting for your reply, he starts making his way towards the exit. “Just send me the address.”
You let go of a sigh that caught you somewhat by surprise. “Well, I guess I should wrap up my checks and get out of here.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jake.
Jake was taken aback by the little interaction but bit his tongue. He had no right to comment on your current relationship, even if he hated how the guy talked to you. “Yeah,” he paused for a brief moment, “I’ll see you at the Hard Deck.”
You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face, “yeah, see you there.”
Jake sat at the bar of the Hard Deck watching Penny and the new bartender pour drinks while he debated his decision to come tonight. The second he saw you for the first time since the Academy, everything that happened between you and him came flooding back. Meeting you in Corpus Christi after your dad got promoted and stationed at their Naval Air Station, going to the Academy together, long nights spent studying, and even longer nights spent intertwined with one another. He missed you. He wanted to convince himself that he didn’t, but he did. He always wondered where you two would have been had you been stationed together after graduation or had you tried to make things work despite the distance. Maybe you wouldn’t have been with that jackass now…
Jake looked up from his drink to be met with a view of the said jackass. However, the hands that were hanging all over Tom, didn’t belong to you. Jake watched for a few more moments as Tom’s hands grabbed at the girl’s ass. Before he knew what he was doing, Jake was making his way towards Tom, taping the shorter, dark-haired man on the shoulder.
“What the-Ho, hey Jacky boy!” Tom’s demeanor quickly changed when faced with the taller blonde.
“It’s Jake.” Jake was straight-faced and unamused.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Any way you mind?” Tom’s eyes moved from Jake to the girl and back to Jake, hoping that Jake would catch the hit and keep quiet.
I wanna jump out, I wanna fight, I wanna say, "F- that guy!" but I can’t.
Jake knew exactly what that look meant. While he wasn’t proud of it, he had a past. When you first met in high school, Jake had a reputation for having a high “catch and release” rate. It was because of that it took him a while to convince you that he wanted something different with you. After you things reverted, never wanting something serious if it wasn't with you.
The doors to the Hard Deck opened and your gaze was drawn to Jake. Thoughts of Tom were nonexistent, to the point where you couldn’t be bothered to notice the shorter, dark-haired man or the shorter woman hanging all over him.
You waved to try and get Hangman’s attention. On further inspection, you could tell that the man was seething. Jake wasn’t one to share his emotions much and he wasn’t the most readable, but after spending years with him you could read him like a book. When you finally reached the man, you were met with the source of his anger.
“Tom?”
The girl turned to you with a look of disgust, as if you were beneath her. “And who are you?”
“Well, girlfriend doesn’t seem like an appropriate title anymore,” your attention shifted from her back to your ex-boyfriend, “does it, Tom?”
Tom let out a laugh that made you want to shrink into yourself. “Sure, sure. You know what? Fuck you! I could have any girl I want! I don’t have to put up with this bullshit!”
“What bullshit? You’re the one with another woman hanging all over you.”
“Oh, seriously?” Tom looked to Jake and back at you, “Like you haven’t been slutting yourself out to guys like him?”
“Hey hey hey!” Penny moved toward the two of you, “I will not have this shit in my bar.”
Tom scoffed, “And what are you going to do about it?”
Penny smirked and ranked the bell. The whole crowd cheered as Tom looked around in confusion.
“Overboard! Overboard! Overboard!”
Before he had time to think, much less react, Tom was hoisted into the air and carried toward the exit. Before he knew it his ass hit the sand and the doors to the bar were slammed shit.
Jake looked over to you, you had shrunk into yourself at Tom’s words but tried your best to hide it. He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. “You wanna get outta here?” He gave you his iconic smile and you couldn't help but give him a small smile in return.
“Yeah, I would rather be anywhere but here right now.”
“I think I know just the place.” He cashed you both out with Penny and led you to his truck.
“I hope this isn’t your masterful plan to get me back in your bed.” Half joking you look over to him.
He let out a breathy laugh, while he liked the thought of you back in his arms, tangled in the sheets of his bed, he knew that’s not what you needed. At least not right now. “Unlike some, I am capable of think without using my dick.”
The two of you drove in comfortable silence. You noticed that he had driven you back to Miramar. He parked and you looked at him with some confusion. “Come on,” he hopped out, grabbing two blankets out of his back seat before making his way towards the back of the truck and you followed. “You remember back in Corpus Christi when we would sneak onto the base and watch the planes take off.” He laid out the blankets and lifted you to sit on the truck bed.
“I remember us almost getting arrested senior.” I couldn’t help but laugh as you remember that night. You also remember that being the night you two first kissed.
He jumped up to sit next to you, “Thankfully, we don’t have to worry about that.”
Your eyes drifted in his direction, taking in his form. His strong arms, his hands that were much larger than your own. His strong jaw and beautiful eyes. You knew your timing could have been better, but you couldn’t stop yourself, “I’ve missed you, Jake…” Your head came to rest on his shoulder.
His head came to rest slightly on your own, “I missed you too, Honeybee.”
Tags: @callsign-viper @luckyladycreator2 @saturnsbabe69 @desert-fern @pono-pura-vida
As always, feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑? 𝐿𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 💜
#top gun#top gun maverick#jake “hangman” seresin#top gun fanfiction#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman seresin#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman imagine#no beta
196 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can we talk about Glen Powell's Hangman Playlist? Absolutely obsessed
I mean, Levitating? His man singing Great Balls of Fire? Thank God I'm a Country Boy? Amazing
#glen powell#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin#jake “hangman” seresin#jake seresin#dagger squad#top gun maverick#top gun#Spotify
92 notes
·
View notes
Text
i'll carry my bags just until i can hold you again || chapter 4/5
pairing: jake seresin x julie floyd (OC)
summary: Six months after they break up, Jake shows up at Julie's Family thanksgiving. They make it through dinner, but what about feelings??
warnings: 18+, minors please DNI -- alright we've had our warnings the whole time and this is where they come out to play. this chapter is explicit unprotected sex, incl. but not limited to, face sitting, hand jobs (m and f receiving), overstimulation. also swearing.
length: 6.6k
tagging: @peakyrogers @fuckyeahhangman @withahappyrefrain @wildbornsiren @laracrofted @callsignvalley @gigisimsonmars @roosterforme @almostgenerallyalways @daggerspare-standingby @wildxwidow @mxgyver @princessofglitterland @winterrebel04 @hangmanbrainrot @almostgenerallyalways @lgg5989 @double-j
crossposted on ao3, so read there, if you like
previous chapter
Dinner had been fine.
There’d been the normal tension and hangups, but Julie had survived. She’d felt herself teetering a couple of times, but then Jake…actually, that was the complete sentence.
But then, Jake.
He put his arm over the back of her chair, not touching her, but reminding her he was there. He intercepted when an extended relative was asking probing questions about Robbie’s last mission. He moved a bottle of red just out the reach of a cousin who’d had too much already; he joked easily when someone brought up the Cowboys.
He didn’t talk to her, though.
When it came time for cleanup, Ma shooed Julie out of the kitchen, and Jake was exempt anyways due to his bandaged hand. So, they entertained their respective crowds—Julie keeping the kids out of everyone’s hair, and Jake keeping the adults out of Robbie’s. Julie knew her brother noticed it, and he sent a couple long glances her way, but he kept his doubts under wraps.
And now they were upstairs, brushing their teeth and changing into pajamas in turns, still unsure what there was to say.
Julie climbed into bed and felt the mattress dip as Jake crawled onto the other side.
“Thank you,” she said, just above a whisper, the thing she needed to voice.
“Ah, no worries,” Jake said, his voice equally hushed.
Julie closed her eyes, pulling the comforter up over her body and readjusting underneath it, the rustling seeming loud.
“I’m going to try that again,” she said, before repeating, “thank you.”
She heard him huff, something that might’ve been a laugh, then he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome, Julia.”
She’d take that.
Julie turned onto her side, pulling her knees up, looking over at Jake. His annoyingly straight nose, his sharp jaw, almost obscured by a few days’ scruff. The room was still, and dark, only lit by a sliver of moonlight through the thin curtains. Julie couldn’t help but think of a dozen other nights like this, on her side, admiring Jake. The last day and a half had been like borrowed time. Familiar and not, like a memory seen through a clouded lens.
Or moonbeams.
“Why’d you come back, Jake?” she asked. “Why are you doing this to us?”
He let out a breath, long enough for her to know that he heard what she was asking.
“I don’t know,” he said, voice low. “I just knew I couldn’t not come.”
Julie bunched the comforter under her chin. “Is this closure? Is this what closure feels like?”
“Hell if I know,” Jake said. “Doesn’t feel like it, to me.”
“Nor to me,” Julie agreed quietly. “I’d kind of hoped that it would.”
Jake shifted on his back, and Julie thought she felt his hand slide over the blanket, just a breath away from where her knees were curled under the comforter. Not touching, not reaching, just close by.
“What does it feel like,” he asked, “to you?”
Julie couldn’t read his expression, but the blue light from the room seemed to cast him in an ethereal haze, like a sea dream. She nestled a little deeper into the pillow, half her face hidden in it.
“An alternate reality?” Julie suggested, not sure it fit, but it was the closest she could figure.
Jake’s nose twitched. “Like in another universe, where we never split up?”
Julie shrugged, knowing he could hear it from the rustling of the comforter.
“I’d like to think we’d be doing a little better than this,” she said, not really teasing, not really not.
Jake scoffed. “Julia, the shittiest day with you is better than the absolute best day without; you have to know that.”
As soon as he said it, his mouth shut sharply, like he couldn’t believe he’d said it aloud. Julie closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the pillow and the comforter, wishing she could burrow into them and avoid dealing with the way her heart flipped at Jake’s words.
She wanted to launch herself across the bed at him, kiss him senseless, for saying a thing like that. She wanted to slap him, for coming back and being sweet, when he knew he’d leave again. She wanted to do anything, other than admit that, inexplicably, it was the same for her.
“You too, Lieutenant,” she mumbled into the pillow.
She heard him suck in a breath, and when she opened her eyes, he was staring hard at the ceiling, his jaw tight. His chest expanded as he held onto that breath, then he let it out slowly.
“Fun fact,” he said, his voice almost uncertain, “it’s Lieutenant Commander, now.”
Julie’s lips parted in shock. Jake had been wanting that promotion since before they got together; she knew how much it meant to him.
“Jake!” she hissed, indignantly, shifting her comforter-covered knee to bump his hand. “That’s amazing! When did this happen? How?”
He pressed his lips together, like he was trying to hide a proud smile, but his eyes still crinkled with it.
“Ah, you know how it is,” he deferred, waving a hand dismissively. “You put in enough time, they come around—”
“Jake,” Julie chided, and his eyes flitted over in her direction, without really looking. He shrugged, and the smile faded slightly, replaced by an equally honest expression.
“Turns out, China Lake has a lot of weapons testing missions,” he said, carefully. “Nothing dangerous, you know, just waiting for some schmuck who’s fast enough and dumb enough to take ‘em. Fly enough of those in a row, some admirals start noticing.”
Julie hated that answer.
It was everything she’d been afraid would happen when Jake left Top Gun. That he’d fly with tenacity—too good to be reckless, too driven to slow down, too unmoored to be moderated. Taking assignments he knew he could execute, not noticing how close the calls were getting.
Jake’s hand had settled on her knee when she’d nudged him, his thumb running slowly over the bend of it. It was a subconscious movement, muffled by the blanket, and Julie doubted he knew he was doing it.
“How many is ‘enough’?” she asked.
Jake’s thumb stilled, then started its drifting motion again. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to; Julie knew the number was extraordinary.
“Well,” she said, after a beat, pushing through her anxiety, “congratulations, Lieutenant Commander. I know how much that means to you.”
Jake’s hand tightened on her knee, just briefly.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice thick with an emotion Julie didn’t want to try to name.
“Of course,” she said, quietly.
The room was still for a moment, and Julie could hear the unmoderated footfall of her nephews upstairs, as they shuffled around in the attic, getting ready for bed.
“What else goes on,” Jake asked, something almost whimsical in his voice, “in that alternate universe?”
Julie smiled; this felt safer. “I mean, UT probably went to the SEC, instead of A&M.”
Jake chuckled, and Julie warmed to the sound. How light it felt, coming off his chest, the way his cheeks rounded with it.
“I feel pandered to,” he said, “but for the sake of my Longhorns, I’ll take it.”
“Awfully magnanimous of you,” Julie said drily. “Your turn.”
Jake hummed, thinking. “I mean, I’d probably still be in San Diego.”
“North Island?” Julie prompted.
“Nah,” Jake shook his head, his hair scratching the pillow. “Maybe Del Mar. Or, maybe I’d get a loan that’d take me till I’m 70 to pay off, to get a little place in La Jolla.”
Julie smiled; she could see it.
“No garage,” she continued the mental picture. “You’d have to circle the street for 40 minutes to find parking on a weeknight. But it’d have a staircase down to the beach, and you could go swimming in the morning.”
“You could hunt for seashells at low tide,” Jake said, and Julie pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
“I’m there, am I?” she asked.
Jake turned his head to look at her, the motion so sudden that their noses almost brushed. His eyes seemed darker in the blue moonlight. Julie felt the bed shift as his body turned to follow his head, his hand sliding lower down her leg, smoothing over the comforter, over her calf.
“You’re always there,” he said simply.
Julie closed her eyes, trying to convince herself to roll over. Slide back on the pillow, remember this was an exercise in futility, laugh it off as exhaustion. But she stayed, and Jake stayed, and she drew in a deep breath.
“What else?” she asked.
Jake hummed, and she felt it through the pillow. “Do you want a dog? We could have a dog. Maybe a Bernese Mountain Dog; I hear you’re partial to those.”
Julie rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself. “You’re a dork,” she muttered.
Jake grinned, his teeth flashing white. “Yeah, but think how cute it’d be, a little ball of black and white fur. He’d do agility and stuff, and go on your beach walks with you, when I’m away.”
Some of Julie’s humor faded at the thought that even in this fantasy, Jake would still leave her.
“But you wouldn’t go that often, right?” she asked. Her voice sounded small, and Jake’s hand was rubbing circles on her calf.
“Only when I had to,” Jake said, reassuring.
Julie’s chin tilted up. “Which would probably still be more often than I’d like.”
“Probably,” Jake said. “Definitely more than I’d want.”
Julie could feel the warmth of Jake’s chest through the sheets and comforter between them, and since he was practically there already, her hands skimmed under the blankets. It was a pull she couldn’t ignore, and her fingers found the soft cotton of his tshirt, feeling his heartbeat underneath it.
“But you’d come back?” she asked. Her one hand stayed on his heart, the other drifting up to the worn collar of the shirt, and her eyes followed her fingers as they brushed through the sprinkle of hair there, around to the soft skin at the side of his neck.
“Every time,” Jake said, his voice rough.
It was the moonlight, it was the stress of the holiday, it was the vision of this reality that took root in Julie’s brain, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting it, this dream, this moment, and whatever of it she could borrow in this universe.
“What would you do,” Julie whispered, “when you came back to me?”
She looked back up at him, and the desire on his face nearly knocked the breath out of her. It wasn’t just hunger, it was need; it looked like the deepest kind of longing. Julie wasn’t sure what her expression showed back to him, but she expected it was a mirror.
Jake shifted, his hand leaving her leg to come up to her face. His touch was gentle down the side of her face, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Tell me to stop,” Jake said, his voice low. “You know I will, Julia, just tell me to.”
Julie pressed her lips together, shaking her head slowly.
“Please,” Jake whispered, and Julie knew he was right, knew they’d both regret this. They cared too much to pretend this was just a fantasy, but they were just weak enough, just right enough, for each other, that it was futile.
She knew the moment he snapped, the moment he stopped fighting it, and she knew it was when he saw her decision had already been made. He reached for her and she went quickly, thighs spreading as he pulled her away from his side and over him, her knees and elbows caging him as his hands grasped her waist tightly.
Hovering just over him, Julie marveled again at the expression on his face, perfect, painful, so close.
“Again,” Julie said softly, her forehead pressing against his, close enough that she felt his shaky exhale against her cheek, as he realized what she was asking.
“Please,” Jake asked again, and Julie obliged, meeting his request with her lips as she kissed the question off his tongue.
One year ago.
Dear Julia,
God, I hope you never read this.
Knowing you might hold this letter someday makes me want to turn in my wings, because I feel sick when I think about you reading it. I hate that this is all you’d get—a letter delivered automatically, like some macabre scavenger hunt, while my brass and the flag goes to my parents. It’s an awful reason to want to marry someone, I know, but you should get everything; it’s yours already.
(I can’t believe I told you I loved you after you’d fucked my brains out on your sofa, and now I’ve told you I want to marry you in a letter that only gets delivered if I go down on this mission…strong work, as always, Seresin.)
I never thought I’d feel for someone what I feel for you. I didn’t think I was capable, but then I met you. You stood between me and Bob and didn’t back down and if you’d asked me to rip my heart out and hand it to you in that hallway at the infirmary, I probably would’ve. You’re everything, the only thing, the reason and the prayers and the answer to whatever I don’t understand. It’s fucking terrifying to feel as much as I do, and even worse to know it’s somehow pointed back to me. Against all reason and rationale, out of all the people in the world, you chose me, and I’m the luckiest man on the planet for it. That your heart in all its goodness and light, is mine…I will always struggle with whether I deserved it or not.
As I wrote that, I could immediately hear you in my head, saying something like “it’s not about deserving” or earning or anything, but I need you to understand that as real as an unconditional love is for you, it’s never been for me. There’s always conditions, always something that can make it stop, and if you’re reading this, I guess we know what our reason was. I promise on anything, Julia, I promise that I fought like hell to get back to you. If there was any other way for this to go, I would’ve taken it, and we wouldn’t be here, please know that.
Fuck, what do you say when you truly get the last word?
You're it for me, Julia, you always have been.
Loving you happened fast and it happened deep, the easiest thing I’ve ever done. I know the inverse isn’t true, that I’m not the easiest to love, but you’re so damn stubborn that it didn’t phase you. You’ve always been patient, too good to me, and you have me thinking about things beyond myself. About you after me.
It’s so cliche, but I have to say it, sweetheart—you have to let me go. You can take your time, as much as you need, but one day you’ll be ready, and you’ll choose to. I need you to be happy, to know that somewhere in the world, is your smile, like sunshine.
Let people take care of you, Julia, please. Someone will make you coffee with entirely too much sugar, go for walks at high tide and not care when their jeans get soaked, buy you breakfast burritos after hospital shifts. Someone will hold your hand as you jump into cenotes in Tulum, someone will split a stracciatella with you in Florence, someone will buy you a house and help you paint the kitchen blue. Someone will hold you when you cry, French braid your hair so it doesn’t get tangled in bed, and someone will make you laugh, so loud you’re shocked by it. I want it to be me, so fucking badly, I want to be there for every moment we should’ve had. But if it can’t, you have to let someone else do it. Please.
I'm sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you, with everything and with all of me. I love you (I can’t stop writing it) I love you. I love you. Jake
This was a bad idea.
This was a colossally bad idea that was going to leave whatever fragile truce he and Julia had come to in absolute shatters, but the moment her mouth moved over his, Jake couldn’t find it in himself to care.
He’d hauled her on top of him so she could be in charge, could pull back at any moment when she snapped out of it and realized they shouldn’t be doing this, but it hasn’t registered to him that he’d be at her mercy.
Truthfully, he would’ve been anyways.
Julia had settled her hips on his lower stomach, bracing her hand against the pillow beside him, her other hand tangling in his hair. Each brush of her nails against his scalp had his hands tightening on her waist, clutching at her almost desperately, needing her. She kissed him like she’d been waiting for it, soft noises from the back of her throat, her lips moving over him hungrily, her hand in his hair moving his head wherever she wanted, to deepen it.
When she did deepen the kiss, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips before dipping into his mouth, Jake groaned, opening for her. Julia made a pleased sound, her fingers scratching at his head, and Jake was fucked, absolutely screwed, because he’d do whatever she wanted to keep her that way—pleased with him.
Julia’s hips shifted and Jake’s stuttered when he recognized the motion of her rolling her hips over his abdomen. Her thighs were spread wide, straddling his stomach, and Jake couldn’t stop his hands from traveling down from her waist. Her pajama shorts were pushed up around her hips, and Jake didn’t know how her skin felt softer than the cotton. His fingers slid down over her thighs, feeling the muscles flex as she rocked her hips over him, and he broke away from her kiss, feeling himself go sloppy.
He nudged her chin up with his nose, trailing light kisses down her neck. Julia hummed softly, the hand in his hair tightening, and she ground down against him again. He felt her gasp when the roll of her hips pressed her core against his stomach, and Jake’s hands traced back up to her thighs to guide her. He hesitated, not sure how far was too far, and Julia made a frustrated sound, before she reached back, grabbing one of his hands, and planting it on her ass. Jake groaned, surging up to capture her lips again, as he rocked her against him, guiding the motion of her hips with his hands.
He felt giddy with her kiss, drunk on the taste and feel of her after months of sobriety. He felt like he was burning as she moved over him, soft skin, sweet sounds, strong legs, and Jake knew he needed more. He let go of her hip to smooth a hand up her waist again, dipping under the fabric of her pajamas.
Julia shivered, pushing herself off of him so he could have better access, rocking gently, like she couldn’t stop. She flipped her hair over one of her shoulders, the smell of oranges wafting over Jake like something from a dream. His fingers skimmed over the soft skin of her stomach and Julia’s head fell to the side as she sighed softly. Jake reached up with his other hand so he could cup both of her breasts, feeling the heavy weight of them in his palms, and Julia’s back arched, pressing herself into him.
God, he’d missed touching her like this.
Her hips moved languidly and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth when he flicked his thumbs over her nipples. She whispered his name, soft and needy, a miracle. He tightened his hands, lifting and feeling and teasing and Julia’s head fell back.
She was so beautiful.
Her eyes closed, her neck slack, exposed, her breath coming in short pants. If this was as far as they went, if all Jake got was a reminder of how soft her body felt under his touch, the gorgeous curves and the feel of her hips rolling over him, he knew it was more than he deserved.
“What can I do, angel?” he asked, embarrassed at how desperate he sounded, but damn it, he was. He wanted to be everything for her, whatever she needed, wanted, anything.
Julia’s head tilted back up and Jake couldn’t help the way his hips rose up to meet her, looking like that. Her brown eyes were blown wide with desire and she looked down at him through heavy lashes.
“God, you look so good, Jake,” she whispered, wetting her lips. “I missed you calling me that.”
Jake’s eyes closed, his hands stroking over her nipples again, stomach clenched as she ground against him. She had to know he’d call her anything, do whatever she wanted.
Even as it nagged in the back of his mind that she hadn’t said she missed him, just the pet name.
He felt her shifting slightly over him, and his breath punched out of him when he felt her hand over the front of his pajama pants.
Julia made a sound, almost like a purr, as she stroked her hand over his hardening length.
“Fuck, Julia,” he breathed, fighting harder than he’d like to admit to stay still under her touch.
She giggled, a sound that shouldn’t have been erotic, but had Jake curling his fists into the sheets to keep from flipping her onto her back. Shoving her thin pajamas aside and thrusting inside her, until much less innocent sounds fell from her lips.
Jake looked up at her and her eyes were shining; she knew what he was thinking. She dragged her hand up the length of his cock, rocking her hips slowly in time with her touch. The slide of her hips had pushed the hem of his tshirt up his torso, and Julia’s head tilted curiously as she looked down at him. Her hand teased through the trail of hair above the waistline of his pajama pants, and Jake could hear his panting breath echo through the room. Julia’s fingers against his skin felt like divine torture, but they also pulled Jake back to reality.
“Wait, wait,” he managed, his fingers closing around her wrist to stop her hand.
Julia pouted, a sight so damn tempting Jake almost let go of her, but he managed to resist.
“Tell me what you want, angel,” he said, nothing sexy about the urgency of his words, but needing verbal consent before they went any further. He had no idea how he was walking out of this room in one piece, but he didn’t think he could live with himself if he got carried away or hurt her like this.
“Make me feel good, Jake,” Julia’s voice was breathless but her eyes were clear. “Please.”
She knew what that word did to him, and Jake’s hips pushed up into her hand.
Damn it, be a gentleman, Seresin.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he managed, as her hand slipped inside his pajamas. Julia sighed contentedly as her fingers skimmed over his skin.
“Nor underwear, it seems,” she said, almost teasing.
“Angel,” Jake groaned when her hand closed around him. “‘m trying to do the right thing by you, here.”
Julia cut him a long look, then lifted her hips so she could pull down his flannels, all the way off his legs. Jake’s cock slapped against his stomach, an obscene sound, but Julie didn’t seem to mind.
“We’ll figure it out in the morning, Dallas,” she said, eyes darting back up to his face. She was looking at him hungrily, how he imagined he was looking at her, reconciling memory and fantasy.
Her touch was unhurried, exploratory, and Jake knew little with certainty, but he knew he wasn’t going to last if she kept playing with him like this.
He reached up, his hand curling around the back of her neck and he pulled gently. Julia came willingly, sliding her hips down his body so she could lower her face and kiss him. Jake couldn’t get enough of the way she tasted, the way the length of her body was pressed against him, the soft, subconscious way that her hips rocked against him. She whimpered when his tongue swept over her lips, and her hand fisted into the material of his tshirt, pulling him closer. She whispered his name against his lips and Jake groaned as he became aware of the drag of her hips against his thigh.
Jake pulled back from the kiss, watching her carefully as one of his hands lowered between her legs. Julia hissed when he reached the apex of her thighs, and Jake felt himself preening when he felt a spot of moisture soaking the soft fabric of her pajama shorts.
“Fuck, Jake…” Julia moaned, her hips bucking against his touch and Jake pushed the material to the side. When his finger dragged through her folds, Julia’s head fell to his shoulder as her body slackened at his touch.
“You wet for me already, baby?” Jake asked, and he meant to sound amused, but all he could hear in his own voice was awe. Julia whimpered, her hair brushing his face as she nodded into his shoulder. Jake teased her opening, pushing his finger into her core, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of her here, like this.
She was so tight, wet and warm, and clenching around just one of his fingers. Julia’s shoulders trembled slightly, and Jake understood—the intensity of this moment was much more than physical.
He needed her to come undone.
He wanted to hold her as tension seeped out of her shoulders, to see if he remembered all the ways to make her fall apart.
Jake pulled his finger out of her, soothing her gently, then he tapped on her thighs.
“Come up here, angel,” he said, another command that shouldn’t have sounded so wrecked, “need to taste you.”
Julia sucked in a sharp breath and she pushed herself off his chest, looking down at him dazedly. Jake’s heart skipped a beat at a sight he thought he’d never see again—a soft blush spreading over Julia’s cheeks. Her face tinged red, and the flush spread down her neck across her chest, disappearing under the collar of her pajamas.
“Jake, you don’t have to—”
“Baby, look at me,” he interrupted gently, and he watched as her eyes ran over his face, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the sweat glistening on his forehead. “It’s not abouthave to , it’swant to . Hell, it’s nigh onneed to. ”
She pursed her lips. “You sure?”
Jake would’ve laughed, but there was nothing funny about how desperate he felt. “I’m so fucking sure, Julia, please, let me taste you.”
She was still for a moment and then she nodded, slowly, almost shyly. Jake felt relief course through him, followed swiftly by desire, then urgency. He helped her out of her pajama shorts, then guided her as she positioned herself above him, as he settled back into the pillows at the head of the bed. Finally, finally, her knees were on either side of his head, and Jake felt her hesitate for a moment. He reached to thread his fingers through hers, and Julia squeezed his hand tightly, spreading her hips wider, as she lowered herself down.
Jake meant to go slow, meant to ease her into it.
But with her dripping cunt just a breath from his face, Jake found he was physically incapable of being patient any longer. He wound his free hand around her thigh, pulling Julia flush against his face, and moaning as she settled onto him.
Fuck, he’d missed her taste.
Jake speared his tongue through her folds, lapping at her arousal, drinking in her taste. The sounds his mouth was making against her cunt were near pornographic, but all Jake could hear was her soft gasps, and the sweet moans that followed. His tongue fucked into her, and he lifted his chin so Julia would fall forward, her clit brushing against his nose.
“Jesus, fuck, Jake,” Julia cried, her body pitching forward. She clutched at the hand he still held, and he felt her thighs quiver, as another gush of wetness coated his tongue.
Julia sank more heavily onto him, and Jake opened his eyes, looking up at her, going light headed at the sight above him.
The hand he didn’t hold was splayed against the wall behind the headboard, and Julia had braced herself against it. Her thighs were trembling and her jaw was slack, hanging open, her face wracked with pleasure.
“Honey,” she panted, her voice reedy, and Jake had never heard anything so beautiful. “You feel so good, oh my god.”
Jake licked into her, pulling her arousal into his mouth, chasing after her with his tongue. Above him, Julia keened, her hips writhing as he pressed deeper into her.
“That’s it, angel,” he managed, his words smothered against her warm core. “Ride my face, just like that; you’re doing so good.”
She whined, letting go of his hand to clutch at his hair. Jake felt his eyes roll back as Julia wound her fingers through the coarse strands, pulling him where she needed. She was grinding against his face, breathless whimpers falling from her with every swipe of his tongue.
Jake couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t think he needed it, was pretty sure he could survive off of the soft sounds and rich taste of her. He lost track of the time between her thighs; moments stretching to years and lifetimes and it still wasn’t enough, he still needed more of her, to give her more pleasure, endless.
“Please,” Julia almost sobbed, pulling him back to the present, her thighs trembling as she tugged at his hair. “I’m so fucking close, Jake, please…”
His eyes met hers and Julia’s fluttered shut as he stared up at her, his tongue fucking into her.
“Look at me,” he pulled back to gasp, his voice hoarse, and Julia whimpered, knowing it was her slick that made him sound like that. “Look at me while you come on my tongue, baby.”
Julia wrenched her eyes open, her chest heaving as her hips swiveled, her mouth falling open again.
“Jake, please,” she begged, chasing it, and Jake pulled in a deep breath before tipping her forward, latching onto her clit, and sucking hard.
Julia collapsed against the wall, her head slumping against the hand she’d braced on it. She ripped her hand out of his hair to cover her mouth as she came, tears streaming down her face, and her thighs shaking with the force of it. Jake could hear her muffled cries through her clenched fingers, and he stroked the front of her thighs, soothing her where he could reach.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, “you did so good for me, Julia, fuck, that was so hot…”
A minute later, he felt her hand tangle in his hair again, softly stroking across his head. When he looked up, Julia’s eyes were still closed as she leaned against the headboard, her body limp. Her lips pursed as she breathed out carefully, and Jake’s heart clenched that in the same way he’d reached for her thighs to ground her, she’d reached for his head, to further anchor herself. She mumbled his name, her fingers carding through his hair, and Jake waited patiently between her legs, pressing gentle kisses to wherever he could reach.
He loved seeing her like this—blissed out and sated, soft and boneless, reaching for him in spite of herself, repeating his name like a prayer.
He loved how she wasn’t self conscious about using his body for her pleasure.
He loved that she was in no hurry to leave his arms; he loved…fuck.
He loved her.
Jake tried not to react, his mind reeling with the revelation that it was simpler, and so much more complicated than anything else.
Above him, Julia pulled in a deep breath, leaning deep onto one hip to swing her leg over him. She slid down the bed, her head level with Jake’s shoulder as she settled over his arm, nestling into his side. She turned her head, her face just an inch from his shoulder, and he felt her warm breath through his tshirt.
“Thank you,” she whispered into the cotton.
Jake shook his head. “Are you kidding me, thankyou.”
She laughed, a soft, muffled sound, and Jake felt her hand run over and down his tshirt.
“Julia, you don’t have to—” he broke off when she found what she was reaching for, a soft sigh falling from her lips as her fingers closed around his cock.
“Neither did you,” she said, lightly.
Jake looked over at her as she shifted, propping herself up on her side as her hand stroked slowly down his length. She looked down his body, but he could only watch her, her eyes darkening as she licked her lips, looking down at her hand moving over him.
“Such a gentleman,” she continued, her voice lilting, “making sure I finish first. Just look at how hard you are for me, honey.”
Jake groaned, his head falling back against the pillow as she fisted him.
“Julia,” he tried again, his voice hoarse, “that was as much for me as it was for you.”
She hummed, and she let go of his cock, reaching up to pull one of his hands to between her thighs, all but purring when he cupped her core instinctively.
“Good man,” she breathed, and Jake’s hips jerked up. He opened his eyes to find her smirking, waiting for him to look at her before she spit into her hand. Jake pushed back a groan, and Julia reached down for his cock again. The slide of her slicked up hand felt heavenly, and after the prolonged arousal of Julia sitting on his face, Jake knew this wasn’t going to last long.
His fingers flexed where she’d placed them, unable to stop himself from wandering and needing the distraction. Her core was still warm, still wet from his mouth and her orgasm, and Julia whined softly when his fingers pulled through her.
“This is for me, Jake,” she whispered, pulling her fist up his cock. “Feel how good you made me come? I want to do that for you.”
“Baby…” he wasn’t sure what he was fighting for, not when her hand felt so good on him, when her voice sounded so good in his ear. Not when her cunt felt so warm around his fingers, not when she let out a quiet gasp as he pushed two fingers into her, stroking her soft walls.
“Wait,” she complained, breathless, “this is supposed to be your turn—”
She broke off on a moan when his thumb pressed over her clit. He rubbed small circles over her, rewarded by the rolling of her hips, and Julia’s eyes fluttering shut. Her hands tightened over his cock, pulling harder, and Jake’s hips widened as he bucked up into her. His thigh brushed against the front of her knees, and Julie whimpered, her hips canting towards him.
“Fuck, Julia,” Jake groaned, pulling his fingers out of her, and guiding her; she moaned in relief when he slotted his thigh between her legs.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” Jake chuckled. “You gonna ride my thigh while you’re working my cock?”
Julia’s hips were already dragging against his leg, and Jake gritted his teeth at the sight of her arousal coating his thigh. She cried his name as the hair on his leg brushed over her sensitive core, and she ground herself against him.
“That’s so hot, angel, you’re so gorgeous. A fucking dream, using my body to get yourself off.” Jake knew he was rambling, but couldn’t help himself, couldn’t stop. “My mouth, my thighs, my fingers, it’s all for you, isn’t it, stroke that cock, baby, want to come for you…”
Julia was writhing next to him, fucking herself against his leg while she pleasured him with her hand.
“You feel so good, Jake,” she moaned, her thighs jerking when Jake’s fingers found her clit again. “Honey, I can’t—”
“You can,” Jake gritted, guiding her motion against his thigh. Julia whimpered, her body slacking as he helped her, and if that wasn’t the biggest ego boost, her trust. “You can do it, angel, you feel so good. God, your hand milking me like I know that cunt would, fuck, i can feel you shaking. Let me have it Julia, please, I need—”
“Jake,” she cried, her hips speeding up and her hand matching it. She looked so damn beautiful, working him and working herself over him, and Jake felt his spine begin to tingle.
“I’m almost there, angel,” he told her. “You feel so good, you’re so good for me, will you come for me, please, fuck, Julia—”
She turned sharply into his chest, muffling her cries in his tshirt as her body shook. Jake felt her orgasm roll through her, her thighs locking around his leg, her shoulders trembling as she turned into his chest, and he couldn’t hold off any longer.
He thrust into her fist a few more times and then he came with a hoarse groan, white ribbons of cum coating her hand and his tshirt. He heard Julie whimper into his chest as her hand continued to work him, and Jake tried not to black out from the force of his orgasm, clutching desperately onto the only person who’d ever been able to ground him.
He didn’t know how tightly he was holding her to him until he realized her hair was scraping against his cheek. His chest was heaving and his head was pounding, sweat cooling on his skin as he felt a shiver work over Julia, and he loosened his death grip on her.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, running a hand over her hair, down the side of her face.
Julia’s eyes were closed but she nodded, a sleepy smile on her face.
“I’m sticky,” she mumbled. “But good.”
Jake chuckled, relieved and amused. “I can probably help with that.”
He untangled himself from her, slipping into the bathroom to grab a warm washcloth. When he came back into the room, the sight of Julia, eyes closed and body splayed, nearly undid him. He cleaned her up carefully, hating every subconscious wince and grimace she made from her sensitive state. He dropped the washcloth back in the bathroom, and picked up his discarded flannels from the base of the bed. Julia’s pajama shorts were ruined, as was his tshirt, which he peeled off. He was hesitant to crawl back into the bed with their current undress, but Julia waved an arm in his general direction.
“The room’s freezing, and I already told you we’ll deal with it in the morning,” she said sleepily. “C’mere.”
He didn’t stand a chance.
He clambered into bed, telling his heart to chill the hell out when Julia reached back for him. She pulled his arm around her, tucking herself into his chest, and snuggling back into him. Her curls were scratching against his jaw, and her feet were freezing, but he pulled the comforter up over them, wondering how fucked he was, if he wouldn’t change a thing.
#jake hangman seresin#jake “hangman” seresin#jake hangman seresin fic#jake seresin smut#hangman x OC#jake seresin x OC#hangman x OC smut#jake seresin x julie floyd
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
(S)witch Team?
Relationship(s): Lt. Jake "Hangman" Seresin/Original Female Character, Lt. Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Original Female Character, Lt. Natasha "Phoenix" Trace/Original Female Character
Words: 2,200
Warnings: None
Summary: Hangman and Rooster think they have a chance at dating their friend Knockout, but Phoenix is convinced they're wasting their breath.
She was just a friend. That's it. Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, and Knockout were like 4 peas in a pod. She had known them for years, been by their side in battle, had seen their best and worst. She was there when Hangman got his air to air kill. She was there when Rooster had graduated aviation school. She was there when Phoenix had been given her call sign. They were all inseparable, despite the constant bickering and arguing that happened when they were together.
She was a friend.
She was their best friend.
And yet, somehow, Rooster and Hangman got the idea that they had a chance with her. Phoenix wasn't sure when exactly it started, but she noticed how both men began to eye Knockout when she walked into the room; their eyes would skim her up and down and they'd lick their lips. Then it evolved to blatant flirting with her. They weren't shy with their comments about how beautiful she looked, or how she'd look nice sitting on someone's knee. But when they were questioned about this newfound interest, they passed it off as them just teasing their friend. And she didn't mind it. She laughed along with their flirts. Even threw some back. And then finally both Hangman and Rooster started going at each other over who had a better chance at scoring her.
Phoenix was sick of hearing the two of them brag about themselves to each other, claiming they were what she was looking for when in reality nothing could be further from the truth. Any time she walked away, they were at each other's throat.
"She likes me more!" they'd say, and then rattle off some bullshit example trying to prove them right. Like if Knockout hugged one of them but not the other, that was proof. Or if she tossed out a specific flirt, that was proof too. They were like school children fighting over a new toy.
"I'm gonna go get another drink." Knockout said, stacking her pool cue against the table and walking away. As soon as she was out of earshot, the arguing started.
"Give up, Bradshaw. You don't stand a chance." Hangman immediately got the first word in.
"Don't know how you managed to become a pilot with how god damn blind you are." Rooster spit right back.
"The day she stoops so low as to choose you over me is the day Earth stops spinning." smirked Hangman, twirling that toothpick in his mouth.
"I'm the better man for her!"
"No, I am!"
"You're both wrong." Phoenix cut in.
"Stay outta this, sweetheart." Hangman told her.
"No. I'm tired of hearing you both fight over a woman you'll never get in a million years."
"Just because you're not eye catching, doesn't mean the rest of us aren't either." insulted Hangman.
"I'm just trying to protect you both. Although I'm starting to think you deserve the humiliation."
"Protect us from what? Good sex? Go be a cock block somewhere else." said Rooster with a roll of his eyes.
"She's gay." blurted Phoenix. Both men turned to her and laughed at her.
"Oh yeah?" challenged Hangman. "What the hell gives you that impression?"
"Well, for one, she checks out women more often than you do her."
"All women do that." replied Rooster, not at all convinced.
"Yeah, that's not proof of anything." Hangman backed him up.
"Alright. How about the fact that she's getting real close and personal with that woman at the bar?" Phoenix then pointed out, extending a finger toward Knockout and a pretty little blonde hanging out at the bar top.
Knockout was leaning her back against the top as the woman she was chatting up stood in front of her, real close and cozy. Both women were laughing at something or other, so much so that the woman had doubled over and braced her hands on Knockout as she laughed. Knockout didn't seem to mind the contact at all.
"That's nothing." commented Hangman with a scoff. "I've seen women do way more than that and not be gay."
"Porn doesn't count." chuckled Phoenix.
"Oh please. I've seen you adjust another woman's bra strap for her." Rooster brought up as if he hit the nail on the head.
"You're right. I did." admitted the brunette pilot. "And then I fucked her afterwards."
"Bullshit." both men dismissed her. Phoenix shrugged giving up on the fight.
"Fine. Continue this little battle. But when Knockout makes a fool out of you, don't come crying to me and say I didn't warn ya."
"She'd choose me in a heartbeat. I bring more to the table.... and the bedroom." smirked Hangman, once again twirling that stupid toothpick.
"Of course you have to bring stuff to the bedroom; women have to find someway to get an orgasm since you can't find the clit." spat Rooster, getting up in the other man's face, begging for a fight.
"Will you two idiots stop arguing?" came Knockout's voice. "The entire bar can hear you." she laughed.
The trio turned to her, watching as she approached them with a fresh round for each of them. She handed a drink to everyone, with many thanks.
"We're not arguing, sweetheart." smiled Hangman.
"Yeah. We're just talking." Rooster followed up.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head."
"Then why the hell are you two yelling about cock blocking and clits?"
Phoenix sat back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest and awaiting how the two of them were gonna get out of this one.
"No no, pretty girl, you misheard us." diverted Rooster, and Phoenix groaned.
"Okay. I can't take it anymore. Girl, they've been fighting with each other over who has a better chance at getting into your pants!" Phoenix cried out. She threw her hands up in the air in exhaustion. If this thing didn't end soon, she'll go drown herself in the ocean.
"Thanks, Phoenix." both men deadpanned. They shot daggers at her. But Knockout just laughed.
"Seriously? That's what this whole thing was about?"
"Yes, and I'm tired of it. They won't shut up about who's superior."
"And?" Knockout asked, turning her attention back to the two men. They leaned against their pool cues.
"And what?" Rooster urged, confused.
"Who's superior?" she demanded to know. Hangman and Rooster took one look at each other and then exploded.
"I'm obviously the better man!" they yelled out simultaneous.
"Tell this idiot you wouldn't give him a second glance even if your life depended on it!" cried Rooster, nodding his head to the pilot beside him.
"No, tell this idiot that he needs to get his head out of his ass and set some realistic expectations for himself!" Hangman followed up.
Knockout laughed. She didn't say a single word, just laughed. She doubled over, trying to hold herself up by the pool table as she cackled out the most guttural laugh she could muster.
"What's so funny?!" the men demanded.
"You two!" she laughed back.
"Come on, be serious! If you had to choose between us, who would you choose?!" the offer was slapped on the metaphorical table by Hangman. For once, Rooster teamed up with him and backed him up. They both looked at her expectantly.
She straightened up, wiping her eyes clear of the tears that had accumulated. But when she saw their unwavering expressions, she got more serious.
"Come on, guys. You're joking, right?"
"No they're not. I keep telling them you're not interested." chimed Phoenix.
"She's convinced you're gay." Rooster rolled his eyes.
"Oh really?" Knockout said in disbelief, turning her attention to the woman. Her eyes were wide with playful contemption as she stared the woman down.
Phoenix shrunk back in her chair, not liking the odds of this conversation. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she had Knockout pegged all wrong and Rooster and Hangman had an actual bite on her.
"Yeah, tryna tell us both that we're wasting our breath." Rooster brought the conversation back, allowing Phoenix a break from the stares of the woman.
"I don't think you're wasting your breath." commented Knockout in a sweet voice. She stepped a little closer to the two men, putting up the flirtatious act. Or, well, maybe it wasn't an act. Phoenix wasn't so sure anymore.
"So tell us. Who would you choose?" Hangman asked again.
Knockout looked between them for a moment, entertaining their idea. Still, even if she wasn't gay, Phoenix was positive she wouldn't spare them the time. They were friends, damn it! She wasn't interested in them!
Too many seconds had passed for their liking. The two of them urged her again for an answer, cocking their eyebrows and getting closer to her.
But she backed away from them. She gave a sweet smile, then turned towards Phoenix in her seat, approached her, climbed in her lap, took her face in her hands, and crashed their lips.
Phoenix's breath hitched and her entire body tensed underneath the woman. Her eyes widened, her brain stopped working. But Knockout grinded into her lap and tangled her fingers in the babyhairs underneath her bun, and Phoenix was gone.
Her hands grabbed the woman's waist, keeping her locked in her lap. Phoenix probed her tongue into Knockout's mouth, mapping her out. Both women moaned lightly, making Phoenix's head swim with endorphines.
But it was all ended when Knockout pulled away. She held a smirk on her kissed lips, confident, proud. She used her thumb to wipe away the glisten that had accumulated on Phoenix's mouth. And then she slid off her lap and grabbed her drink she left on the pool table.
Phoenix's eyes snapped between her and the men. Her male friends seemed to be just as surprised as she was. Jaws had slackened to the floor, eyes had gone as wide as saucers, and maybe one of them popped a boner but she wasn't really paying attention to that.
Pride had swelled in her chest at seeing them like this. She was right. She had been right all along.
"Told you!" she smirked triumphantly. Her cry of victory pulled the men out of their shell-shock.
"I can't fucking believe it." murmured Hangman.
"Oh my god. She's gay." Rooster seemed to say more so to himself than anyone else, like he was convincing himself. Knockout just kept sipping on her drink. "You're gay." he repeated, turning his attention to her.
"Oh you both are so adorable. I'm not gay." she chuckled. And the three of them jumped to attention.
"What?!" they all yelled incredulously.
"You're not?!" Phoenix sputtered in disbelief. "But- the kiss!"
"No. I'm not." she grabbed Rooster by the collar of his uniform and yanked until he bent to her level. "I'm bi." and then she gave him a kiss just as heated as the one she gave Phoenix, forcing her tongue into his mouth.
They battled tongues for a good moment, getting him all heated and needy, before she pulled back and gave his cheek a quick pat. His eyes were clouded with confused lust, watching her turn to walk away.
"I'll catch you guys back on base." she threw over her shoulder.
"Hey! Wait!" Hangman called after her. She stopped and turned back around with a knowing grin.
"What?" she held her hands on her hips.
"What about me?!" he asked, offended.
Gingerly, she stepped up to him and held his chin between her fingers. His eyes were hopeful as he watched her every move.
"Get rid of that god damn toothpick and then we'll talk." she presented the offer. Without missing a beat, Hangman spit the chewed up piece of wood to the floor and then pulled her in by her waist to kiss her.
This time, it wasn't Knockout that lead the kiss. Hangman was the one to pry her lips open with his tongue, and his hands gripped both her ass and her loose locks. He kissed her with ferver, eager for more, begging for more, trying for more. But she didn't allow him more. She placed her hands on his chest and forced him away. He was left with just as dazed an expression as Rooster.
She patted his cheek like she did Rooster and chuckled. She caressed his face in her hands, pressing her thumb between his lips. He gladly sucked it into his mouth.
"Desperation looks good on you, Lieutenant." she said, and then pulled away completely. She reached down to the ground, picking up his disregarded toothpick and stuck it back between his slack lips. "Don't litter." was all she said, and then she turned to walk away again, this time managing to get out the door.
#top gun#top gun: maverick#jake “hangman” seresin#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#natasha “phoenix” trace#original female character#ofc#fanfiction#imagine#oneshot
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay so I watched Top Gun: Maverick. Thoroughly. Paused it, took notes, wrote foreshadows/arcs/parallels, etc. and there are some film technical words as to how a film is meant to flow.
And guys. This film did an amazing job.
I wrote it on Word Document, but I think I can copy + paste it into two parts on here, right? Would anyone like to read it?
#top gun maverick#top gun notes#writers#top gun maverick binge#top gun#would anyone read it#im tagging Hangster#hangster#because it’s in the notes#barely#but it’s there#pete maverick mitchell#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake “hangman” seresin#tom iceman kazansky#penny top gun#goose top gun#filmmaking#film#movies
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
hiiii, so i might have written a christmas one shot where jake and bradley spend christmas at the bradshaw's, it's very fluffy and sweet and icemav make an appearance too, everyone lives, there is some hurt but it is followed by comfort, and i'll be very happy if you read it <3 merry christmas!!
#hangster#sereshaw#jake “hangman” seresin#bradley “rooster” bradshaw#top gun#top gun: maverick#icemav#pete “maverick” mitchel#tom “iceman” kazansky#carole bradshaw#nick “goose” bradshaw#rooster x hangman#hangman top gun#rooster top gun#ao3 link#one shot#fluff#hurt/comfort#light angst#established relationship#found family#jake seresin#bradley bradshaw
31 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
danisanchezte-blog
@danisanchezte
hpaibizid
HPAI.BIZ.ID
stokelymitchell
MERCURIAL DAMNATION
fullkryptoniteheart
Без названия
fullkryptoniteheart
Без названия