#jake seresin maverick
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Wants and Needs
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
Summary: Jake “Hangman” Seresin sets his sights on you, Rooster’s best friend, but it doesn’t take long for you to understand what type of man the cocky, blond pilot is. Unfortunately for Hangman, you have no interest in a womanizer.
Wanrings/Notes: eventual smut (so 18+) This is very similar to my other fic because that one was basically a wip of what this turned out to be. Also: Hangman’s ego, fluff, flirting, protective angry Rooster.
Words: 7020
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Jake Seresin had never been nervous a day in his life. Everything he did, he did with the utmost confidence; Each new challenge he set for himself he attacked head-on, but with a level of arrogance that he managed to feel put him above his peers. He was stronger than his teammates, infinitely more good-looking, and he owned the sky. But somehow, all of that dissipated the moment you stepped into Penny’s bar and into his life.
Normally, he wouldn’t care about a random beautiful woman. He’s had plenty, and plenty of women have been intimidated by his presence; so much so that a word from his lips sent them into a fit of fumbling sentences accompanied by flushed cheeks that looked more like the consequence of a day laying under the sun in 90 degree heat. His ended his time with them, somewhat respectfully of course, after a single night to try and find a woman in the bar that could be herself around him, but that was a rare woman at best. A rare woman that he found in you.
When you walked into the bar and he saw you for the first time, he lost his breath and immediately choked on the sip of beer he had just taken, coughing in such a way that the other pilots looked at him as if he was dying. Payback had smacked him on the back a few times until Jake spit out a couple ‘I’m fine’s’ and shooed his hand away.
You hadn’t even noticed him, and he feared what might happen to his reputation if he lost his composure when you undoubtedly, eventually would. Surely though, you wouldn’t do much better once your eyes landed on him. Surely you would have instant daydreams of his mouth on yours as he took you in the supply closet of the bar, just as he did. All women had a weakness for him, and the likelihood of you being the exception was as rare as a woman who could keep her confidence in his presence.
He would be fine. You would look at him and get a flush on your cheeks that he wouldn’t be able to help but picture as absolutely gorgeous, and he would once again gain the upper hand. He would just have to talk to you first; take control of the situation; make the first move. So he did.
He stood straighter from his leaned position against the wall—as if his Captain had just walked in the room—and set his pool cue aside, much to the dismay of the other pilots playing. Making his way over to you was easier than he thought. He didn’t stumble or bump into furniture, instead walking with sure steps.
With each step closer, he found it harder and harder to deny the beauty that a part of him hoped he had simply imagined. You’d been a good thirty feet away seconds ago, and maybe that distance had blurred some of your features. Maybe his mind had seen what he wanted to rather than the reality of it. But then he was next to you, taking deep breaths, and breaking the silence with an easygoing ‘Hey.’
You turned then looked him up and down once before meeting his eyes. And it was confirmed. You were as stunning as that part of him hoped you wouldn’t be, and you had an immediate hold on him.
“You’re a pilot,” you said, nothing detectable in your tone—no awe or amazement—and you turned again to accept the drink that Penny handed you with a smile. “Thanks, Pen.”
“Anything for you, hon. On the house. And welcome back,” the older woman replied, then shot a raised eyebrow at Jake.
She knew. She always knew. The bar owner was tricky that way; could read her patrons like a book and Jake was no exception. She’d warned more than one woman of his nature and he just prayed she could manage to hold off until he charmed you enough to form your own impression of him.
“Anyway,” he said, frowning at Penny before returning his full attention to you, “I’m Hangman,” and he reached his hand out to shake yours.
Staring up at him, you took a sip of your drink, lips wrapping so perfectly around the straw that he felt his pants uncontrollably tighten. He shook it off and gifted you one of his best dimpled smiles.
Tentatively, you placed your hand in his and gave him a single shake before retreating. “Hangman,” you questioned around your straw. “What kind of a callsign is that?”
“Well, they thought Hungman would bring about more questions.”
“Because of its inaccuracy?”
“Hardly, sweetheart.”
You looked down the narrow space separating your bodies to the slight bulge in his pants which thankfully wasn’t so noticeable as to be considered offensive, if you could even really tell the state he was in at all. Humming, you met his eyes again. “As much fun as I’m sure confirming that for myself would be, I have some people to meet, and you’ve now made me three minutes late.”
He leaned against the bar, arm bracing him for support. “I can’t imagine a night with them would end better than a night spent with me. I can guarantee I’d be more satisfying company.”
You squinted with sarcastic suspicion. “Is that so?”
“I’m more than happy to prove it to you if you’d like,” he said with a smirk.
“You could definitely try, Mr. Hangman, but I actually want to spend time with my friends tonight.” Then you passed him.
His eyes followed you making your way in the exact direction he had come from when he approached you, greeted by the wide smiles and hugs of his teammates. Phoenix gave you a big squeeze, Payback, a side hug, and lastly, worst of all, Rooster bent down to give you a kiss on the cheek.
So many women in the world, plenty in this town, and the only one to have made him choke on a liquid was comfortable enough with his sort-of-rival to have his lips on your skin. Now Jake figured he could either leave, like a sane man, or go get his balls busted by Rooster since you clearly will have told the group about his failed attempt to charm you by the time he returned. But Jake Seresin was not a weak man. He didn’t get embarrassed. You hadn’t rejected him, at least not entirely, so what reason did he have for not going back over and being the flirt his coworkers already knew him to be?
So he did exactly that; walked back over, grabbed his cue and sat on one of the stools within the circle of the group, cocky grin back on his face as if your last interaction never happened.
“Y/N,” Phoenix began as she sassily rolled her eyes,” this is Hangman.”
His smile almost dropped from surprise. They didn’t know. If they did they would be mocking him by now for striking out for the first time in his life.
“Hangman, huh?” You smirked.
“Jake,” he said and stuck his hand out to shake yours, holding his breath for the moment your soft skin touched his again. “Seresin.”
“Jake,” you repeated, and he felt a tingle make its way through his veins. “I like that better than Hangman.”
Phoenix snorted as she lined up her cue for a shot. “Just about anyone would.”
That dig he didn’t mind. But when Rooster draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you close to playfully say, “Keep away from this one though, Y/N. His arrogance is mind-numbing and his conversation leaves plenty to be desired,” Jake felt the heavy urge to tackle him from his seat.
“Well, I’ll have to decide that for myself, won’t I.”
Rooster shrugged. “If you enjoy torturing yourself,” he said, then he removed himself from you to gulp his beer dry and take his shot at the pool table.
Jake swallowed as you stared at one another, waiting for everyone else to direct their attention elsewhere before he asked, “So you know Rooster.”
“I do. Childhood friends. Our fathers flew together some before Goose met Maverick.”
“Oh, that is incredibly inconvenient,” he said, turning his head to confirm no one was paying attention before stepping into your space, making you walk backwards until you were both out of view. “He’s sure to poison you against me.”
“If you don’t do that yourself, you mean,” you chuckled, and Jake fought the urge to laugh with you. But he did smile. You were just a touch too sassy, and he loved it. “You know once they bother to look around, they will see that we are both missing.”
“Let them think what they want.”
“Oh no, Hangman—”
“Jake.”
“—I just arrived in town and I don’t need my best friend giving me a lecture about men already. He’s very good at them,” you snorted and took a sip of your drink. “It’s incredibly irritating.”
He nodded and placed his hand flat on the wall beside your head. “So what you’re saying is once we start something we will have to keep it quiet for a bit.” Then he leaned in closer, wrecking the carefully crafted distance between your lips. “I’m fine with that, as long as it’s not quiet forever.”
You put your own palm on his chest before he could get any closer, but still, it was only a few inches that kept you apart. He couldn’t keep his eyes from darting to your lips as you spoke. “There will be nothing for us to start, Jake Seresin. Based on the majority of what you have said to me in the very limited time I have known you, I’m not convinced you have good intentions.”
Your breath fanned his lips. So close. They were so close to his, and he needed to feel them.
“And I don’t have an interest in spending much time with a man who wants one thing and one thing only.” You shoved him gently and giggled at how he stumbled.
“Who said I only want one thing,” he asked as he rubbed his chest in the spot where your hand had been.
Rolling your eyes, you said, “I’ve known men like you my whole life. Somehow, I doubt you will be able to convince me otherwise.”
“I’m always up for a challenge.”
You grinned in a way that squeezed his heart and said, “Well now you have one,” before walking back into the sight of your friends and his teammates.
You thought Rooster had the strongest hugs, which could crush your lungs and snap your rib like a giant snapping a toothpick, but it was nothing compared to those of your shared honorary uncle.
“I’m so glad you came. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in a year,” Maverick said as he finally released you. His smile rivaled the brightness of the sun as he looked between you and Rooster. “Brad’s going to show you around?”
“That’s the plan. Just two wildlings on the loose around millions of dollars of vehicles and equipment,” Rooster replied as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. As kids you were destructive, and that was putting it nicely. Neither of your families could have expensive things in the home, and when the two of you were put together, it was like the apocalypse had come to town in the form of two tiny monsters. “We should get a move on,” he continued. “Lots to do. Lots to see. Lots to destroy.”
“Alright, alright,” Mav laughed, lightly patting Rooster on the bicep. “But I want the both of you to come to dinner tonight at Pen’s.”
“I think that’s doable,” you said.
Maverick clapped once. “Great! That’s great! You guys go, and come over around seven, yea?”
“Sure.”
“Alright, Brad, give her full tour. Don’t skip a thing.”
“Will do, Mav.”
You both watched as Maverick slipped his arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket and threw a leg over the seat of his bike. The engine echoed in the space and when he rounded the corner, he tossed you a wave which you happily returned.
“He seems to be doing well.”
Rooster laughed, “He’s just excited for you to be here. Wants to move up the wedding I think, as well,” he said, then started towards the door that led back into the main building, which he held open for you. “Ok, so what do you want to see first?”
“So, what do you think?”
Rooster had his eyebrows raised and arms out as he motioned to the rows of planes, one of which he usually flew during missions. “Brad, it’s all amazing. Seriously, I love it. I haven’t seen this stuff up close since dad brought me when I was five.”
With a snort, he said, “Anything you would’ve seen then is now ancient,” but then his smile fell and he cleared his throat. “How are you doing with all of that?”
“Fine.”
Rooster sighed your name.
“Really, Bradley, I’m fine,” you said as casually as you could. “I wasn’t, so I ended up spending a year alone, and now I am, so I moved here to be as close as possible to the people I have left.” It was a smart choice, you knew. Perhaps, the best choice you could have made. When your father died you weren’t sure how to cope but being around Rooster and Mav now gave you the comfort you hadn’t even realized you had been craving for a year. “I’m happy here. I know I’ve only been back a week, but,” you took a breath, “I don’t know, it’s something in the air. I feel like this is where I am supposed to be.”
Rooster beamed as he linked your arm with his and started to stroll along one of the concrete pathways. “Something in the air, huh? I think—”
“Hold on,” you paused, jerking him backwards. “Where is that coming from?”
He waited a second in silence with you, but the moment he heard the harsh bark of the number one-sixty-two, he knew exactly from where it was originating. He snorted. “This way.”
“What?”
“Come on. I’ll show you.” He pulled you along, around the corner to a long stretch of black pavement. “Drills,” Rooster said, bringing you closer to the two men ahead of you, one barking out numbers, the other doing push-ups in time with the barks. “When uncle Mav started training us, he made up this game where one plane tries to ‘shoot down’ the other and whoever loses has to do two-hundred push-ups when they get back to base. It keeps us on our toes.”
“Damn, that’s—”
“A beating,” Rooster chuckled. “Looks like it’s Hangman today. He’ll be a peach but try to ignore him. I’ll introduce you to Cyclone.”
“O-Ok.”
The cold look of the older handsome man before you morphed into a smile the moment he took his eyes off Jake and put them on you. “You must be Y/N,” he said.
“Yep,” Rooster replied, popping the P, then turned to you while motioning to the man. “Y/N, this is Cyclone.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Sir.”
“Oh, don’t bother with the formalities,” Cyclone waved a hand. “Right now, the only one who needs to worry about that is Hangman here,” he said, slapping the now-standing blond on his naked back.
You had tried your best, truly, not to look at him—though you could feel the heat of his stare on you—because you knew for a fact that if you looked at him your knees would wobble. And so you steeled yourself the best you could before you let your gaze wander from one man to the other.
A whimper nearly escaped past your lips that you struggled to tamp down. The sight of him, shirtless and practically glistening from the sunsets light shining on his sweaty torso, was almost enough to make you surrender yourself to him right then and there. His chest was still heaving from the intensity of the workout as droplets of perspiration forged rivers over and around the muscles of his abdomen. When your eyes traveled up to his face, his own were glued to your mouth; and it was only then that you realized you had one half of your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.
When you released it and darted your tongue out to wet the dryness of that lip, his eyes finally met yours. He swallowed hard, adam’s apple bombing harshly, and you thanked God that Rooster found whatever Cyclone was saying to be so interesting, because if he saw the way you were looking at the blond pilot, he would surely lock you up and throw away the key.
“Are you going to the bar tonight,” Cyclone asked, “to help set up for the new class?”
“Can’t,” Rooster said. “We’ve got dinner with Mav and Pen. But we’ll be there for the Fresh Meat Party tomorrow.”
Jake looked away from you then, but you didn’t miss the tiny quirk of his lips. Regardless of what might happen at the recruits’ party tomorrow night, for the sake of your sanity you just hoped he would have the common decency to wear a shirt.
You were forced to hold you drink close to your chest to avoid knocking it into the loads of pilots packed into the medium-sized bar. Everyone, pilots and some of their significant others, had about two inches of breathing room, but you seemed to be the only one struggling with it. Maybe because pilots were used to being in somewhat tight quarters. And maybe because those pilots’ girlfriends were more than happy to have their bodies smashed up against their man, if not only for the sake of making sure every single woman knew he’d be taken.
But you were both single and unaccustomed to cramped spaces. And for the first time, you were beginning to worder if you had claustrophobia that had just laid dormant for your entire life. You couldn’t even manage to squeeze your way through the bodies to get back to Rooster and your friends. And calling for them was out of the question. Your voice would undoubtedly be drowned out by the roar of combined laughter, shouting, and clinking glasses.
Leaving your drink on the bar, you used both free hands to part the bodies and shimmy yourself through until you could reach one side of the building. The wall felt cool to your skin as you propped yourself against it and got a decent breath for the first time in the night. A fresh breeze from the closest open window penetrated the cloud of heat surrounding you.
“You did pretty well escaping that,” you heard from your left. You whipped your head to the side to find one of the pilots—without question, a new recruit—standing awfully close, one shoulder against the wall as he took sips from his beer.
His smile put all of his shining, white teeth on display, but there was a cocky edge to it. You knew most of the pilots were like this. The danger of their job and their near physical perfection gave them a certain level of confidence few others possessed, but you were getting a little sick of the panty-dropping grin—well, unless it was coming from one particular pilot. Though you couldn’t deny that the one before you, with his dark hair and blue eyes, was as annoyingly handsome as the rest.
“I’m sorry?”
“Your escape; it was narrow. Like a F-18 slipping through a hundred-foot gap between two mountains,” he said, using one of his hands to mimic a plane turning on its side and weaving through imaginary terrain. “Nothing short of impressive.”
“Thanks,” you let out an awkward chuckle. “I think.”
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he said as his eyes drank in the shape of your body. “Eurus.”
Your eyebrows rose. “That’s your call sign?”
“That’s right,” he smirked and winked, but something about it felt slimy,” Greek God of the Eastern Winds and bringer of storms.”
Had the guy dropped his drink in favor of flexing like Hercules, it wouldn’t have surprised you. He certainly had the build to do the hero justice, and the ego to make you nauseous. “Wow. That’s—intense.”
“I’m an intense guy, baby. But I have a feeling you’ll like it.”
Your jaw almost dropped. Why these men felt the need to set their sights on you was beyond you. “Excuse m—”
“Alright, Icarus, that’s enough,” Jake said from behind you. His voice both overworked your heart and provided you a certain level of comfort, like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders in a snowstorm. You turned but he kept his eyes on the younger pilot, clearly amused by the irritation on his face. “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“It’s Eurus,” he spat.
“I really don’t care,” Jake chuckled and crossed his arms. “Just move along.”
When the new pilot cursed and left, you copied Jake’s stance, crossed arms and all, and tilted your head to examine him. He was quite proud of himself, you could see. An exercise in stretching his masculine need to protect you for whatever reason. Or if not for that, then solely to put a claim on you.
“Sorry, I was a little late on the rescue, sweetheart,” he said with that damn grin; the grin that, coming from him and him alone, could probably get you to fall on your knees. “It’s hard to get from one side of the bar to the other tonight.”
Scoffing, you sputter out, “The rescue?”
“No need to thank me; your presence is reward enough,” he said, moving closer to you, irises flashing with an intensity that made your lips subconsciously part; enough space between them that his tongue could easily slip inside. “—And I know you’d rather talk to me than him.”
You blinked and regained some shred of your composure. “Don’t be too sure. He said nearly the same thing to me that you did when we first met, just in his own special words.”
“Well I’m at least better looking than he is.”
With a hum, you said, “See, I’m not so sure about that either. Being insanely attractive seems to be a requirement for those in your profession.”
The corners of his lips quirked up, right before he wrapped his fingers around one of your wrists and led you out the back door onto the quieter part of the porch. The waves crashed against the shore; the soft sound more commanding than the chorus of voices back inside. He pulled your body close to his, his thumb rubbing back and forth along the underside of your wrist.
“Hangma—”
“I saw the way you looked at me yesterday. Just admit you want me so we can finally do something about it.”
“As if you didn’t look at me as well.”
“I have no problem admitting to that. You know I want you,” he said, raising a hand to cup your cheek which you gently swatted away.
“You want something from me,” you corrected with a soft laugh, “That’s different.”
“It is different,” he nodded. “It’s also not what I said.”
“I told you I know men like you, and men like you are—”
“Y/N!”
You hopped away from Jake, three solid feet finding their way between your body and his at the sound of Rooster’s tipsy voice. “Brad?”
“Hey,” he called as he peeked his head through the doorway. “I’ve been looking for you. We need you to settle a debate.” He eyed Hangman briefly with pinched brows of a skeptic before looking back at you. “Come on; before we get so drunk we forget what we’re talking about.”
“Be right there.” Rooster returned to the mass of pilots, and you turned back to Hangman. “Rescued twice in one night,” you said, “I’m such a lucky girl,” then you headed back into the bar to find your friends and leave Jake Seresin to himself.
It was weeks. Weeks of him wanting you. Weeks of him flirting, only for you to come back with some witty quip that equally entertained him and put him in his place. Weeks of visiting the bar or waiting for you to visit base, hoping just to steal a glance or two, and hoping you might try to do the same. Thankfully, you never let him down. You wanted him too; he knew it. He just had to figure out a way to get you to give in.
“Y/N, you want in,” Rooster asked from your right, but you barely heard him. Your mind was focused elsewhere, and your gaze unable to be swayed. Instead, it remained tacked to the one man who had been putting in an exorbitant amount of work to frustrate you over the last few weeks.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin rested back in the barstool, his legs spread just enough that if you walked to him you could fit perfectly between them. It would be so easy for him to wrap his arms around you…pull you closer…kiss you. But you remained a good twenty feet away, and all he did was watch you. Even when another pilot spoke to him, his eyes remained on your face as he responded.
“Y/N,” Rooster said a little louder and lightly tapped your arm with the cue. You turned to him and he rose an eyebrow at your cluelessness. “Pool? You in?”
“Oh, uh—right,” you winced. “That’s probably not a good idea. I’m sure I’ve lost any skill I had from when we were teenagers, Brad.”
Rooster laughed and shook his head. “You are the one who taught me,” he said, “And I win half the games we play here.”
“Who wins the other half?”
“That would be me,” the irritating, blond pilot interjected as he stood from his stool and approached the table. Fanboy held his cue out, immediately surrendering it to Hangman. “And ‘half’ is generous. It’s more like 60/40,” he said with that cocky smirk. “Rooster here is alright, but I’m better.”
Your friend crossed his arms then nudged your shoulder with his. “You could still beat him, Y/N.”
“How about it, sweetheart,” Jake asked, grabbing the other cue and offering it to you. Playing games with Jake Seresin seemed to be the only thing you knew what to do with each other. But there was something in you, when challenged by him, that struggled to back down.
You stood a little taller and reached out to take the cue, but he pulled it back just before you could wrap your fingers around it.
“Want to make it more exciting?”
You weren’t sure you could take anything more exciting when it came to him. Just being around him for an hour was enough to fulfill a week’s worth of any excitement you might crave. Rolling your eyes, you exhaled heavily. “How?”
He grinned. “If you win, you can request anything of me, and I will do it.”
Your eyebrows rose and your friends around you snickered when you said, “Even if I want you to strip and run around on the beach at 5 a.m.?” Your finger pointed towards the door that led to the short stairs into the sand. His eyes followed that line, and then he looked back at you.
“Even then.”
Chuckles echoed in the room, Payback slapping Jake on the back in hysterics over the mental image you provided.
“But if I win,” he continued, and you could see by the sparkle in the green of his irises that whatever he had planned was likely to piss you off. “—you let me kiss you.”
The laughter around you died. Mouths snapped shut and eyes widened as your group of pilots looked back and forth between you and Jake, and then at each other in complete shock. The air was tense and thick enough to be cut by a knife; a knife in the form of Rooster’s inflamed tone.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“Keep out of it, Rooster,” Jake said, still watching you, “This has nothing to do with you.”
“The hell it doesn’t!” Rooster stood, but the back of your hand landed in the center of his chest to stop him from taking a single step in Jake’s direction.
“It’s fine. Brad. Just because he has an overinflated ego doesn’t mean he will win.”
Jake tilted his head. “You’ll have to play to find out, won’t you.”
The group had watched the game with bated breath as you and Jake each took your shots, and it wasn’t until you sunk the eight ball that they all exhaled heavily enough to draw your attention to each one.
“Thank God.” Rooster let out a relieved sigh, put his hand over his heart, and said “I’ve avoided the heart attack.” He gave you a crushing hug, but then left the bar with the other pilots; all leaving in groups of two. Rooster and Coyote first, then Bob and Phoenix before Payback and Fanboy, until only you and Jake remained.
He gathered up all the balls and put them back in the center of the table, avoiding the way your eyes followed the movements of his muscled arms.
“You let me win,” you said.
He quietly snorted as he grabbed the cues and placed them back on the wall. “You think I wanted to lose,” he asked, “when all I’ve thought about from the moment we met is kissing you? Well—among other things.”
“Yes.”
“Alright.” He turned and crossed his arms as he leaned back against the wall. He gestured a hand your way. “Explain.”
“You were never going to force me, Jake,” you said, starting to walk over to him. “Because, at the end of the day, what would that prove—“ you stalled when a couple feet was all that kept your body from his— “You want me to want you by deciding that all on my own. If we kissed only because you won, then did you really win?”
Seconds of silence passed. He briefly broke eye contact as he rubbed at his chin. “Yea, well, that wasn’t the initial plan. But it may have occurred to me towards the end there.”
Your lips quirked at his honesty. Never would you have imagined Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin admitting to a miscalculated plan. That was akin to admitting defeat for him, and defeat was not something he swallowed any better than a spoiled child. “Do I get to make my request now?”
“You won, didn’t you,” he said. “Do I need to mentally prepare myself for arrest after I strip on a public beach?”
“No.”
“What should I prepare for then? Some creative rejection? Maybe a little maiming?”
“Jake—”
“Death?”
You shook your head. “I want you to kiss me.”
Any glint to his eyes or humor in his tone eased as the corners of his lips slowly settled back to their natural placement. “Y/N—"
“I’m serious.”
He waited a moment, eyes prodding yours for any hesitation, but when he found none, he was on you before you could take another breath, one hand wrapping around your waist, the other tangling in your hair so he could hold you to him. His warm mouth covered yours, taking your bottom lip between his two and lightly sucking. Your lips parted and he slipped his tongue inside to meet yours, and when you moaned into the kiss, the arm around your waist tightened.
When you pulled away for air, he nudged his nose against yours and bowed until your foreheads could gently meet. “Come back to base with me,” he said and gave you another peck.
You hummed sweetly at the idea but whispered, “No.”
“Why not?”
Your eyes were closed but you could sense the smile on his face. Then, reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lifted your chin until your lips could connect again, and said, “Because I live closer.”
He couldn’t let you go. He wouldn’t stop touching you. His hands clutched so tightly to your t-shirt he was sure the fabric would be stretched when it came time to examine it in the morning. But he didn’t care. He just wanted it off, that barrier gone between you, so he took it by the hem and pulled it over your shoulders.
Looking at you in your lacy garment, an involuntary groan escaped his throat; and when he yanked the cups of your bra down until your breasts spilled free, completely exposing you before him, he could have whimpered. Pupils swelled, overtaking the green, at the sight of your nipples already hardened and the gooseflesh that began to spread over them from the chill.
“God,” he whispered, still trying to hold back that whimper at the feeling of your tightened, pink buds under the pads of his thumbs. “I better not be dreaming.”
You inched up on your toes, licked your lips, and said, “You’re not,” before softly placing them on his.
His head instantly fuzzed, senses overwhelmed, all thoughts shoved out of his brain but those of you. You. His lips parted so he could draw your bottom one between them to suck and nibble. The touch of your tongues made his knees betray him. The feel of your fingers grazing the lines of his jaw sent shivers down his spine. And he needed to control this before he collapsed on the floor.
He tucked his fingers under the bands of your leggings and underwear and pulled down, then painfully slowly trailed those fingers over the plumpness of your thighs until he reached between your legs and buried them within the warmth of your slick folds.
“Fuck,” he moaned, eyes squeezing shut as his forehead dipped down to meet yours. He barely registered your palms moving down his chest, undoing the button and zipper of his pants, and shoving your hand inside to wrap around his cock.
Reluctantly, he removed his hand from your heat to brace on your hips so he didn’t drop to his knees. It was nothing like he imagined as you pumped him. He didn’t think this would kill him, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. He gripped handfuls of your ass and yanked you close until you were chest to chest, and he suddenly, desperately, he needed your breasts against his skin. Then, as if you had linked minds, you switched to unbuttoning his shirt. Button by button swelled anticipation until you shoved the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms leaving him free to wrap them around your waist again and reconnect your lips.
He kicked his pants off and walked you backwards until your legs hit the arm of your couch, then spun you and eased you over so your stomach rested against the leather with your ass on display for him. He locked the next breath in his lungs until it burned before releasing it shakily. Everything he had dreamed about for weeks was right there before him, willing to be taken, wanting and wet for what he had to give.
Another groan escaped when he rubbed the tip of his cock through your folds before shoving himself entirely inside you.
“Jake,” you softly cried, and his pinched eyebrows softened.
His hands clung to your hips, holding you still to keep himself fully sheathed in your warmth as he let himself adjust to the feel of your walls squeezing him. He bent over and placed sweet, simple kisses down your spine before returning to full height.
“Y/N, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” he whispered, and he wasn’t sure you heard him, but then you straightened up, your back to his chest, and turned your head to kiss him.
“It won’t be,” you whispered back, and gave him another peck. Then you leaned down again so he could drag his cock out before slamming back into you.
Your cries of pleasure were a drug. Ecstasy. Heaven. A golden coating to his veins that carried pure bliss throughout his body. He prayed you were his now; that you wanted him to claim you as his. Because he was yours. He had been yours from the moment he saw you walk into that bar.
The kiss on your forehead was what stirred you, and the mumble you made in response melded with the chuckle of a deeper voice.
“Morning,” he said, pressing more kisses to your skin; your cheek, your exposed shoulder, and then your lips. A warm touch brushed stray hairs out of your face. “Coffee?”
You lazily gestured in the general direction of the kitchen before your arm flopped back to your side. “Far left cabinet, above the maker.”
He kissed you again, then tossed the covers off his body and slipped his boxers on. “Be right back,” he said, his heavy footsteps making their way to the door that he softly opened and closed. But the kind care he put into trying not to disturb you further was immediately overpowered by a jarring “What the fuck!”
You shot up, grogginess sprouting concern, and you rushed to wrap the bedsheet around your body and hurry into the kitchen. The sight before you stopped you in your tracks and seized all blood flow. “Shit.”
Rooster sat in one of the stools at your kitchen island, newspaper spread out on the marble countertop and your ‘my best friend is a pilot’ mug in his hand, filed to the brim with the black liquid. His jaw was slack, but brows could not possibly have been more turned down in the center. The glare he gave Hangman would have been enough to shatter you, but Jake stood still, a strong wall of a man who had no issue maintaining eye contact with your best friend.
“What the actual fuck is this,” Rooster growled, finally directing his stare at you, forcing the sudden urge to clutch the sheet and wrap it tighter around your body.
“Rooster—,” Jake began, but was instantly interrupted by your friend jumping out of his chair.
“You shut your fucking mouth!” Rooster pointed a finger at Jake as he stomped towards him, but you snuck your body between them before Rooster could get too close, placing the hand not holding up the sheet on his chest to try and stop him.
“Bradley,” you pleaded. “Breathe.”
And breathe he did, just not the way you wanted. His chest expanded greatly with every heavy, heated inhale. His eyes flared from the streaming sunlight through your window reflecting off of them. A raging bull was a before you, waiting to be taunted further. “Bastard.”
“Stop it,” you snapped, shoving him until he fell back a step. “What are you even doing here?”
“That’s what you think is most important right now!”
“This is my house!”
The dip of his eyebrows eased when he recognized the anger in your eyes. He never liked to make you mad; it rarely did him any good when you had no problem putting him in his place. “You have the good coffee,” he said. “And I wanted to talk to you, so I used the spare key and thought I would wait until you got up.”
Jake crossed his arms from behind you, and it was only that simple movement that had Brad’s death glare back on him. It shocked you that Hangman managed to keep his mouth shut. The cocky arrogance you knew he possessed could have reared its ugly head in a half-second in response to Brad’s outburst, but he was holding himself back.
“Did you get drunk after we left,” Rooster asked you. “Did he take advantage of y—”
“Jesus, no!” you shouted, slapping at the side of his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Am I not old enough, mature enough, to decide to be with him on my own?”
He scoffed. “Be with him? That sounds like whatever this—” he motioned between you and Jake “—is, will be more than a one-time thing?”
“That’s because it isn’t a one-time thing, jackass,” Jake said, and you shot him a look of warning.
Rooster’s eyes narrowed. “That better be a lie.”
“Bradley—”
“That better be a goddamn lie, Y/N!”
You recoiled at his shout, but regaining your backbone, said, “It’s not a lie!”
Seconds passed, achingly quiet, then Rooster shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I do not approve of this,” he spit out through gritted teeth.
“Brad—”
“And neither will Uncle Mav.”
His words stunned you into silence and wasn’t until the front door to your house slammed closed that you snapped out of it. Muscled arms wrapped around your body from behind as a kiss fell onto the crook where your neck met your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered against your skin.
“Don’t be,” you sighed, and twisted in his arms until you could lay your head against his bare chest. “He’s out of line. We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not going to dump me because of this?”
You looked up at him and ran a finger softly along the line of his jaw, and when that fingertip reached the middle of his chin, you gently pulled his face forward and kissed him.
“No,” you said. “So don’t worry.”
Tag: @marvel-ousnesss
#jake seresin x reader#jack hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin x y/n#hangman x y/n#hangman top gun#jake seresin top gun#top gun maverick#jake seresin fic#jake seresin maverick#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin#top gun hangman#hangman x reader
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"can't two men just be friends?" i mean they can but these ones sure ain't!
#sereshaw#hangster#icemav#top gun maverick#top gun 1986#pete maverick mitchell#tom iceman kazansky#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin
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nothing but a gentleman.
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x F!Reader
summary: jake is obsessed with you. you eat it up. you’re obsessed with his obsession. but also with him.
t/w: soft!jake, some cursing
"Get out of here, Bagman. You're giving me a headache."
The blonde aviator grabs at his chest. "God, I love it when you're mean to me." Those green eyes sparkle with mischief under the lights of the Hard Deck.
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin has been pining after you for months.
& you have been loving every second of it. Miramar's resident playboy has only had eyes for you. You haven't seen him spare a glance at any of the other ladies in the bar.
Believe me, they've been looking at him.
"Y/n, how long are you going to keep my boy at arm's length?" Coyote asks from the other side of the pool table. Jake saddles up next to him and feeds you the saddest pout he can muster.
"Yeah, y/n, how long?" Jake asks.
Your intention wasn't to drag this hard-to-get play out for so long. Truthfully, it's becoming hard not to give in to those strong arms. To not lean in when he invades your personal space, feeding you a smart ass comment.
Your shoulder comes up to your ear and falls back down. "Hard to say, Bagman."
"Let's play for it," he tells you. Jake saunters over to you, and leans against the pool table. Crossing his arms over his fit chest, he situates his mouth just outside your ear. "If I win, you've gotta give me a kiss, darlin'."
The way his hot breath falls across your ear causes goosebumps to appear down your arms. Jake notices, and a blonde brow raises.
"What are you? Twelve?" you antagonize.
"Oh, honey. I'm willing to try anything at this point."
"Rack 'em. Honey." You lightly shove him back, your hands reacting to the small second they were on his chest.
"If I win, you give it up," you send the man a sad look.
"Give what up?" he asks.
"All this pining'." Your hand gestures wildly around in the air.
For a moment, despair crosses over that handsome face. He recovers quickly. "Oh, I'm not worried."
Jake lets you break. Two stripes fall into the pocket. Jake comes up behind you before your next shot. His hand slides across your waist and he pulls you into his side.
Right as you pull back, Jake leans down. "Don't scratch."
The cueball follows your striped ball into the pocket.
"Damn," he murmurs. It takes a full 45 seconds to get your heart rate under control.
The jig is up once Jake get in control of the pool table. Not only is he the dagger squad's best dart player, he's got the best pool table on lock, too. There is no way he's going to take it easy on you.
Naturally, he doesn't.
"One more and Hangman gets a kiss," he smirks. He doesn't take his eyes off your as he pulls back and send the cue ball sailing.
The eight ball falls into it's intended pocket effortlessly. Followed right by the cue ball.
Shock falls across all your faces. Jake has never lost a game of pool. Ever.
Jake sets the cue stick down, and rounds the table. Standing toe-to-toe with you, he feeds you a delicious smirk.
"Darlin', I ain't gonna make you kiss me if you don't want to. Furthermore, I only want your kiss if its of your own volition." He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear.
Your eyes lock with his and the world stops. What a fucking gentleman.
Fisting the front of his shirt, you yank him down to your mouth. Jake relaxes into the kiss immediately and allows his hands to slide around your waist.
Jake takes control, changing the direction and deepening the kiss. Your hands move from his shirt to the nap of his neck, fingers knotting in his hair. His hair that’s gotten just a bit long.
Jake pulls back just a hair, his lips a breath away from yours. “Damn,” he mumbles, again.
“My own volition, huh?”
“I’m nothing if not a gentleman,” he winks. “A gentleman who is dying to kiss you again.”
You guide his lips back to yours.
“Kiss me, Hangman.”
master list.
a/n: been a little while since i wrote for ole jakey. i hope y'all like it!
#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun maverick fic#hangman fic#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin
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when the cowboys are gay fighter pilots…. or when the fighter pilots are gay cowboys…? they are gay and fighter pilots and also cowboys
#sereshaw#top gun fanart#rooster x hangman#jake hangman seresin#bradley rooster bradshaw#tgm#top gun maverick#dia art!#top gun art#art#fanart#referenced art#digital art#artists on tumblr#top gun#gay cowboys#cowboys#!!!!#i love cowboys#yeehaw#hangster#procreate#top gun 1986
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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans.
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself.
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you.
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
--------------------------
It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it.
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt.
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable.
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night.
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake.
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there.
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there.
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours.
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
-----------------------------
"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there.
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything.
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious.
"I like that one," he told you softly.
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you.
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
----------------------
"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him.
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely.
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside.
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole.
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake.
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh.
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it.
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you.
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
------------------------
Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead.
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony."
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy."
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land.
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
------------------------------
Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day.
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly.
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over.
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms.
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest.
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs.
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up.
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again.
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again.
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips.
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing.
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy.
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips.
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear.
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate.
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips.
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan.
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed.
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first.
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number."
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
---------------------------
Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
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#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman x reader#jake hangman x reader#hangman x you#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine#jake seresin fic#hangman fic#jake seresin#jake hangman fic#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#roosterforme#sneak peek
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All This Love
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: “Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Warnings: not much in this one, unplanned pregnancy, some light smut, 18+ only!! <3
Jake feels his pulse jump once, then twice as he walks through his front door. He’d already known you were here, not just because of your car parked out front, but because you’d barely left his company since he’d gotten the news. Still, the sound of you moving around his kitchen, and the smell of something heavenly wafting toward him makes his heart leap just a little in a way that is honestly unfamiliar to him.
Jake Hangman Seresin is not a ‘relationship’ guy. He hasn’t exactly been a one-night-stand guy either these past few years, but certainly he isn’t known for his commitment. Partly he could blame this on his schedule, his various and frequent deployments, moves and busyness, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that taking an endless string of women home was taking a toll on him.
Quietly, Jake hoped he’d meet someone, have a constant in his life to come home to, maybe have a few little mini-Jake’s running around too, but it also wasn’t really something he was actively seeking out. He knew being with him meant a lot of lonely nights, and he’d internalised the attitude that most women were not up for that.
And then he met you.
You’d laughed sweetly like you’d thought he was just kidding when he’d flirted with you, told him outright you’d expecting him to cancel on your first date, and then rambled about anything and everything for the next three hours as he happily listened.
You weren’t really his normal ‘type’, you weren’t overly affectionate with him off the bat, making your intentions known, you weren’t tall or bleached blonde or anything he was used to from the women who showed an interest in him, though that wasn’t to say he didn’t think you weren’t beautiful. You were a little awkward, and dorky and you’d told him you thought he was funny, which wasn’t really one of the things most of the women he dated tended to point out. Needless to say, Jake had quickly found it very easy, very natural to adore you.
He’d gotten three and a half months with you before his orders came in.
The two of you had grown close in that time, but you hadn’t really addressed or discussed what you were. He hadn’t really felt the need, or the pressure like he had in the past. He’d realised over the past few days that this might’ve been down to the fact that he hadn’t even really considered any other options besides the two of you eventually becoming ‘exclusive’. If Jake is completely honest, he’s been off the market since our first date.
Not until the imminent date of his deployment had he begun to take note of his rising anxiety, the complete opposite to the way he usually felt after informing a casual fling that he’d be going. With them, he didn’t expect more, he didn’t want to give them more either, but with you… Jake hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how much he’ll be able to contact you while he’s gone, if you’ll make time for him, even if you’ll send him those care packages so many of the guys he knows often received while on the carrier…
The idea that you saw his upcoming deployment as the official end of whatever this is you have going on haunted him, and Jake was determined to make clear that when he returned in fourteen months time, he still wanted to see you.
He toes off his boots as best he can with the large bouquet in the crook of his elbow, before padding down the hall toward where the delicious smell is coming from, finding you buzzing around his kitchen in a manner that forces him to stop dead in his tracks to appreciate the sight.
This is what Jake has been wanting, but it's not until this very moment he realises just how much. It isn’t even about you cooking for him, no, he just craves the domesticity of coming home to somebody who looks up from what they’re doing with an expression like his arrival is the new best part of their day.
“Jake! I didn’t hear you come in!” you say with a smile and a laugh. That wasn’t exactly unusual for you. You didn’t often hear many things, considering you were hard of hearing. You weren’t completely deaf, in quiet rooms when he was facing you, you could hear him enough, helped by lip reading, or if he spoke directly into your ear. However, it was still significant enough that Jake had downloaded an ASL learning app, partly to communicate better with you, but also so that he could see your overjoyed surprise whenever he correctly signed something very simple to you.
“These are for you,” he steps closer, holding out the large bouquet of marigolds and roses he’d stopped for on the way home, making sure his mouth isn’t at all obscured by them as he does. He hadn’t skimped when he’d bought them, requesting the biggest package the florist offered and paying double what he’d ever paid before for flowers. It was worth it though, especially when once you’ve processed what he’s said, your face lights up all over again and you let out a soft little gasp as you move to meet him.
“They’re beautiful!” you croon as you bring the flowers to your nose. Jake had only ever bought flowers for his mother, and for a few girls around Valentine’s Day. They were always roses. He’d never bothered to ask what their preferred flower of choice was. With you, though, you had inadvertently told him on your first date while lost in a story about a failed garden you’d tried growing and how you adored copper marigolds and peach roses, but that no man had ever bought either for you, including your last boyfriend who’d seemed to think flowers were lame and unnecessary. He’d filed that information away, but curses himself for not using it any sooner as you smile widely back up at him, and push the flowers aside so that you can wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him sweetly.
“Thank you! You didn’t have to!” you say in between pecks to his lips, and Jake wraps the arm still holding the bouquet around your back, in the hopes that maybe you’ll stay pushed up against him just a little longer. You do, giggling softly as you continue to deliver soft little kisses to his lips, Jake dutifully returning each one, becoming aware of his own laughter joining your own as he does.
You pull away to grin up at him, and Jake drops one last, final kiss to your lips before giving you a slight squeeze, his own smile growing as you stare up at him.
“Baby, the smoke alarm is going off,” he informs you, chortling when you jump away from him in surprise, and quickly return to the stove to remove the pan from the hob. Jake follows you, placing your flowers down on the counter, and moving over to where the alarm sits high on his wall, reaching up to tap the button in the centre that switches it off.
“Sorry! The good news though is that dinner isn’t ruined!” you tell him happily, turning back around to go digging through one of his other cupboards. You straighten again when you find a large pitcher, and he watches you mill about for a moment, filling it with water before moving to place the bouquet of flowers inside. He feels his chest swell with pride as you primp and preen the roses and marigolds, and pictures you two weeks from now, with more and more petals falling from the flowers with every passing day, but refusing to throw them away because they make you think of him. The swelling of pride begins to turn into a swell of dread, and Jake really, really wishes he wasn’t leaving you in the morning.
You turn back to him and smile.
“Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll finish this?” you suggest, and Jake immediately pouts.
“Why don’t I just stay here and help you plate up?” he says instead, making you frown playfully and shake your head.
“Jake, you need to shower!” you scold lightly.
“I showered on base,” he shrugs, and pushes away from his counter to capture your waist and draw you near again.
“Jake… just let me do this for you… you leave tomorrow…” it’s your turn to pout. Jake’s heart makes a good effort to leap out of his chest and into yours.
“Exactly. I leave tomorrow, so just let me stay with you as long as I can,” he poses, and you soften, resting your hands on his forearms.
“Jake…” you sigh, and bite your lip a little. “What’re you gonna do for the next fourteen months, huh?” you question playfully, shaking your head.
“Wish I was plating up dinner with you.” he answers immediately, then feels his cheeks heat up a little. Your gaze drops from his face, but you’re smiling softly, and rubbing your thumbs over his skin in a soothing manner.
“Okay,” you relent, before reaching up to cup his cheeks tenderly. “Okay.”
Jake leans into your touch, closing his eyes as he memorises the feeling of you holding him. You remain in pleasant quiet as the two of you go about preparing for dinner, Jake setting the table as you portion out the salad you’ve made.
Jake refrains from insisting you sit side by side as you eat, because he knows you’d struggle to hear him if you did, but after dinner, he does insist that the dishes can wait, convincing you to come up and shower with him instead.
You’ve barely stepped inside the glass cubicle when he’s pulling you closer, lips reaching out for yours and you giggle as you kiss him under the full stream of the shower head, laughing properly when he pulls back to spit a mouthful of water sideways out his mouth like a cartoon character. He grins at having made you laugh, but crowds you up against the wall almost instantly after, his smile pressed back against yours.
“M’gonna miss you.” he says right by your ear, before slipping his mouth down to your neck, and immediately sucking a small mark there. He knows your opinion on hickeys, so he’ll make sure the rest are somewhere you can hide them. You seem to squirm in his hold, your hands dropping from around his neck to press against his chest, his abdomen, though he knows you aren’t pushing him away, simply wishing to see his face.
“I’ll miss you, too.” you say after a moment, watching the water drop from his eyelashes, before you wrap your arms around him, pulling him near once again and pressing your chest up against his in a delightful manner.
“Promise you’ll come see me when I get shore leave?” He’s never asked this question before, and his heart immediately jumps into his throat. Usually he’d wait around for shore leave to go bar hopping, pick up a girl or two and show them a good time while he could. This time however, all Jake can think about is how best he can maximise all his spare moments for the next fourteen months to make sure they’re spent with you.
“I promise,” you say with another giggle, and it makes Jake pull back to look down at you. He’s not sure what he wants to say, if anything at all, but a beat passes where the two of you simply watch one another. Carefully your hand rises, skims along his cheek, but ultimately continues upwards where you smooth back some of the hair hanging down over his forehead.
“By my count we’ve got just under twelve hours,” you say then, and he can tell you’re trying not to sound so sad. It makes his stomach flop about.
“No time to waste, then, huh?” He leans in and murmurs against your lips.
Miraculously, you make it back to his bedroom somehow, shower water replaced with sweat now as you both work to make the most of the short time you have left together.
You let out a heavy breath of air as you adjust yourself once more, hands pressing against his taut abs, feeling the way the muscles move and tighten under your palms and fingers as you bounce in his lap. Your thighs are burning, but that's not going to be enough to stop you from chasing down another high. Jake’s hands at your hips take some of the initiative out of your control though, his grip firm and deliberate as he helps you move for him, forcing you up and damn-near slamming you back down again, his hips flexing in time to make sure he’s fucking you as deep as he can.
Your sounds of pleasure are muted against his lips, swallowed by him as he kisses you hungrily, one hand shooting up to clutch at the back of your neck when you briefly break apart. With one hand helping you move now, he begins tilting his hips more and more, his legs bent at the knee behind you, powering his thrusts and completely taking you apart. He lets you break away from his mouth, but doesn’t move the hand on your neck, and through half-shut eyes, you can see him watching you intently, his jaw clenched as he takes you in. He slows down.
“You look so pretty riding me,” Jake’s voice is deeper and more gravelly than normal, and his words are punctuated by tiny grunts of exertion that make you mewl. “Gonna miss the way you feel around me,” he goes on, using his hold on you to grind up into you with each slow thrust. You gasp when his hand on your thigh pulls a little, widening your legs around him and making you take him even more.
“Fuck! Jake…!” you cry out weakly, doing your best to keep your momentum, but with this new positioning, you barely have enough strength to lift yourself from him. Jake doesn't seem to mind, groaning in approval and suddenly sitting up, twisting your still connected hips to spin you beneath him now, his hand hiking your leg up over his shoulder as you go.
You gasp again, your own hands clutching his shoulders as he begins fucking you impossibly deep, picking up his pace again as he hovers above you, one hand now in the mattress beside your head.
“Take me so well, sweetheart,” he grunts out, closing the distance between you to press his lips back to yours. You chase him when he pulls away again, whining in disapproval, but his lips dont go too far, as he falls to his forearms and really begins to fuck you.
“Gotta give it to you so good you’ll be stuck on me, huh? Won’t think about anyone but me while I’m gone?” he goes on, and all you can do is nod.
“You gonna cum?” he asks a little more coherently, and you nod, because the way he’s driving into you nearly has you toppling over already. “Yeah? Go on, let me feel you, want you to cum around me, honey.”
His words alone are enough to push you off the edge, more so when you feel him join you, and you arch up into him, curl your hips against his own ragged thrusts, desperate to keep him from pulling out halfway through. He doesn’t seem to be planning to this time, and you mewl and moan in delight at the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him dripping out of you when he gives you a few last firm thrusts.
Jake pants above you, the hand by your head slipping down to caress your cheek as you both take a moment to come down. He kisses you, long and deep and nearly enough to get you going again. You wait patiently when he pads off to his bathroom to find you a cloth, and you barely notice yourself dozing off until you wake sometime later.
The bed is empty, though the bedside lamp has remained on, and you sit up properly, rubbing your eyes.
“Jake?” you call out, but you don't see him in the bedroom or bathroom. Frowning, you scoot out of his bed and grab one of his old squad shirts, slipping it on as you move out of his bedroom in search of him.
“Jake?” you call out again, trailing your hand along the wall as you step softly down the stairs to the first floor. It doesn’t help that you can’t hear him, but your worries are belayed the moment you turn around the corner and into the kitchen, and you’re greeted with his bare back as he stands at the sink. He’d pulled some sweatpants on, but they’re hanging low on his hips, enough for you to see the little dimples at the base of his back, and you itch you wrap your arms around him again.
You try to be as quiet as you can as you move up behind him, relishing in the small jump of surprise he does when you trail your hands over his skin and around his front, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. You feel him chuckle, feel the deep reverberations through his chest as he does, before he’s pulling you by one arm around to his front instead, where your face now rests against his chest instead.
“I thought you’d fallen asleep.” he tells you, leaning down to absently press a kiss to your hair. You shrug, but peek over your shoulder to watch as he continues to wash dishes, moving with him when he has to move, loving the way he briefly wraps you up whenever he does so, as if he’s worried his twisting might scare you off.
“What are you doing?” you ask dumbly, even as he scrubs down the pan you’d used to cook dinner.
“I didn’t want you to have to wake up tomorrow and do the dishes.” He tells you quietly, like he was worried about admitting this to you, like it was something he should feel guilty about. You coo, and squeeze him a little tighter, just as another thought occurs to you. You’d meant to talk to him about it when he got home from work, but with all the messing around that had happened, you’d totally forgotten.
“Do you want me to drive you in tomorrow?” you ask, feeling the way he pauses. You look up at him after he stays quiet for another beat, and find him staring down at you oddly. Your eyes meeting seems to break him out of his reverie though, and he blinks rapidly a few times.
“You don’t mind? It’s an early start…” he tells you, trying to warn you off, but you see right through him. You can tell it means something to him, though you don’t know what, and a part of you wonders if he’d ever had a girlfriend drive him to base for a deployment before.
“I’m not going to see you for fourteen months, Jake, of course I don’t mind.” you say as if it's obvious. You watch him purse his lips, but smile softly.
“I’d like that.” he says at last, moving one arm to wrap around you permanently now, continuing his task one handed until you extract yourself from him to grab a drying cloth. He makes a sound you only feel briefly, but you shoot him an amused shake of your head and remind him that the faster the chore is done, the faster the two of you can go back to bed. He stops his complaining then, and when the sink is empty and the dishes all stacked away, he picks you up and carries you all the way upstairs again with your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping them there until you both fall asleep again.
Jake can’t stop looking back over his shoulder at you as he stands with the rest of Dagger, getting ready to board. You’re right by the front of the crowd of family that has gathered to say goodbye, which doesn’t make it any easier. If you’d disappeared amongst the people, he could fool himself into thinking you weren’t there, but as it is, he can see you clearly, and it’s eating him up.
Even Rooster can tell, watching and following his gaze every time Jake longingly glances back at you, his brown eyes trailing to the beautiful girl in the front of the crowd, occasionally conversing with the people around her, but mostly just eying the group of aviators with a sad little smile.
“You should say goodbye.” Rooster tells him quietly, eyeing up the officers ahead of them and correctly guessing that they would be about to board. Jake swallows, and pushes his sunglasses up his nose.
“We’ve already said goodbye.” He doesn’t mean to sound so snappy or cold, but he really didn’t want to think about leaving you anymore than necessary. Beside him, Rooster shuffles and shrugs.
“Say goodbye again.”
Jake stays quiet for a moment, before he turns to look at his wingman, and then at the line ahead. Quickly shifting his bag and stuffing it into the other man’s hands, Rooster only nods at him before Jake’s body is moving, easily pushing past the junior officers who step out of his way quickly. He barely takes note of the saultes he receives, because his eyes are set only on you, the way you watch him with a frown, but even as he gets right up to you, and you open your mouth to speak, he keeps moving, cupping your jaw and pressing a series of kisses against your lips.
When he pulls back you frown is gone, replaced with a lightness he hasn't seen since before he’d told you he’d be leaving.
“Will you wait for me?” he asks breathlessly, aware now that the carrier had begun boarding, and he needed to get back.
“What?” you ask with a slight laugh. Jake only leans in to kiss you again, and from somewhere behind him, he can hear a few servicemen whistle. You’re still giggling when he pulls back, but he digs into his uniform pockets and brings out his keys, pressing them into your hands.
“Wait for me.” he says again, waiting until you nod your assent before looking away from you. Through the crowd, he can hear someone, Rooster calling him, an edge of warning in his voice.
“I’ve got to go.” he tells you dumbly, and kisses you again.
“I know. Go! I’ll be here when you get back!” you assure him with a laugh, kissing him back but pushing him away at the same time. Jake grins upon hearing the words, and steps in to kiss you again, before finally dragging his body forcefully away from yours, and back to his team.
Phoenix is giving him a funny look that he ignores as he takes his bag back from Rooster with a silent nod of thanks. He receives a pat on the shoulder from the other man, who looks down his sunglasses at him thoughtfully. Jake sees his eyes trail off and he knows Rooster is looking at you again. He pats Jake’s shoulder once more, his lips tipping up teasingly.
“She’s cute,” Rooster tells him. Jake eyes him as he replaces his sunglasses.
“Yeah,” he says. “She is.”
“Hey babygirl, it’s good to see you,” Jake can’t help his wide grin even as he stares at your somewhat blank, reserved expression. Something in his chest wobbles as you eventually give him a weak smile, and he nervously adjusts his camera.
“Hi, Jake.” You say. It only makes his stomach wobble too.
“Is the software working okay? I have captions?” he asks, double checking the program on his end to make sure for the fourth time that everyone is tip top. You nod.
“Yeah, yeah, everything is working fine. I even put my hearing aids in… I’ve missed your voice,” you tell him.
Your words go a small way to alleviate his anxiety, but it’s been four months since he’s communicated with you via more than just email, and he can’t help but listen to the voices in his head from long before he met you, telling him that you don’t want to wait for him any longer.
“I’m honoured, you hate wearing those,” he says with a stiff laugh. You smile a little wider, but don’t seem to relax.
“Too much noise,” you agree. A quiet beat passes between you and Jake steels himself for what he knows is to come. You both speak at exactly the same time.
“Listen, baby, I’m really sorry I haven’t been able to do this sooner, but–”
“–I’m pregnant.”
Jake freezes, and so do you.
“Oh, thank god,” he hears himself say outloud, his entire body sagging as the weight of what he’d thought you were about to say leaves his body entirely.
“That’s… that’s not what I was expecting…” all stress seems to have left your body too, and for the first time since your call connected, you too appear to be completely at ease. “I thought you were going to break up with me…” you tell him, making Jake start.
“I thought you were going to break up with me!” Jake exclaims, before quickly quientening his voice. “Christ you scared me,” he tells you, letting out a sigh of relief.
Your face is a mixture of amusement and bashfulness.
“You’re more scared of me breaking up with you, than me being pregnant?” you ask, and Jake finds himself nodding immediately.
“I wouldn’t say scared, per se…”
“Your own words, Jake,” you remind him, and he chuckles, but shrugs. You both pause for a moment as you take in the wealth of new information and relationship security you now bask in. Jake jumps then, and leans in closer to his screen.
“How far along are you?” he asks, unsure of what really to ask in this situation, it’s honestly not one he’d ever been in before, but he’s proud to discover his mind immediately has calibrated for it.
“I’m going to the doctor in the morning, but I’m guessing around four months,” you tell him with a slightly wry smile. Jake laughs.
“I should hope so,” Jake chortles, before turning serious again when he sees you only laugh weakly.
“How are you feeling, baby?” he asks, then quickly, for your sake, adds; “For the record, I want whatever you want, I just want it with you.”
Your face travels through several emotions, but you at last give him a watery little smile.
“I really thought you’d break up with me, I haven’t even thought about anything else,” you admit, and Jake feels something else in his chest wobble.
“Honey, unless you’re planning on breaking my heart right now, I’m not breaking up with you any time soon… or ever, if I’m honest… I’m sorry that’s not been clearer…” he tells you, feeling a slight lump in his throat at the very thought.
You were it for him, he thinks, he can’t imagine not coming home to you. He’d even considered throwing his medical on purpose the other day, just so he could wait for your email he knew was likely to come. Jake has never even considered that before, not even for family. A knock on the door makes his face fall, and he turns to glare at the ensign who pokes their head in.
“Liuetenant Seresin, sir, Captain Mitchell requires you on deck.”
Jake sighs, but nods grimly.
“Tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”
“Sir!”
Jake looks back at you, already smiling sadly.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I need to go,” he says tiredly. He’d wished he got more time to talk with you, but especially about this.
“It’s okay Jake, we’ll be fine,” you tell him. Jake can’t stop the quirk of his lips as he stares at you.
“‘We’ huh?” he asks teasingly, feeling something like excitement, or perhaps pure, sheer joy race through his veins. You cock your head but your arm moves, he can’t see where exactly, but he suspects your hand now rests against your belly.
“Yeah. We.”
Jake swallows thickly, and nods, unable to fight the smile that pulls at his lips.
“Okay, baby, okay,” he hears another knocking on his door and huffs. “Send me everything you can, I don’t know when I’ll get to call you again, okay? Send me everything.”
Jake walks quietly alongside Dagger as they return to their ready room, listening to them discussing possible ‘new’ hand signs for each other to signal readiness for the manuevour they’d been working on not even twenty minutes ago, prior to landing. He checks back into the conversation long enough to watch the proposed sign that Payback suggests, and immediately begins shaking his head.
“That’s ‘math’ in sign language,” Jake tells him, earning a look from Phoenix.
“Since when do you know ASL?” she asks, not fully sounding accusatory, but certainly not shying away from that tone either. Jake looks up at her and opens his mouth, but it’s Bob who gets there before him.
“He’s been practising with me,” Bob informs her, making Phoenix only more curious. She turns back to Jake expectantly. Jake shifts on his feet as the group comes to a halt, clearly also wanting to know what this is about, and for a brief moment, he considers telling them to mind their damn business.
That thought passes though, his spite warmed into a quiet kind of glee at the mere thought of you, his chest tingling slightly under the picture he has tucked into his flight suit.
“My girlfriend is deaf,” he says at last with a small shrug. Phoenix stays eying him for a second, even more curiosity filling her gaze, but after a moment she relents. He knows she’ll have questions later, but for now seems to be content not to make him answer them in front of everyone.
“Huh.” she says, and with that the squad continues moving.
Eventually, Phoenix and Halo peel off to the women’s locker rooms, the boys moving on to theirs, Payback, Coyote, Fanboy and Bob making straight for the showers. Jake can’t shower yet, though, he has precious cargo to return to safety, so moves straight for his locker, peeling it and carefully removing the photograph from his breast. Using the wad of blu-tac he’d acquired a few weeks back, he gingerly sticks the image backup in its home when he’s not flying, making sure not to get any fingerprints on it as he does.
“That was a good exercise,” Rooster’s voice makes Jake almost jump out of his skin, and he turns to look over his shoulder, quickly shooting the other man a nod.
“Yeah,” he replies simply, his lips thinning into a line as Rooster steps closer, opening his own locker but inevitably glancing over at Jake’s in the process. Jake tenses up as he feels Bradshaw pause, but after only a few agonising seconds, Rooster is moving again.
“Congratulations?” Rooster half-praises, half-questions, side-eying Jake, who stiffens just slightly, but finds himself relaxing when he looks back up at the grainy ultrasound.
“Thanks,” he says, feeling his stomach flutter at the memory of the first time he saw it.
Jake reaches up and rapps the ultrasound fondly.
“Twenty-three weeks. She’s supposed to be the size of a peach, but hell if I know what I’m looking at,” Jake shrugs and rolls his eyes, even letting loose a small smile when Rooster leans over to get a closer look. After a moment he too pulls a face and they meet eyes.
“Yeah, looks like topography to me,” Rooster shrugs as well. Jake looks back to the scan thoughtfully.
“Oh. Yeah. There’s a mountain range…. Small valley…” Jake trails off as the showers seem to shut off in near-unisen.
He quickly shoots Rooster a steely-eyed stare, which thankfully the other man seems to understand the meaning of, because all too soon their conversation comes to an end and Jake shuts his locker door protectively.
Their veil of secrecy is shattered however, when Javy, dressed in only his towel, waltzes right up to Jake, opens his locker door again, places a kiss to the ultrasound, then carries right on as Jake quickly closes it behind him. Rooster shoots him a look, and before the others can make an appearance, Jake explains himself.
“Only Javy knows,” he grinds out, but can’t find himself too annoyed. Javy had immediately taken to his Uncle role, sending little gift packages to Jake's house for you to discover.
The ‘My Uncle Is Single’ onesie was particularly cute.
Jake doesn’t even really have to push his way to the front of the line at the docks. Not only had Dagger made a path for him, but they were actively hauling at the collars of younger sailors, and from behind him he can hear various calls of ‘make way!’ and when one sailor protests a little too loudly, Phoenix saying ‘Hangman’s about to meet his kid for the first time, do you really want to get in the way of that?’. He makes a note to thank them later, but then he sees you, and he sees his baby, and all thoughts fly out of his brain.
He rushes up to you, gathering you both in one tight hug before you even seem to realise it’s him. But then he hears you laughing waterly, and he pulls his face back enough to plant a long, passionate kiss to your lips.
“Hey baby, hi!” he gushes cupping your cheek in his hand, before quickly extracting himself only a little, and focusing his attention on the bundle of excited squeals in your arms.
“Hi Princess, c’mere, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you!” Jake continues to talk before you can even get a word in edgewise. You laugh again, and shift the baby on your hip enough and Jake steps in again quickly relieving you of the weight. His daughter is immediately enraptured by the pins and shinies on his uniform, and she babbles talkatively up at him. Jake had shared his worries with you that she wouldn’t know him, recognise him, but all that is quickly abated when she stuffs a fist in her mouth and all but collapses against his chest.
His whole body fills with a warmth like he’s never known and he looks over at you.
“I think it’s too loud for her,” you say with a laugh, cuddling in closer to the other side of his chest. Jake looks between the two of you lovingly, adjusting his girl so he can show off some of the ASL he’d managed to learn in the last fourteen months.
Sorry, he signs carefully. Just – little – longer. Team – want – meet – you – both.
Your face lights up in recognition and your eyes get a little mistier. So – good – now! You sign back slowly for him, just as he feels several presences come to an anxious stop behind him.
“Bob helped,” he says, getsuring over at Bob, who steps forward with a short little wave.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Ma’am,” he tells you, before his eyes shift to the baby in Jake’s arms. He tips his hat again at the girl who, as Jake turns, seems to be quietly inspecting the newcomers, drooling all over her tiny little hand. Bob does another little wave, more goofy this time, and she giggles, but turns her face inward briefly to Jake’s chest even more.
Jake uses his free arm to pull you in a little, and nods at his team.
“Baby, this is Dagger, that’s Bob,” he briefly pauses to show you Bob’s sign name, before he goes on to point out the others. “Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and this is–” he gets cut off as Javy pushes his way to the front of the crowd.
“Uncle Javy!” he announces, balling you up in a tight hug. You laugh and nod.
“Thank you for all the gifts for her! She loves them!” you tell him, which only makes him smile wider, and puff his chest out some as he rounds on Jake and his daughter.
“Can I hold her now?” he asks, with his arms already out. Jake’s features drop into a friendly glare.
“No.” he says firmly, tugging the baby closer. He’s rewarded when she begins to fuss a little at all the new attention, and Jake quickly begins shushing and cooing at her, only for her to relax and fall quiet, her tiny fists now clutching desperately into his jacket.
“That’s right baby, daddy’s not gonna let Uncle Javy take you away from him.” He runs his hand comfortingly up and down her little back, snuggling her closer.
Javy rolls his eyes, but relents, pointing at Jake and you.
“Ya’ll got one week, then I’m crashing,” he tells you. Jake shakes his head, but you nod, looking up at him. You sign ‘babysitter?’ at him, then getsure at Dagger in general, and after he puts two and two together, he’s shaking his head.
“No. No way,” he says. You nod again and gesture back to the group.
“No,” he says.
“Yes.” you reply, Bob nodding quickly along with you. Jake rolls his eyes up at the sky, then back down at you. He looks over at where Rooster, Phoenix, Fanboy and Payback have all started cooing and making faces at his girl, making her giggle and kick her feet, and lets out a sigh.
“Fine. Maybe.”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin#hangman x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction
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Hangman almost got in huge f*cking trouble for flying out to save Maverick and Rooster before he was ordered to, but Maverick made a call to Admiral Ron "Slider" Kerner, and all he had to say was "...He's Bradley's Iceman."
...And Slider put an immediate stamp of approval on it and forbid anyone from punishing Lieutenant Seresin for his actions.
#icemav#hangaroo#hangster#sereshaw#maverick & slider#slider & iceman#top gun maverick#ron kerner#slider kerner#maverick mitchell#pete mitchell#jake seresin#hangman seresin#bradley bradshaw#rooster bradshaw
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I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!
You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.
"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."
"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."
"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."
You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.
"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"
"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."
You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.
"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"
"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"
"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.
She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.
"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"
"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."
Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.
You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"
"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."
Your stomach drops.
"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"
"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"
"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.
"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.
"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"
"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"
"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.
"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."
"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.
"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"
"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."
"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"
"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.
"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"
"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."
He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.
"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."
"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"
"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'
"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"
"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"
She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.
"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."
#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x y/n#hangman fanfiction#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x y/n#top gun x reader#top gun maverick x reader
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(The way he is sitting is so slutty and he freaking know's it)
#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#glen powell#peep javy back in the back#I know already posted this before but#im an adult i do what I want
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Wants and Needs: Part 5
Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
Summary: Jake “Hangman” Seresin sets his sights on you, Rooster’s best friend, but it doesn’t take long for you to understand what type of man the cocky, blond pilot is. Unfortunately for Hangman, you have no interest in a womanizer.
Wanrings/Notes: This is very similar to my other fic because that one was basically a wip of what this turned out to be.
Also: Hangman’s ego, fluff, flirting, protective angry Rooster.
All parts in Masterlist
Words: 845
Part 5: Good Morning?
The kiss on your forehead was what stirred you, and the mumble you made in response melded with the chuckle of a deeper voice.
“Morning,” he said, pressing more kisses to your skin; your cheek, your exposed shoulder, and then your lips. A warm touch brushed stray hairs out of your face. “Coffee?”
You lazily gestured in the general direction of the kitchen before your arm flopped back to your side. “Far left cabinet, above the maker.”
He kissed you again, then tossed the covers off his body and slipped his boxers on. “Be right back,” he said, his heavy footsteps making their way to the door that he softly opened and closed. But the kind care he put into trying not to disturb you further was immediately overpowered by a jarring “What the fuck!”
You shot up, grogginess sprouting concern, and you rushed to wrap the bedsheet around your body and hurry into the kitchen. The sight before you stopped you in your tracks and seized all blood flow. “Shit.”
Rooster sat in one of the stools at your kitchen island, newspaper spread out on the marble countertop and your ‘my best friend is a pilot’ mug in his hand, filed to the brim with the black liquid. His jaw was slack, but brows could not possibly have been more turned down in the center. The glare he gave Hangman would have been enough to shatter you, but Jake stood still, a strong wall of a man who had no issue maintaining eye contact with your best friend.
“What the actual fuck is this,” Rooster growled, finally directing his stare at you, forcing the sudden urge to clutch the sheet and wrap it tighter around your body.
“Rooster—,” Jake began, but was instantly interrupted by your friend jumping out of his chair.
“You shut your fucking mouth!” Rooster pointed a finger at Jake as he stomped towards him, but you snuck your body between them before Rooster could get too close, placing the hand not holding up the sheet on his chest to try and stop him.
“Bradley,” you pleaded. “Breathe.”
And breathe he did, just not the way you wanted. His chest expanded greatly with every heavy, heated inhale. His eyes flared from the streaming sunlight through your window reflecting off of them. A raging bull was a before you, waiting to be taunted further. “Bastard.”
“Stop it,” you snapped, shoving him until he fell back a step. “What are you even doing here?”
“That’s what you think is most important right now!”
“This is my house!”
The dip of his eyebrows eased when he recognized the anger in your eyes. He never liked to make you mad; it rarely did him any good when you had no problem putting him in his place. “You have the good coffee,” he said. “And I wanted to talk to you, so I used the spare key and thought I would wait until you got up.”
Jake crossed his arms from behind you, and it was only that simple movement that had Brad’s death glare back on him. It shocked you that Hangman managed to keep his mouth shut. The cocky arrogance you knew he possessed could have reared its ugly head in a half-second in response to Brad’s outburst, but he was holding himself back.
“Did you get drunk after we left,” Rooster asked you. “Did he take advantage of y—”
“Jesus, no!” you shouted, slapping at the side of his arm. “What the hell is wrong with you? Am I not old enough, mature enough, to decide to be with him on my own?”
He scoffed. “Be with him? That sounds like whatever this—” he motioned between you and Jake “—is, will be more than a one-time thing?”
“That’s because it isn’t a one-time thing, jackass,” Jake said, and you shot him a look of warning.
Rooster’s eyes narrowed. “That better be a lie.”
“Bradley—”
“That better be a goddamn lie, Y/N!”
You recoiled at his shout, but regaining your backbone, said, “It’s not a lie!”
Seconds passed, achingly quiet, then Rooster shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I do not approve of this,” he spit out through gritted teeth.
“Brad—”
“And neither will Uncle Mav.”
His words stunned you into silence and wasn’t until the front door to your house slammed closed that you snapped out of it. Muscled arms wrapped around your body from behind as a kiss fell onto the crook where your neck met your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered against your skin.
“Don’t be,” you sighed, and twisted in his arms until you could lay your head against his bare chest. “He’s out of line. We’ll figure it out.”
“You’re not going to dump me because of this?”
You looked up at him and ran a finger softly along the line of his jaw, and when that fingertip reached the middle of his chin, you gently pulled his face forward and kissed him.
“No,” you said. “So don’t worry.”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake hangman seresin fic#jake seresin top gun#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman seresin x y/n#hangman top gun#hangman x reader#hangman fic#jake seresin maverick#top gun maverick
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watermelons. | JS x Reader
SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.
PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader
A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.
He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.
And by the girls, he means your tits.
Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.
And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.
The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.
“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.
“Back off, Bradshaw”
And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.
“Hi sweetheart”
It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.
“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.
“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.
And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.
All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.
That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.
“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.
He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.
You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.
“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.
You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”
Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.
You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.
“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.
Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.
“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.
The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.
The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.
Jake Seresin was a tits guy.
So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.
You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.
“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”
He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.
“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.
you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.
“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.
You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.
“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.
#fic: watermelon#promising young lady : enid writes📝#short and bad but oh well#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#jake seresin smut#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin x reader#top gun maverick#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman fluff#hangman fanfiction#glen powell#glen powell smut#top gun maverick smut#jake seresin fanfiction
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Slow Ride
Jake saves her from a creep at the bar. She repays him in the best way she can think and rides him to his favourite song
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected sex, hand job, fingering, riding, car sex, creampie
There was nobody she hated more than Jake Seresin. Ever since he'd come back to North Island, she hated him. But she hated him because she couldn't hate him.
Working behind the bar in The Hard Deck, she met her share of navy pilots. They were flirts, yes, but they were harmless flirts. But they knew what would happen if they push things, knew the consequences of disrespecting her.
Jake Seresin knew, too. He approached the bar with his usual charming smile and ordered a round of beers. She didn't say much as she got him the round of drinks. But still, even once he had them, Jake stayed to flirt with her.
She didn't flirt back, didn't want him to get the wrong idea. It had happened before, and the guy had flirted with her. He'd taken it too far and had gotten himself kicked out (well, Jake had been the one to throw him out).
There was one thing she liked about Jake, though. The fact that he protected her from the few creeps that had coming into The Hard Deck. He always had an eye on her, even when he was playing pool, making sure that nobody ever made her feel uncomfortable.
That was the thing. Although she hated Jake, he looked out for her. There was a time she was considering quitting her job at The Hard Deck. She loved her job, loved working for penny and loved how polite most of the aviators were. But there were a few guys that made things unbearable.
Until her knight in shining armour stepped in.
Jake didn't always have to step in and save her, but she loved it every time he did.
Like tonight. Cory was a regular, and a regular creep. He'd been kicked out more times than she could count, but he always found his way back in. Always slipped through the cracks and made it to the bar.
Thank God Jake saw him before she did. Even as Cory sat at the bar and whistled for her, Jake was there. He stood beside Cory and cleared his throat. "Can I help you?" He asked, trying to stay between Cory and herself.
Cory rolled his eyes and looked away from Jake. He turned his attention to her, wearing a smile that made her sick to her stomach. "Hey, pretty darlin'," he said, reaching across the bar towards her.
But Jake caught his hand before he could get it any closer. "You're not allowed in here, Cory," Jake said with a sneer as he pushed Cory away. "Get out before I make you get out."
Cory let out a laugh and shook Jake off. "Piss off, Bagman," he said, using the nickname that Jake normally didn't mind.
But Cory hadn't earned the right to use it. And it infuriated him. "Say that again," he challenged.
"Jake," she said from behind the bar, trying to grab his attention. As much as she liked Jake being there, protecting her, she didn't want it to get out of hand.
But Cory ignored Jake. He turned his attention to the poor woman behind the bar. "C'mon, pretty darlin'," he said as he leaned forward. "Let's say we get out of here after this."
The moment his hand reached out and touched the bottom of her skirt, Jake had him out of his seat, holding him up by his collar as he pressed him against the wall. "Fucking try it," he pretty much growled, spit flying into Cory's face.
Everybody in the bar had stopped what they were doing to watch. They watched as Jake dropped him, following Cory out of the bar. He made sure he was gone, too scared to come back before he returned to the bar.
"Sorry about that, sweets," said Jake as he sat on the bar stool and looked at her.
She placed a drink in front of him, one he hadn't ordered. "On the house," she said. "For being my hero."
Jake took it gratefully. He didn't return to the squad, instead staying at the bar with her until she closed up. Even then, even once she'd kicked everybody out, Jake stayed with her. He stayed with her as she cleaned and closed the bar and waited while she locked the doors.
But still, he didn't want to leave her. So, Jake walked her to her car. It wasn't creepy, no. It was comforting.
"I still feel like I should pay you back somehow," she said as she leaned against her car.
Jake let his typical charming smile come onto his face. "That beer was thanks enough, sweets."
Before she knew it, she was opening the back door to her car and gesturing for him to climb in. Jakes heart thundered in his chest as he did just that. He climbed in and scootched over to the furthest seat, giving her space to climb in beside him.
She did just that. Placing her back into the front seat, she climbed in beside Jake. "I wanted to give you a proper thank you," she said almost sheepishly as she leaned forward and grabbed a hold of her phone.
The music that sounded from the phone was a song Jake immediately recognised. She dropped her phone on the dash and climbed into the back. But she didn't sit beside him. No, she settled onto his lap, her arms around his neck.
"Fuck," Jake hissed as he looked at her. There was no telling how much he'd wanted this. "Are we gonna fuck to Slow Ride?"
She played with the hair at the back of his neck as she ground her hips against his own. "I dunno, Hangman. Do you want me to ride you to Slow Ride?"
He swallowed thickly and nodded his head. That was all she needed to hear. Her lips hesitantly attached to his own and his hands settled on her hips. Jake let her take control. He let her set the pace, let her decide how the kiss was going. Before too long she was kissing down his neck and undressing him in the back seat of her car.
Jake couldn't believe it. Here he was, fucking her in his car. He let out a hiss at the feeling of teeth against his neck.
Suddenly, she removed her hands from around his neck and reached between them. She popped the button on his jeans and immediate freed his cock.
Fuck, he was big. But, compared to the rest of him it was unsurprising. She wrapped her fingers around his shaft as she returned her lips to his.
The way Jake was gripping her hips, it was bruising. He reached under her skirt, touching her ass. Squeezing and groping, listening to her little whines and moans as she jacked him off.
The moment her thumb swiped over his tip, Jake ripped the material of the tights covering her ass. He hadn't meant to, just want to pull them down. But he couldn't help it. It was just so fucking good.
As soon as her tights were ripped, it was easy enough to slip his fingers beneath her panties. She was so goddamn wet. And those noises! They were music to Jakes ears.
"Goddamn, sweets," he grunted. The moment he touched her folds, her movements stopped. "So fucking wet f' me." His finger touched her clit and her body fell against his own. "Gonna ride me to Slow Ride?"
Her whines were desperate as she frantically lined his cock up with her entrance. She sank down onto him, eyes rolling back. "Holy Fuck," he grunted.
"Jake," she mewed desperate, her body against his own. He was so goddamn big, she didn't know how she was taking all of him. "Wanna move."
Jake immediately understood. She wanted to ride him, but she couldn’t move. He gripped her hips once again and began moving her, bouncing her on his cock.
It wasn't a slow ride. Not in the slightest. Her cunt just felt too good squeezing him, he couldn't slow down.
When Jake got her moving at her own rhythm, he pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her chest. Jake kissed her. He kissed down her chest until he got to what wasn't being covered by her bra.
As Jake got closer and closer, he wrapped his arms around her moved her body, her body limp against his. Her cries and whines were continuous, unbroken against the skin on his shoulder. She clenched around him, eyes shut as she came. But she was so out of it, so drunk on his cock, she hardly noticed.
"That's it, sweets," Jake mumbled as he kissed the side of her head. "I'm almost there."
And, seconds later Jake was cumming, his climax taking over him as he gripped her tight. "Fuck, fuck," he grunted, stilling her.
But he didnt pull out of her. He kept his arms around him as she laid against his chest, kissing the sweaty skin there. "That was incredible," she whispered as her body began to shake and shiver.
"We'll have to do that again, uh, sweets? He asked abd she nodded in agreement.
#jake seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin smut#jake seresin x reader smut#jake seresin x you#top gun#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#hangman imagine#hangman x reader#hangman smut#hangman x you#top gun hangman#top gun imagine
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Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader
Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.
Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+
Length: 2600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger
Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys.
"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."
At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.
"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."
You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?"
He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."
You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."
He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips.
"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."
Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends.
But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat.
"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!"
You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."
You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."
"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere.
It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."
"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.
"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth.
You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.
"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."
Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.
"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door.
"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."
He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.
------------------------
"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.
"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."
"Can I try one?"
"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you.
Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway.
"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered.
"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"
"Yeah, it's fucking good."
A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.
"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."
Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes.
Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"
The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.
I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?
He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back.
"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.
"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.
I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.
When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"
"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning.
Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.
Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.
Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."
"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case.
Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.
Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.
But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."
"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.
"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best."
"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"
"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon.
When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."
You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."
-----------------------
When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.
"Home?"
He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."
"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."
Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."
"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow.
"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."
You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"
The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."
The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."
The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."
You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them.
"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.
"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now."
Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back.
"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."
"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.
You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air.
"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.
"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."
------------------------------
You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!
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#jake hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#hangman imagine#jake hangman imagine#jake seresin fic#jake seresin imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfiction#top gun imagine#top gun maverick imagine#roosterforme#sundays are for the boys
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When Jake Met Polly
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller
or
Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.
Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.
Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3
“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”
You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.
“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.
“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.
“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.
“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.
“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.
“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.
“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.
He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.
“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.
“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.
“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.
You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.
–
Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.
“Can I help you ma’am?”
You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.
“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.
“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.
“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.
“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.
Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.
“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.
“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.
“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.
When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.
“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.
“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.
“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.
“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”
“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.
“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.
“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.
“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”
“What the hell did I just suggest, then?”
You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.
“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.
“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.
“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”
Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.
“I don’t even want to know.”
You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”
You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.
“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.
“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.
“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.
Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.
“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”
You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.
“I like that in a man.”
Hangman laughs.
–
“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.
“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.
“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”
Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.
“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.
“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.
You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.
“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.
“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”
You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.
“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”
Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.
“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.
“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”
Jake laughs and nods at you.
“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”
You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.
When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.
“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.
“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.
“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin#hangman x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#jake 'hangman' seresin fanfic#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 11
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff
WC: ~2300
Part 1 | Masterlist
“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”
You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.
Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.
“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.
“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”
“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.
“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.
“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”
Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”
You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”
“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.
You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”
“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.
You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”
“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”
Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.
“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”
You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”
Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”
“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.
“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.
“Why not?”
Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”
You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”
Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”
“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.
Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”
Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”
Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”
“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.
“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”
“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.
“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”
“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.
Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”
You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.
“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.
“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.
Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”
Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”
Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”
Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.
“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.
“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.
“Why not?” Bradley enquires.
“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.
“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.
“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”
Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”
You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”
Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.
“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”
You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.
You continue studying your feet. “I think.”
“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.
“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”
Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.
Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”
“What else?” Jake says quickly.
You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”
Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”
Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”
Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”
“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.
Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”
Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.
You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”
Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”
“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.
You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”
Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”
“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”
Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”
“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.
“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.
Jake looks back at you. “He is?”
“How so?” Bradley asks.
You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”
Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”
Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”
You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”
He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.
“Happy,” you continue.
This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.
“Strong,” you say.
“Wow,” Bradley mutters.
Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”
“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.
Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.
Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.
…
Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.
There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.
You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.
He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.
When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.
You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.
Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.
You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”
You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.
“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.
“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.
Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”
“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”
Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.
You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”
“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.
You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”
Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.
“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.
He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”
*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*
Read Part 12
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jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends
Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.
For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.
“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.
“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”
Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”
“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.
“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”
“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.
You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”
He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.
“Do you think-”
You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.
It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.
“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”
You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.
“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”
“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.
“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”
Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”
“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.
"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."
"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."
You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.
"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.
"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.
"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."
"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."
"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."
"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.
"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."
"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."
"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."
"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."
A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.
"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."
"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."
"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.
"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."
"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"
"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"
Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."
"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."
"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"
Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"
"Lavender."
"Lavender?"
"I know!"
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