#top gun maverick hangman
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Ch. 24: Happy Thanksgiving
Warning: Mention of miscarriage. Some chapters have sex.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.
The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.
I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.
These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)
Thanksgiving dinner unfolded seamlessly, and every one of Jake's family members buzzed with excitement over your news.
You were assisting Cindy in the kitchen when your cellphone rang. Grabbing it, you saw Jake's face and name on the caller ID.
"It's him, everybody!" you announced excitedly, unable to hide your smile.
As Cindy prepared the kitchen table with the birth announcement decorations, you answered the phone.
"Hey, babe!" you greeted warmly, your voice tinged with both nerves and excitement.
He grinned back, his green eyes twinkling through the screen. "Hey, darlin'! You're mighty cheerful today."
You beamed in response. "I'm always cheerful when you call."
"That is true."
"Let me flip the camera around so you can talk with everyone," you said, pressing the button on your phone to switch to the rear camera. You began walking around, allowing Jake to greet his family members one by one as their faces lit up at seeing him.
As the phone passed from one family member to another, the anticipation built up. Each greeting was filled with warmth and small hints of the upcoming announcement, yet no one spilled the beans. Finally, after everyone had their moment to chat with Jake, you took the phone back, positioning it so that both you and Cindy were in frame.
"Jake, before you say anything else, we have something special to tell you," Cindy began, her voice full of excitement. The background clearly showed the decorations hinting at the big news.
Jake's expression shifted from joyful to stunned as his gaze settled on the creative display you and Cindy had arranged. The centerpiece was his U.S. Naval Academy hat, which you had retrieved from his closet. Alongside it, you placed a printed picture of your ultrasound. You had also found a small dry erase board on which you wrote, 'Baby boy Seresin flying in April.'
You watched his face, eagerly anticipating his reaction to the carefully planned announcement.
Jake's eyes widened as he took in the scene, his surprise evident even through the small screen. For a moment, he was speechless, his mouth agape as he processed the news.
"You're serious?" Jake finally managed, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and disbelief. "We're having a baby? Y/N, where are you?"
You took the phone back from Matt, who had been holding it, and switched the view so you were looking directly at him. "I'm right here."
"Seriously? We're having a baby?" His voice was filled with growing excitement and a touch of nervousness, as the reality of the moment began to sink in.
You glanced at Cindy, who gave you an encouraging nod, and walked into Jake's bedroom where you had been staying. You closed the door behind you, settling onto the edge of the bed, you faced the camera squarely. "Yes, Jake. We're having a baby."
Recognizing the familiar surroundings, his tone mixed happiness with concern. "Baby, I'm so happy, but…how far along are you?"
"Just hit four months this week," you replied softly.
"And you're just telling me now?"
You sighed, gathering the courage to express your feelings. "Because I didn't know how you'd react, Jake."
Jake's features softened further as he absorbed your words. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture you knew all too well as his way of processing complex emotions. "I get it," he said slowly, nodding his head. "Are you still working?"
"Yes," you responded, eager to reassure him. "I have interns for both the grant and work. I don't step in unless absolutely necessary." You watched for his reaction, hoping he would understand your commitment to both your work and your health during the pregnancy.
Jake ran his hands through his hair again, his face a mixture of seriousness and hesitation. "Since we're still all about this honesty thing, I did it on purpose."
Confused by his vague admission, you furrowed your brow. "What do you mean?" you asked, your voice filled with uncertainty and concern, seeking clarity on what he was trying to tell you.
Jake's words hung heavily between you. "Those four years killed me after we lost the first baby. You are my life, Y/N. I wanted another child with you. That first night when we used protection, I felt like you didn't want me anymore."
Taken aback by his confession, you responded, the surprise evident in your tone. "Jake, that's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I used protection because I care about us, about making sure we're both ready and that it's safe. It wasn't about not wanting you—it was about caring for our future together." Your words were firm, hoping to bridge the gap his misunderstanding had created.
Jake's eyes searched yours, the realization dawning slowly as he absorbed your words. "I… I got it so wrong, didn't I?" he murmured, his voice a mix of regret and sadness. "I let my fear and my own insecurities cloud my judgment. I thought if we didn’t try immediately, you might never want to try again."
"Oh, Jake," you sighed, your voice soft but filled with a mixture of love and frustration. "You have always been my world. Why did you never see it?"
Jake's expression shifted, reflecting vulnerability. "Because you were the first person that I love so much it scared me," he admitted, his voice catching slightly. His confession revealed the depth of his feelings and the fears that accompanied them, providing a glimpse into the complexities of his emotions towards you and your relationship.
"Open the door, Y/N," he said.
"Jake, I can't do that," you responded, the confusion deepening. "I'm not there with you."
"Just try opening my bedroom door," he insisted.
You slid off his bed and made your way to the bedroom door. Reaching out, you gently opened it. Just then, Jake came into view, dressed in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a bomber jacket. He put down his phone, his green eyes locking onto yours.
"Jake!" you cried out, your phone slipping from your grasp as you threw your arms around him. At the same time, his arms encircled you, holding you close.
His embrace was tight and reassuring, as if he was trying to make up for all the time lost and the distance that had once been between you. Overwhelmed by the suddenness and the reality of his presence, tears began to well up in your eyes.
"How? When?" you managed to ask between sobs, pulling back just enough to look at him, searching his face for answers.
"The mission got done earlier than expected and I took the first flight. I let mom and dad know. I wanted to surprise you," Jake explained, his voice warm, his smile gentle.
Your heart raced with a mixture of joy and astonishment. "You're really here," you whispered, almost to reassure yourself as much as to express your disbelief.
"Yes, I'm really here," he reassured, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped down your cheek. "And I'm not going anywhere, at least not for a little bit."
"Are you excited about the baby?"
"Darlin', I'm excited about everything that involves you." With those words, Jake leaned in and kissed you deeply.
The kiss was a clear testament to his commitment and love, a reassurance that despite the challenges and surprises that had come your way, your bond remained strong. As you parted from the kiss, you felt a surge of hope and excitement about what lay ahead.
"I have so many plans, so many dreams for us and our baby," Jake said, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. "I want to be there for every moment, every milestone."
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a comforting blanket. "I'm glad you're here now. That's what matters most."
"I love you, Y/N. Always have, always will," he declared.
"I love you too, Jake Seresin."
You both leaned in for another kiss.
Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @86laura11 @dizzybee03 @kmc1989 @guacam011y @nerdgirljen @hookslove1592 @dempy @djs8891
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#glen powell#hangman top gun#hangman#top gun maverick hangman#hangman fanfic#top gun fanfic#jake hangman x reader#hangman x reader#top gun hangman#hangman fanfiction#jake hangman fic#hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin fic#jake seresin#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x reader
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not to be crude or anything but i need him in my bed, like, right now.
#top gun: maverick#top gun 2#top gun fanfiction#top gun hangman#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin x you#jake hangman fic#jake seresin#hangman series#hangman x y/n#top gun maverick hangman#hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#hangman seresin x you#hangman fluff#hangman smut
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cowboy up.
jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.6k)
summary: Jake’s a tease. and a cowboy. it makes your friends sick
warnings: really none i think, just talk of and allusions to sex
authors note: very loosely based off of “Dirty Looks” by Lainey Wilson. it got me into the mood to write a little something. briefly mentioned that reader is Ice’s daughter
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"Well hello, mi cowboy."
It's the deliciously sensual roll of the endearment off of your tongue that has Jake hooking two fingers through the loop of your jeans and tugging you firmly into his side as he approaches the bar. It starts up an engine-like rumble in his chest that travels up his throat and catches, vibrating while he bows down to kiss you. Just the sight of your sweet smile has the weariness of the day melting off of him.
El cowboy, you mother had appraised with great enthuse the first time you had brought Jake home, and he greeted her with his smooth as honey southern drawl. Being Latino and having grown up just along the border in El Paso, her English was still licked with Spanish flare and it made everything she said sound rivetingly amorous. Even after three years of dating, she still widely referred to him as the cowboy—your cowboy.
"Hey, darlin'. Sorry I wasn't here sooner. There were some mechanical issues with my plane and I couldn't get away," he apologizes, hence the grease stains on his hands. He had probably only taken the time to change into a fresh set of clothes before leaving base and driving straight to the Hard Deck.
You only hum, tipping your head up to steal a second kiss before he straightens. "Glad you're here now."
Jake has to stop himself from chasing your lips for a third. Penny's warned him about getting too frisky at the bar. It's not his fault when you taste like strawberry margaritas and are wearing those jeans that you know drive him crazy.
But when he looks over his shoulder, Penny's sliding him an ice cold beer from across the bar. "This one's on the house, Seresin." The gleam shining in her eyes tells him that she's caught the two of you but is going to let it slide this time.
When he opens his mouth to argue, already digging his wallet out of his pocket, she shakes her head. "Looks like you had a long day. Enjoy the beer."
"Really, Pen, I—"
Penny's back is already turned as she heads to the other side of the bar to serving an incoming crowd of aviators.
Jake glances down to his well worn boots while his hand goes to his jaw to feel at the beginnings of a five o'clock shadow. Does he really look that worn out? He has to resist the urge to smell himself.
He looks back to you, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for showing up like this. Here he is, covered in sweat and engine grease, while his own girlfriend is standing next to him, looking way out of his league. Even the Dagger Squad looks fresh and put together. It would have been hard to guess that they had all been out sweating on the tarmac together earlier in the day.
"I probably should have cleaned up," he admits, running a hand over the cropped hair at the back of his neck. He's wondering if he can at least escape to the bathroom for a minute to stick his head under the sink.
What Jake doesn't know is that you might actually kill him if he does that. There's something about the combination of his off-duty khakis and dusty boots that is making your heart flutter. The tousle of his blonde hair after a long day and ruddy flush of his already tan cheeks give off the impression that he's more than just a pretty face. He looks hard working and very, very capable.
"Jake?"
"Hmm?" he hums, having been eyeing the bathrooms, contemplating even just splashing some water on his face.
Your heart squeezes painfully when his dazzling green eyes turn back to land on yours, eyebrows raised in question, fully attuned to whatever it is that you may need. "What baby—"
He stops mid sentence when you pull him down by the back of his neck to kiss him. This time it's a much less chaste kiss than the one you greeted him with, and he gets to really taste the strawberry margarita on your lips—a bit sweet, a little salty. The taste makes his mouth tingle and he's not sure if it's you or the tequila that's making him feel buzzed.
Jake's hand immediately slips around your waist, his large hand on your back, pressing you into him. A groan slips out of him when his fingers brush the warm skin just above the rise of your jeans.
The fact that you had purposefully chosen not to wear your khakis like himself and the rest of the crew makes Jake that much more hot and bothered. It's not that he dislikes your usual naval attire, because he doesn't. He loves how it fits you, who you become when you wear it, your signature "Frostbite" embroidered on the front—the name he gave you. It's the fact he's come in, dead on his feet from working all day, and his diamond of a girlfriend is wearing an outfit she put on just for him.
Really, Jake thinks his chest might just implode.
His free hand had been holding his beer out to the side, momentarily forgotten once you'd started kissing him. Blindly, he sets it down behind him, the glass clinking against the bar top so that he can get both of his hands on you without spilling. He prefers you, the taste of your skin anyhow.
"So damn sweet," he groans into the underside of your jaw, eyes shut as he fights the urge to say fuck it and take you home now. "Could just eat you."
You laugh, fingers gripping his blonde hair. "Is that a promise, cowboy?" Jake's teeth scrape your pulse point and your fingers tighten. His body is hot pressed flushed against you, moving as you move so that the contact never breaks.
"Baby, I'd devour you," he promises huskily into your ear. Mav has been working them to the bone for the past few weeks, and Jake has hardly had the energy to climb the front steps when he gets home, much less make it to the bedroom. To say you've both been left wanting is an understatement.
His lips press wetly to your neck. "You look good, Frosty Girl. You know how much I love those jeans..."
You hum, eyes fluttering closed as Jake sends you to that place. That place where only you and Jake exist, where the worries of the day melt away, and it smells like his cinnamon oak body wash and the hint of beer on his breath. It doesn't matter than he smells slightly of sweat and jet fuel because that's just him. That's what makes him Jake.
"Mmm, you do?" Of course he does. Jake Seresin drinks the air you breathe and worships the ground you walk on. "I think you'll like what I have on under them more."
If Jake had been twenty-one again, he'd have a raging hard on in his jeans right now. After two years of dating you, he's developed a bit of self control since then. He spent a lot of lunch breaks jacking off in the bathroom the first few months. All you had to do was rub up against him climbing out the back seat of the cockpit and he was sneaking off to take care of himself before any of the Dagger squad could see the missile sized hard on in his pants.
Jake smiles, his pearly white grin pressed into your neck. His jade green eyes peer up at you with a gleam of anticipation.
"Black?" he guesses, his nimble fingertips already dipping just past your waistband to brush across the lace he knows he's going to find.
"Uhh mm," you deny, enjoying the thrill of teasing him with your secret.
His warm breath fans across your neck. "Red?"
The corners of your mouth quirk up into a look that Jake can only describe as devilish. "I figured you deserved a treat. I know you've been—" Before you can finish, Jake is kissing you. His pink lips are cool and a bit wet from the beer he's been nursing, but his tongue is hot and slick and wet and it just feels so good.
"Jesus. Get a room, you two."
Despite the roar of blood in his ears, the buzzing in his veins, Jake recognizes the sound of Bradley's voice just a table away.
Begrudgingly pulling away from the kiss, Jake doesn't release you just yet, just moves his head to look over your shoulder. He had hardly even acknowledged the Dagger Squad when he walked in, too focused on you. And maybe that's on him.
"Sorry, Bradshaw. Didn't see you there." You can tell Jake's smirking over your shoulder, hand not so slyly cupping the curve of your ass as he reaches for his beer with the other, playing at indifference. He takes a slow swig of it, unbothered by the fact that your friends -you coworkers- are all watching. "I was busy saying hello to my unbelievably sexy girlfriend."
Without breaking eye contact with Bradley, Jake plants a filthy wet kiss to the pulse point of your neck. It's enough to make the other aviator's mustache twitch and his throat constrict with a impulsive swallow. Regardless of how they acted— always at each other’s throats— there was no longer any bad blood between the two pilots. That feud had been settled on the Uranium mission last year and was replaced by new found respect, but that didn’t mean that they didn’t seize every opportunity to ruffle the other’s feathers.
"This is a public space," Natasha reminds him, as if he were unaware of the extremely crowded bar.
Jake smirks. "Oh believe me, I'm holding back for Floyd's sake. Wouldn't want to ruin his innocence."
The weapon system officer emits a noise of protest from across the table, his cheeks flashing an embarrassed hue of red. "I've already told you, I'm not a virgin!"
You giggle into Jake's shoulder at his complait, content to bask in the temporary stronghold of your boyfriend's embrace. It's nice to get moments with him like this, away from the stress of work and without the pressure of success weighing on your shoulders.
Of course your friends knew about yours and Jake's relationship, had known since the very first date, but in nearly three years of dating, they had come to the realization that they knew very little about your relationship. Work was strictly professional for the two of you and even at the bar, the most intimate thing they'd ever seen occur was Jake greeting you with a quick kiss.
"Damn, Bagman, you walking in here, kiss Frost senseless, and now she's giggling? You're telling me that's all it takes to bring her from she-devil to—giggling?" Coyote asks from behind his pool cue, sauntering over to join the group.
Jake, his green eyes gleaming, slips his warm palm under your shirt to smooth over the exposed curve of your hip. "I can make her do a lot more than giggle, Machado."
You groan, burying your embarrassingly flushed face further into Jake's neck. Although your boyfriend may be able to play the nonchalance card, you can only take so much of their teasing.
You push away from Jake before he can start full on groping you in front of your friends. If there's one thing about Jake, he has no shame when it comes to showing you off.
"I don't giggle, Javy," you stress, choosing to ignore Jake's comment.
Fanboy, who is never far behind the other pilot, saunters over and slings an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Giggle? I've never even seen you crack a smile."
Before you can respond, Jake is sliding an impossibly large palm around to cup the back of your neck, fingers digging in to the tense muscle that he knows is there. Relax, is what that means. "Careful, she does bite." He's grinning, a smug, but knowing smirk on his face.
"Fuck, man. I knew you were into that kinky shit," Coyote quips, and it evokes a few laughs from the Dagger squad, save for Natasha, who pretends to roll her eyes.
Jake grins. "Damn straight."
"Easy, cowboy," you warn, your eyes narrowing at him in playful warning.
You're not necessarily embarrassed by Jake's insinuation of your sex life, the two of you were well established in your relationship and you trusted your friends too much to be embarrassed by that kind of thing. It's just that being Admiral Kazanky's daughter meant that too many people assumed you had only made it this far because of your old man or that you were sleeping through the ranks, which was far from the truth.
You deserved to be here. And Jake knows this, which is why his thumb is still massaging at the pressure point at the base of your skull, just behind your ear. Everything about him, from the reassuring smile he directs at you to his relaxed body language is him letting you know that it's all in good fun, and no one here thinks that you don’t belong here in the slightest.
Bradley's shaking his head as he lounges against the pool table. "I don't know what I'm going to have to tell my therapist about first, the fact that Frost calls you 'cowboy' or the fact you probably get off on that shit.”
Jake grins, toothpick bobbing in his mouth as his impish smile widens. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Bradshaw?”
The truth is, he does. Behind the cool and collected facade that he’s putting up, bantering back and forth with your friends while he sips his beer, he’s just the right amount of hot and bothered that he wouldn’t mind calling it a night just to go home and have his way with you. He hasn’t forgotten about the little red number you’re wearing.
Having lost the attention of the rest of the squad to the pool table during his and Rooster’s banter, Jake shifts his focus to you. Large hand coming to rest on your back, he dips down to murmur in your ear. “Think I’m about ready to turn in, kid. What do you say we get out of here?”
Your pretty face turns towards him, and you don’t miss the gleam in his green eyes. Smiling privately to yourself, you eyes reflect his knowingly. “Rooster will never let you live it down. You only just got here.” However, that doesn’t mean you can’t be coerced.
Jake hums, his lips pressing to your temple in a kiss that’s meant to hide the fact that he’s whispering— plotting— in your ear. “I’ll buy ‘em around on the way out. They won’t even notice we’re gone,” he reasons.
You smile, turning back to the game of pool as Jake leans over you before you give him. “Go on,” you finally encourage. “I’ll follow you out.”
Grinning and all too pleased with himself, Jake slips off behind you, but not before giving an affectionate pat to your ass. You have to refrain from rolling your eyes at him.
You wait a while before discreetly making your escape form the pool table, grabbing your things as you go. Jake’s waiting for you at the door, all too pleased to see you, as though he hadn’t just five minutes before. “Made it?”
“Yeah, I don’t think they—”
“Well damn, goodbye to you guys too!” Rooster calls from across the bar. Obviously having noticed your departure, the Dagger Squad is all standing around the pool table, shaking their heads in varying levels of amused disapproval.
Payback crosses his arms. “You guys make me sick.���
Opening the door for you, Jake turns and tips his imaginary cowboy hat at them with an grin. “Sorry man. If you all will excuse me, I’ve got some riding to do.”
#top gun maverick#top gun fic#topgun maverick#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin#top gun maverick hangman#jake hangman seresin#hangman top gun#hangman x reader
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Cross || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: The four times you captured Jake Seresin’s attention and the one time he did something about it.
A/N: A request from a friend. Enjoy!
Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 6,500+
TW: Abuse (Physical)
One
From an early age you learned how to sit down, shut up and do what you were told. Growing up on the south side of Chicago didn’t bode well for the greatest childhood. Your parents, if you could even call them that, gave you a shelter and sometimes some food but other than that? You were on your own from a very early age with your older brothers. Who quite frankly didn’t give a shit about you either.
You wished and prayed that your parents would snap out of it and start taking care of their children, but they never did. You gave up praying on your eighth birthday when your mom picked the pills over her own babies. Classic drug addicts. You gave up trying to form a relationship on your tenth birthday when you had to call an ambulance because your dad was unresponsive. He lived, somehow.
Things often got violent in the household. You learned how to protect yourself, learning how to fight back against two methed out parents by the age of twelve. Realizing quickly you had to learn how to defend yourself or you’d likely end up dead. You did just that. You wished your parents were alcoholics like every other parent on the south side. But no, they had to be hard drug users. They were so terribly unpredictable. Sometimes they’d treat you like gold but the very next day you could be getting beat on, you just never knew. You had to be ready at all times. It was exhausting being in constant fight or flight mode.
On your eighteenth birthday you left without saying a word. You didn’t have a plan nor a cent to your name but you sure were scrappy. You’d found weird jobs across the country for a few years before landing in San Diego and meeting Penny Benjamin.
You liked to think Penny saved your life from spiraling even further than it had. She was desperate for a bartender, and you were desperate for a stable job. You ended up falling in love with the job and the area. Most days were great, but some days were awful. And today? Today was one of those awful days.
“Hey sweetie, how about another beer?” A lovely patron of the Hard Deck clinked his empty beer glass against the wood countertop eyeing you up and down. Disgusting. You’d gotten used to brazen men checking you out, but it never ceased to amaze you just how gross they could get. Especially with a little beer in their system.
Rolling your eyes, you simply ignored him deciding to focus your attention elsewhere. Not giving the creepy old man who couldn’t seem to stop eye fucking you any satisfaction. You greeted a younger couple happily chatting away with them trying to ignore the creep as best as you could.
“Baby, I’m talking to you.” He yelled from across the bar interrupting you from the conversation. Penny gave you a look asking if you could handle it. You could. You dealt with these gross drunks all the time. It still didn’t make it pleasant though.
Giving her a quick nod, you turned back to the couple.
You were so tempted to ring that damn bell, but it was more effort than it was worth tonight. See, it was a Friday night at the hard deck and a bunch of Top Gun pilots were back making it even busier than you were used to. You didn’t have time to think let alone serve this entire bar another round. So, you decided against it instead finishing up the order you were already working on.
Once you finished serving the couple you turned your attention back to the man knowing you’d have to confront him eventually. You decided to serve everybody around him first making sure to pay him no attention.
“Baby is playing hard to get.”
Snapping your eyes up at him you swore your nostrils were flaring, “Don’t you fucking baby me.” You were tired. So damn tired of men thinking they could speak to you like you were nothing. Like your only purpose on this god forsaken planet is to serve them beer and look pretty.
“Feisty little one.” He winked as he slid his empty glass in front of you.
“Get the fuck out of this bar.” You stared at him with icy eyes. Any friendliness in your tone completely gone.
You noticed him pause at your words. Taking a second to see if you were being serious. It didn’t work though, he continued to press on, “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have a mouth like that.” He slurred his words this time.
“Get the fuck out. Now.” Nearly growling you turned away. You were far too busy to be dealing with this shit right now. Another bartender called off and it was just you and Penny trying to serve hundreds of impatient people.
You didn’t make it too far feeling a cold hand wrap around your wrist.
Fuck it. He started it.
Turning around quickly you made a fist out of your hand like it was second nature. Not putting much thought into it you used all your might as your hand collided with his right eye. He dropped to the floor almost instantly with a thud sending the bar into an almost eerie silence.
“Fuck.” You groaned shaking your wrist out. You had forgotten just how bad it hurt to make direct contact like that. Penny flew over to you making sure you were okay.
It suddenly hit you how silent the bar had gotten after you threw that nasty punch. Only hearing a few whistles from the aviators over in the corner who were all eagerly watching in anticipation. Looking up at them you saw them all nodding and smiling. Simply thrilled this had happened while they were there.
“You okay?” Penny asked as she wrapped some ice in a towel for you.
“Perfectly fine.” You smiled graciously accepting the ice. Your knuckles were already turning purple from the impact.
She leaned over the bar to assess the damage you had inflicted, “Damn girl. You knocked him out cold.” Penny gave you a wide eyed expression as she turned back to you.
Smiling awkwardly at the customers who were still a little shocked you decked someone right in the face, you mimicked Penny leaning over the bar taking a peek. Nodding to yourself you were quite proud of that hit. Not that you necessarily condoned violence but sometimes it was necessary, like right now.
Penny rang the bell trying to liven the crowd back up and trying to signal for the young pilots to come over, “Seresin! Fitch! Throw him out will you?” She yelled to the two closest aviators who couldn’t seem to get enough of what was going on.
“Yes ma’am.” The pretty blond pilot answered her grinning from ear to ear. He looked like he loved this shit. You’d never seen him before. You were sure you would’ve remembered that face. That smile.
“Thank you.” Penny smiled at him before turning back to you. Eyeing your hand, she looked at you curiously, “Can you still serve or …” She trailed off not sure what to say. It wasn’t that often that a young female bartender straight decked a customer and knocked him out cold. Of course, it was you who had to break the mold. It was always you doing something you shouldn’t have.
You weren’t a bad kid. Quite the opposite really. A bit naïve if anything, you simply wanted the best for everyone. But you also weren’t a pushover. You’d given him a few warnings and he was the one that touched you first. You felt every justification in knocking the old creep out.
You always seemed to end up in these situations though. Your trash life just seemed to follow you everywhere like a curse you couldn’t break.
Shaking your head you dropped the ice, “I’m good!”
“That was one hell of a punch.” The blond pilot spoke up drawing your eyes back towards his. Damn, he was pretty. He was even more handsome when he was a few feet from you.
“Thanks.” You laughed grabbing a glass to fill up with a draft, “Guess my dad was good for something.” Smiling brightly at him you attempted to crack a joke. It might’ve been a defense mechanism, but it was true. Your dad was a low life good for nothing fuck who would’ve sold you if he knew he could. He was far too dumb to pull anything like that off though.
His smile dropped slightly being a bit taken aback by your casual statement, “You otta teach our friend Bobby over there how to throw a punch.”
The other pilot laughed at the blonds remark as he began to pick up the unconscious man.
“I’m sure Bobby can throw a punch just fine.” You halfway returned the smile. He was trouble and you could sniff that out a mile away. Growing up like you did gave you a sort of superpower to sniff out bullshit. Being able to read people like a book surely had its advantages.
“I beg to differ.” He threw you a wink before helping his friend out. Taking a breath, you were sure this was just the first of many encounters with the blond pilot. You weren’t sure if that excited you or made you want to quit on the spot.
Two
The next few days had slowed down quite a bit at the Hard Deck. You sure did love the money you made on Friday, especially after throwing that punch, but you were thankful it was slower. Finally, being able to catch your breath after the busy weekend shift.
You were distracted serving a few customers at the bar or you would’ve seen the blonde pilot enter with a few friends. You didn’t see his face perking up ever so slightly when he saw you behind the bar. He considered himself increasingly intrigued by you. He had surely never seen any woman handle herself like that. He simply loved it.
Of course, he offered to get the first round. He wanted to talk to you, even for a moment. Payback and Coyote teased him before he walked over to you. The two of them noticed how he kept bringing you up in conversation even though he knew nothing about you.
“I have a nickname for you.” A silky smooth southern voice from behind you spoke up. Turning around you bit your cheek to hide the stupid smile that wanted to grace your face. There he was… trouble.
“And that is?”
“Cross.”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, “You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”
“You’ve got an amazing cross shot.” He grinned before continuing, “And I wouldn’t want to cross you.”
“The punch, really?” You grabbed him a few domestics from the fridge sliding them over after popping the tops.
He shrugged taking a slow sip from the glass, “What can I say? It was hot.”
You laughed shaking your head, “Noted…” You trailed off waiting for him to properly introduce himself.
“Hangman.”
“I’m not calling you Hangman. I’m Y/N.” Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a rag wiping down the counter next to him. Making sure to do anything to avoid eye contact with the pretty man.
“And why not? That’s a beautiful name, Y/N.”
“It’s weird.” You rebutted almost instantly ignoring his second comment. Terribly flirty this man was.
This time he let out a hearty laugh. He was enjoying himself all too much. The effortless back and forth between the two of you made him giddy. He could see how sharp you were, how witty you are.
“It’s not weird if I give you permission.”
You continued to clean, “I don’t need your permission. It’s still weird.”
He didn’t stop the smile that formed on his face, “Call me Jake then. I’m still calling you Cross though.”
You looked up to him now, “And if I don’t give you permission?”
“Like you said, I don’t need it.” He countered using your own words against you.
“Fair.” You narrowed your eyes in on him. He got you there, you couldn’t deny that one.
“So, where are you from doll?” You knew he was just being polite, no ill will towards the term of endearment. But you hated it. Your childhood really truly traumatized you. When you were far too young you’d have men catcalling you on the streets calling you sugar, sweetie, honey, or baby. It made your skin crawl. You hated that simple terms of endearment were traumatizing to you. Those sweet nothings were taken from you. Why couldn’t you just be normal?
“Don’t call me that.” You harshly spoke back to him. Your eyes softened seeing his confused expression, “Please.” You added trying to soften the blow.
“I thought I didn’t need permission.” He smirked, testing your boundaries.
You bit your lip thinking hard about how you wanted to respond to him, “Please.” You smiled softly, opting to go the easiest route of begging him not to.
He nodded sharply understanding your near desperation in your ask. Taking another long sip of the beer he hesitated to leave even though his fellow aviators were so patiently waiting on their own.
“Yes ma’am.” He smiled before sauntering off back towards the pool table.
You spent your night relatively busy as the Hard Deck picked up. Sending glances Jake’s way, you couldn’t seem to keep yourself from looking at him. Maybe it was the way he presented himself so surely, but no man had ever treated you with the respect he had already shown.
The bar was literally in hell, yes, but here you were also intrigued with the pretty blond pilot.
Three
It had not been a good few days. Your piece of shit ex-boyfriend had shown up at your doorstep begging you to forgive him. You had called off the shitty relationship a month ago after you caught him cheating. Trash life, trash men.
You really did think he was different until you walked in on him hooking up with a neighbor.
Long story short he wouldn’t leave. The cops had to come. Once they left he had decorated your cheek with a nice little back slap which split your lip right open. He ended up leaving after telling you just how worthless he thought you were.
You sat there crying to yourself wondering why you couldn’t get out of this shitty spiral that your life always seemed to be in. You’d escaped Chicago just to end up in the same situation that you’d grown accustomed to. Being abused by the people that should love you.
You told Penny the truth, not wanting to lie to her. Sure, she was your boss, but she was also one of your better friends here. The two of you got along like peas in a pod and you sure did suffer through enough long nights at the bar together.
She let you take the night off, understanding you would likely not be up for it.
However, she did invite you down to the beach the next day. She mentioned that shirtless pilots running around playing football might cheer you up. Not being one to pass up on such an opportunity you sped on down to the beach sitting next to Penny just outside the Hard Deck.
“Damn. You were right Penny.” You whistled lowly admiring the scene before you, “This really does help.”
She was smiling until she saw your lip, “You alright?”
“Yeah. Nothing I can’t handle. Just caught me by surprise is all.”
She was frowning now, “Did he do that before?”
“No.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Shrugging you smiled as you found Jake in the swarm of men. Damn, he looked even better shirtless. That just wasn’t fair.
“I’m used to it Penny. Can’t seem to escape it.” You laughed softly accepting your fate. It’s all you really could do. Laugh. What else could you do?
She shook her head, “Don’t say that Y/N. Nobody deserves that.”
“Sure.” You smiled towards her trying to comfort her more than yourself. She looked so worried for you.
She broke the eye contact the two of you were holding first, “Looks like you’ve got a visitor. I need to talk to Pete anyway.” She laughed after seeing your shocked expression. She was just up and leaving you to deal with the handsome stranger?
He immediately noticed your bruised cheek and busted lip. Making sure to brush the frown away quickly he plopped down next to you. Closer than you would’ve, not that you were complaining.
“Another fight there Cross?” Jake grinned hoping to extract something from the closed book that you were.
Huffing to yourself you looked up to him, “Something like that.” You kept it vague as you turned your attention to the waves rolling before you. That’s what you loved about this place. You lived mere minutes from the beach.
He nudged you with his shoulder, “Should I see the other guy?”
Blinking rapidly, you kept your attention away from him suddenly feeling awfully vulnerable as he kept his attention trained on you, “Yeah.” You whispered
“You okay?” He mimicked your whisper. Almost afraid he might spook you if he spoke too loudly.
That question knocked you back into reality, “I’m perfectly fine Jake.” You flashed him your most genuine smile careful not to bust open your lip again. You had finally gotten it to stop bleeding.
“Are you sure?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You returned his question with one of your own.
“You seem a little spacey and you have a split lip. Just checking that’s all.” Throwing his hands up in defense he refused to look away. He kept his eyes trained on your face.
You were quickly becoming an enigma to him. The two of you seemed to talk frequently but he didn’t know a damn thing about you. He knew your first name and that you bartended at the Hard Deck. That’s all he could seem to get out of you.
You nodded along noticing how defensive you had become, “Volleyball accident. Took a hit right to the chin.” Lying as casually as you could you found the courage to look back over to him.
He clearly didn’t believe you eyeing you curiously, “If that’s the story you’re sticking to. So be it I guess.”
You frowned knowing he wasn’t going to let you get away with it. He was just too confrontational, “Well, it’s the story so.”
“Bullshit.” He countered clearly ready to get into whatever this situation was.
Rolling your eyes, you turned your body away from him slightly. He was annoying. You really didn’t want anybody digging into your life. It was already embarrassing enough to come from where you did. Having to explain that to Jake sounded downright mortifying.
“Does it matter?” You replied refusing to look at him.
He scoffed this time not sure how you weren’t understanding him, “Yes it matters Y/N. Of course, it matters.”
“I slipped in the shower.” You attempted to lie again.
“Why are you lying?” He too seemed to have a mega bullshit detector just like you.
You shrugged, “I don’t really want to talk about it.”
He frowned seeing you look so utterly defeated, “Are you at least safe?”
“I think so.”
His eyes were nearly bugging out of his head now. He couldn’t understand you. How you so utterly nonchalant about whatever situation you were in he couldn’t grasp, “You think?”
Nodding your head you turned back to him, “I should be fine. I can handle him.”
“Him?” He jumped from his seat standing in front of placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You really hadn’t meant to let that one slip, but it was far too late to try and backtrack now.
Sighing you looked up to him, “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m safe. I can handle it.”
Narrowing his eyes in on you it didn’t look like he quite believed you. But what could he do? He didn’t know you and you sure weren’t planning on sharing, “Are you sure.”
You nodded, “Quite.”
He dropped his hands from your shoulders, “Alright. I should get back?” He pointed to the group almost questioning if he should go or not.
You smiled, “Sure. I’ll see you around Jake.”
“You sure will.” He winked before jogging off back to the group of aviators not able to shake the sinking feeling he had in his gut.
Four
You were in fact able to handle him the second time around. It did come at a cost though. A pretty black eye, a bruised rib and a potentially sprained wrist didn’t stop you from putting him in his place.
Completely forgetting to lock the deadbolt he was able to get in with a copy of your housekey.
The sheer rage your ex had laced in his eyes eerily reminded you of your parents when they were cracked out of their minds. Shuddering at the thought you were able to get the upper hand. You didn’t think he’d be so brazen but then again you couldn’t tell if he was high out of his mind or not.’
Of course, you realized he was a shitty dude at the end of the relationship, but this was completely out of the ordinary from him. He hadn’t laid a hand on you prior to smacking you across the face. But now? The look of sheer rage horrified you, looking like he wanted to seriously hurt you.
Being terribly confused by the whole situation didn’t help either. You just couldn’t understand why he wanted to hurt you. Why he couldn’t have just left the relationship and moved on? He was the one that cheated anyway. It’s not the two of you were terribly in love either. You were only together for a few months. You simply just chalked it up to having the world’s worst luck.
After forcing him out by hitting him with a frying pan a few times you ended up calling the cops, unsure of what to do. They weren’t much help, telling you to find a different place to stay and they’d start a document for a restraining order. It was all bullshit, and you knew it. It wasn’t worth the cost to follow through.
Deciding to call Penny instead of risking staying in the house she let you come sleep on the couch at her place. She let the small gasp come out when she saw your state. You groaned realizing just how bad you probably looked. But true to your words you didn’t really feel that bad. You were used to being roughed up.
She got you some ice for your eye and wrist letting you pick out a movie as she did so. You settled on Step Brothers hoping to take your mind off of everything.
“Thanks Penny.” You yawned beginning to feel exhaustion creep up over you.
“Anytime kid. Get some sleep kid.” She patted your head before departing to her room upstairs. You snuggled in hoping to fall into a dreamless sleep.
Penny let you stay there that day as you searched for new locks, knowing you couldn’t go back until those were changed. She also let you skip your shift that night much to Jake’s dissatisfaction. He was really looking forward to seeing you, you always worked on Thursday’s.
Penny may have let it slip that you were staying at her place just up the road and that you were ‘sick’ after Jake complained that you weren’t there.
Immediately understanding what she was putting down Jake grabbed his keys and walked out of the bar. Shooting a text to his friends letting them know he’d be right back. But he needed to see you, make sure that you were okay.
Softly knocking on Penny’s door, he anxiously waited for you to answer.
You took a peek out the window cursing when you saw Jake standing there. Your face looked even worse than yesterday but there wasn’t enough time to try and hide it.
Sighing you opted to just open the door.
“Jesus Christ Y/N.” Jake frowned examining your black eye and bruised nose.
You smiled softly, “You should see the other guy.”
He grumbled not taking his eyes off your broken face, “Not really a time for jokes Y/N.”
“It’s always time for joking Jake.” You countered knowing it’d drive him mad. Something you enjoyed doing all too much as of late. The simple back and forth the two of you had grown accustomed to gave you so much joy throughout your stay in San Diego.
“Are you okay?” He pushed you back out of the doorway with his own body, inviting himself right on in.
“What are you doing here?” You asked after moving out of his way, not protesting in the slightest.
“I’m checking in.” He gave you the most obvious look, as if it was clear what he was doing here, “Penny told me what happened.”
“That little snake.”
“Well to be fair she just said you were sick. I kind of just assumed after seeing you a few days ago.” He frowned again grabbing some more ice from the freezer for you, “You need to keep ice on it.”
“Okay.” You simply nodded taking the ice pack from him gingerly knowing he was entirely right.
“What? No witty remark? No comeback?”
You giggled for the first time in a while. Feeling lighter and freer with the man standing in front of you. Having an odd sense of trust in him, “No. I don’t argue everything Jake.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” He smiled before guiding you to the couch wanting you to sit down.
Obliging you took a seat at one end, “Pot calling the kettle black.”
He laughed taking a seat at the opposite end, giving you some needed space, “But seriously, are you alright.”
You nodded, “I’m fine. Just need to change my locks and then I’m good.”
“You said that last time.” He deadpanned.
“I was being serious earlier. He took a cast iron pan to the forehead, multiple times. I think he’ll think twice.” You smiled remembering your victory over the weak man.
He looked you over while he nodded, somewhat impressed, “Can’t be too careful though.” He studied you yet again not being able to hide his upset expression. He really couldn’t believe that somebody would ever dare lay a hand on you let alone leave such a mark on your eye. He might’ve only known you for a brief time, but he felt protective over you. So oddly protective.
You shrugged, “I’ll sleep with my pan at night.”
He laughed taking you in. He was fully enamored with you now. How you could make such light out of the seriousness of the situation and manage to calm him down was something magical. Truly unlike anyone he’d ever met, “That’s a start. I’ll tell you what. I have the day off tomorrow, why don’t I help you change those locks then?”
You smiled nodding at him, “I’ll happily take some help.”
“Great.” He smiled, “10 AM work?”
You nodded feeling a burst of excitement at the prospect of Jake helping you out, “Works great.”
“Perfect, see you then. Gotta get back to the bar though, just wanted to check in. Have to go beat Rooster’s ass in a round of darks”
Nodding you didn’t stop the smile that come over you, “See you tomorrow Jake.”
“Goodnight Y/N.”
“Night.”
Five
Another busy night at the Hard Deck had you focusing on everything but watching the front door. After changing your locks your ex didn’t attempt anything, thankfully. You thought he had gotten the hint. Being terribly nervous about the whole situation had you on edge, head on a swivel at all times.
Your heart dropped when you heard that voice from behind you, sitting at the bar as if nothing had happened between the two of you, “Baby, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”
Gulping you refused to turn around instead searching for Penny. But just as you looked up you saw her run off to the back. Sighing you opted to simply keep serving the guests on the opposite side of the bar instead of confronting him. You had the advantage of the bar being particularly busy this night.
“Y/N.” You heard your name called sharply from behind you.
“I’m busy.” You shouted still refusing to turn around moving on to the next customer.
He wouldn’t take no for an answer though. He simply just moved around the bar, dodging, and weaving in between everyone making sure he was in your line of sight. When you saw what he was doing you simply turned around to serve the other side of the bar. Simply not in the mood to indulge in whatever fantasy this dude has. You were prepared to avoid as long as needed.
“Y/N.” There it was again. That damn voice. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why he was not taking the hint.
“I said, I’m busy.” You snapped back focusing on washing the racks of dirty beer glasses in front of you
“You’re not getting rid of me like this, Y/N. We need to talk about this!”
Rolling your eyes, you kept moving down the bar, strategically avoiding him. The gull on the piece of shit was baffling to you. He was the one that cheated on you. You were pretty damn sure that wasn’t the first time either.
What you also didn’t notice was how Jake was observing you every now and then. Often doing so, he wanted to make sure that you were okay. He caught flack from his fellow aviators for treating you so differently, they didn’t have a clue though. Not a damn clue.
He noticed your relaxed and easy going attitude change drastically throughout the night. You were usually so cheery and happy to talk to people. Tonight, you looked agitated and a little stressed out. For the life of him Jake couldn’t pinpoint what was causing you to feel so distressed.
He didn’t want to bother you when you were so busy, so he hung back for a while. As soon as it began to die down though he found a barstool and waited patiently until you noticed him.
The utter relief you felt when you spotted Jake sitting there was unlike any other. Your ex was still at it getting rather agitated at you dodging him for the last two hours. Relaxing just a little when you spotted him you quickly walked over to where he was sitting, “Jake. What can I get for you?”
“The usual.” He grinned leaning towards you.
“Sure thing.” You returned his smile with a half-hearted one of your own.
“Are you okay?” He asked as you returned with his beer.
Nodding your head you leaned into the counter, “You ask that a lot.”
“You seem to get yourself into very precarious situations.”
Laughing at his comment you realized he didn’t know the half of it. He couldn’t understand because you refused to tell him, “I do, don’t I?”
“Yes ma’am. Now answer the question.” His eyes darkened over slightly letting you know he wasn’t playing around.
You shrugged, “I have a small issue.”
Eyebrows raised he was a little taken aback you were actually going to tell him something. Not that he didn’t enjoy the banter between the two of you, but this was different, more serious, “And what’s that?”
“Don’t look. But my ex is sitting on the opposite side of the bar right now. He’s been following me around all night.” Sighing you leaned in even closer, “I’m so sorry. He’s probably going to confront you now that I’ve been talking to you for more than a minute.”
Jake returned your shrug almost getting a kick out of it, “I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you right now. Which one is he?”
Smiling softly at his bluntness you continued, “Red hoodie almost right behind me.”
The moment he spotted him Jake’s eyes darkened a few shades. His cheery smile with the dimples was immediately replaced with a straight line running across his face. If you didn’t know any better of him that look would have absolutely petrified you.
“Just keep your eyes on me Y/N.” Jake spoke quietly as he watched your ex eye you as you served customers.
Nodding softly, you kept your eyes trained near Jake not daring to serve that side of the bar. Another bartender noticed and kept that side locked down, “Thanks Jake.”
“Nothing to thank me for Y/N.” He gave you a serious look to let you know he wasn’t kidding. Jake could never accept a thank you for doing what he was raised to do, protect women. You couldn’t grow up in Texas and not think the world of all women. It always baffled Jake that other men didn’t think the same. That other men could even think of harming a woman.
Jake eventually caught the eye of your ex. He threw in a smirk for good measure. Jake made sure to look back to you to piss him off. And it worked. Almost instantly Jake noticed his red hoodie begin to walk around the bar. He knew this was going to be too good now.
“You fucking my girl?”
Jake grinned, loving every second of this, “Don’t think she’s your girl anymore.”
“Yes she is.” His nostrils flared in an attempt to intimidate Jake, you knew that wasn’t going to happen though.
Shaking his head casually Jake stood from his bar stool finally getting a good look at him. You knew Jake was taller than him, but you didn’t realize just how much. Taking a defensive stance, he eyed the man up and down cracking a smile when he met his eyes again, “Not according to Y/N, you’re not.”
“And you believe the little bitch?” He puffed his chest out not backing down from Jake. You had to hand it to the stupid man, he sure didn’t know when to call it quits.
Jake slowly shook his head, “I reckon you apologize to her.”
He laughed, a full on belly laugh. Getting a kick out of that one. You couldn’t rip your eyes from the scene unfolding before you, neither could the other aviators who had grown quiet observing the interaction between the two men. It was still busy enough that nobody paid them any mind, yet.
“For what?”
Jake didn’t break his stare down on the coward, “You know what for.”
He smirked somehow feeling like he had the upper hand in this argument, “I’m just putting my girl back in her place. Mind your own damn business.”
Realizing this was likely going to escalate you waved down Penny to try and figure out what to do. She waved you off letting you know that it was okay. She didn’t mind a fight in her bar.
“No, see I have a problem with that. Where I’m from a man never lays a hand on a woman.” Jake spoke as coolly as you’ve ever seen him. You just knew you were about to witness some shit go down.
He laughed, “And where I’m from she’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”
Eyes widening at that you actually felt fear from the man for the first time. Had he manipulated you that bad in the relationship that you couldn’t see what a true monster he was? Sure, it was only a few months but at one point you genuinely liked the guy. Now he was sitting here threating to hurt you even further.
Jake saw your fear in his peripherals. He took a step back towards you letting you know that he’s got you covered. He wouldn’t let this so called man hurt you again.
“Touch her again and you’ll understand just how nice we treat men like you.”
“I will do whatever the fuck I want to do to her. She’s mine.”
Your skin was crawling now, breaking out into chills all throughout your body. You definitely had to have missed some big red flags in the relationship.
The other aviators noticed the altercation wasn’t dying down but firing up. You noticed the one that helped him drag the unconscious man out of the bar last week was slowly making his way over to Jake.
“That’s just not going to happen.”
He then placed his pointer finger on Jakes chest, “Like I said. You don’t tell me what the fuck I can do.”
“You have 2 seconds to remove your hand.” He glared coldly.
“One.” Payback spoke up stepping closer to the scene crossing his arms over his chest. Having Jake’s back, “Two.”
Your stupid ex didn’t have a clue apparently because he smugly stood there. How he could be so cocky was beyond you, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jake spoke. Catching a faint grin, he cocked his head to the side giving him one last chance to step back.
“What are you going to do?”
Jake sighed, “This.”
With his left hand he quickly grabbed his finger bending it back until he head the snap. Your ex wailed in pain at the broken finger. That wasn’t enough for Jake though. He knew he needed to really drive this lesson home for him.
So, as he was crying in pain Jake took his right arm and punched him right under the chin sending him to the floor instantly.
For the second time in a few days another patron was knocked unconscious. Penny sighed while shaking her head opting not to worry about it. Letting the two aviators handle it.
Payback snickered, “You did warn him.”
Jake nodded, “I did. Many times.”
“Damn.” You grinned, “That was one hell of a punch.”
Jake spun on his heels smiling from ear to ear, “I took notes from the best.”
He studied you again noticing just how much more relaxed your demeanor had become when he wasn’t a direct threat anymore, “Let me see your phone.” He demanded more than asked as he walked back closer to the bar.
“What for?” You asked while handing it to him.
“If that motherfucker even looks at you weird again, you call me. Okay?” He quickly added his name to your contacts before handing it back to you.
“Okay. Thank you Jake. Really, thank you.” You leaned over the counter taking it back from him. Pausing when you realized just how close your faces were together.
“Anytime. And if you just want to talk or hang out you can call me too.”
“Really?” Your smile grew at his statement.
Nodding his head he scanned your face again, “Please do. I’m looking forward to it.” He winked before pulling back away from you.
You watched, a little speechless, as the two aviators dragged your good for nothing ex out of the bar and hopefully far away from your life.
#jake seresin#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin x reader#top gun hangman#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#hangman#hangman fluff#jake hangman seresin#hangman x y/n#hangman seresin#top gun maverick hangman#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun imagine#top gun#top gun masterlist
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Hangman is Donald Duck REAL. (lol)
Ao3 post
A gift for @barnes_brain (ao3)!
#hangster#top gun happily ever after#hangman lil trash man#hangman x rooster#top gun maverick hangman#hangman seresin#hangman top gun#rooster bradshaw#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun movie#top gun maverick#fan art#top gun#drawing#fanart#top gun: maverick#tgm
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Loverboy
jake "hangman" seresin x fem!reader
"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."
[1.1k] | incredibly lovesick jake seresin alert, idk what this is im not even sober, am i ever not drunk, anyway alcohol consumption, javy's bromance w/ jake, just fluff actually he's so cute i'm forever gonna stick up for the loverboy jake agenda
reblog and/or like for a kiss, feedback much appreciated! not proofread.
With his back against the outer wall of the bar, Jake couldn't contain the smile on his lips while tapping away on his phone to find your name.
He had no idea how and when it happened exactly, this excruciating amount of pull that you had on him— which had him twirling his imaginary long hair and kicking his feet often after any moment spent with you or as a very natural response to a very casual text you sent, when nobody was around to see.
He was happy to be living up to the nickname you gave him long ago, when that too-good-to-be-true exterior cracked and cracked until he finally revealed his true nature; a loverboy.
Your line dialed for the fifth time as he held his phone up to his ear, the music still pretty much hearable even through the wall. Javy was inside waiting for him, and honestly was quite surprised that Jake would down the rest of his second drink and walk out right away because "I gotta tell my girl about this, she's gonna laugh so hard" but it was the new normal for a long while now, wasn't it?
You finally picked up, a bit later than usual since you said that you'd just be at home— catching up with work and stuff which Jake didn't really listen to the details of, and you couldn't exactly blame him for that. "Hello?"
"Hey, babe." his giddy tone could be felt through the line. "Jus' wanted to check up on you. What are you doing?"
"Ah," you chuckled. "Still working, honey. Same as you left me."
All you could hear was a hum of understanding before he released a deep sigh, leaning further on the wall. "Wish you were here with me, honestly. Javy's such a fucking idiot— can't wait to tell you all 'bout it."
"Jakey, just have fun for me," your whine brought out a lovesick smile on his lips. "You can't call me every fifteen minutes and actually expect to enjoy your night out."
"But I enjoy things a lot more when you're doing it with me."
"Machado's gonna hate me if you keep this shit up, y'know that?" he recognized your teasing tone immediately, huffing out a snicker. "He's still hurt that you wouldn't spend 'Bromance Day' with him."
"Well, his 'Bromance Day' just so happened to be February fourteenth, he should've managed his expectations. I was free on the thirteenth. Not the fifteenth because my girlfriend is an insatiable little—"
"Hey, shut it," you laughed, and he knew you well enough to know that you were shaking your head now, even if he couldn't see. "You should stop grumbling about one of the few people that actually endures your annoying ass, work on your time management and get back to the bar, alright?"
"Right," he took a deep breath again, not even aware that he was holding it— perhaps he was afraid of missing even the tiniest details of your voice, unhappy with the lack of justice the static of the line did to it. "I'm gonna wreck that dart board for you, baby."
When Jake came back home that night, a little bit later than he said he would, but in his defense, you did tell him to have fun. Probably reeking of alcohol and sweat, he figured in his tipsy state that you must be asleep by now, and made sure to be extra quiet while shuffling out of his jacket and setting his keys down by the shoe rack. He tiptoed his way over to the bathroom then, and ran himself a cold shower— mostly to get rid of the scent, and to perhaps go to bed with a clearer head but he was sloppy nonetheless, and a shower without singing wasn't really a good shower.
He still sang some of his favorite songs very quietly though.
But when he walked into your shared room with a warm robe around his body, he didn't expect you to… not be there. It was late. You sure would've left what you were doing to run to his side the second he came back if you were awake, right?
Looking around the room in confusion as if you'd magically appear from behind the curtain and scare him shitless, he took a sharp breath and walked towards the small study you had— a comfortable, quiet space to work on stuff or to just think, and his prediction proved itself to be right because you were right there, arms crossed on top of the desk with your head resting on them, eyes closed, computer still open with whatever you were busy with doing on the screen.
God, he was smiling like an idiot.
"My busy bee…" he whispered to himself, before carefully approaching your desk— making sure to save all your work before putting the computer on sleep mode just in case. With one arm leaning against the desk, he then looked down at your sleeping figure, looking so content despite the awkward position— and he couldn't help the quiet chuckle that left his lips. "Should I wake you or potentially startle you while trying to carry you to bed?"
You didn't even stir.
"You're gonna be the death of me one day." he complained, but tried out a couple of different arm positions that he could potentially use to carry you— with no luck. That's when you finally let out a yawn though, mumbling out his name before slowly pushing yourself off the desk. "I'm sorry— I couldn't figure out how to pick you up. It's easier when you're on the couch—" but then you just wrapped your arms around his neck, getting in a better position for him to pick you up.
Too sleepy to do anything else. Jake felt his heart doing Olympic backflips.
With a secure grip by your waist and the back of your knees, he carefully picked you up from where you were seated, smiling to himself when he felt your lips by his neck, and then a tired murmur. "M'sorry. Wanted to stay awake for you but— work's boring."
He chuckled at that, a soft noise that brought a smile to your lips when your back finally met the cold mattress. "You should've just gone to bed, sweetheart. Your back will kill you if you keep that up."
"It's fine," you replied, only then opening your eyes to see him sitting by the edge of the bed, his warm palm covering your knee with a compassionate smile on his lips. "Bed's cold. You gotta warm me up or else I might actually die—"
"God, such a baby," his tease was followed by a chuckle as he slightly pushed you over to get to his side, quickly wrapping the both of you with a blanket before undoing the belt of his robe, just so the knot wouldn't bother you when he pulled you closer to his chest. "Go right back to sleep, honey. I got you."
And you were content on doing exactly what he told you to do, except, he didn't do the same— but instead, decided to take a good look at your serene expression and sigh to himself, nothing but whispers leaving his lips as he admired you. "I love you so bad, it's not even funny anymore."
a/n: guess which songs jake were singing in the shower. my playlist is very dry lately and im going to steal your guesses shamelessly and then remember you fondly 3 years later when i stumble upon that song again and then we're gonna fall in love and—
#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake 'hangman' seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake 'hangman' seresin x reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick hangman#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin x you
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Less Talk | Part VI
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.
CW: swearing, pining, drinking as a coping mechanism, unresolved sexual tension, slow af burn
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Masterlist
Jake pulls up to your house and turns to look at you. “You sure you want to stay here tonight?”
You stare at the empty driveway with a heavy sigh. “There’s no way he’s coming back,” you assure him.
Jake kills the engine. “I could stay, just in case.”
You smile to yourself and then glance up at him with a slight quirk to your eyebrow. “Why’re you being nice?”
Jake makes a face and scoffs uncomfortably. “I’m being practical,” he responds defensively, as though you’ve offended him. He steps out of the truck and walks around to help you down.
You avoid his gaze as you take his hand, muttering a quick thanks after he shuts your door. He nods in response and then falls in step with you as you head toward your front door. “You really didn’t have to walk me,” you say.
“Force of habit,” Jake responds flatly.
You glance at him with a grin. “With all the moonlit rides you’ve been handing out?”
Jake smirks and shakes his head, eyeing you in the sort of way that might be misconstrued as affectionate by an ill-informed bystander. He clears his throat as you walk up the steps of your porch, staying back with his hands in his pockets. “You coming to Rooster’s party next weekend?” he asks.
You turn to look at him after sticking your key into the lock. “Bradley’s having a party?”
Jake furrows his eyebrows, as though he’s surprised that this is news to you. “He didn’t tell you?”
You shrug. “Maybe it’s just for his aviator friends,” you respond, leaning into the door to open it.
“You’re invited, trust me,” Jake says.
You narrow your eyes at him, flicking on the light and pulling off your heels. “Maybe double check with him just in case. I don’t want to just show up.”
Jake sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask.”
You let out a groan once your shoes are off, curling your toes in and rotating your ankles. “Thanks for the ride, Seresin,” you say.
Jake gives you a tight smile. “Have a good night, Y/N.”
…
Jake comes home to find Bradley on the couch watching Family Guy reruns. The moment Jake walks through the door, Bradley lifts the remote and mutes the TV, glancing up at Jake with a smug smirk. “Honey, you’re home,” he says, in response to which Jake nearly throws his keys at him.
Instead, Jake removes his shoes in silence and drops his keys and wallet onto the coffee table. Then, he goes straight for the fan in the far corner and aggressively plugs it in. “This is stupid,” he mutters under his breath. “I shouldn’t have to plug it in every time I want to use it.”
Bradley nods when Jake turns back around. “I agree,” he responds. “Huge inconvenience. To think you have to perform an extra arm movement to reach the plug when you’re already up to turn on the fan.” He shakes his head. “Frankly, it’s just an unrealistic expectation.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Of course, you’d take her side.”
Bradley laughs. “I’m not taking sides! I didn’t realize there were sides.”
“There are always sides, Rooster,” Jake says firmly, plopping down into an armchair.
Bradley leans forward on the couch, resting his forearms on his knees. “So, speaking of sides, are we going to talk about how you beat the shit out of Y/N’s boyfriend?”
Jake grimaces. “He’s not her boyfriend anymore.”
Bradley raises his eyebrows, staring at Jake. He lifts a hand and drags in slowly over the bottom part of his face, apparently lost for words. Finally, he slumps back into the couch and says, “Dude.”
Jake nods, staring at the floor. “Yeah,” he responds.
After another several seconds of silence, Bradley adds, “Shit.”
To which Jake replies, “Yeah.”
Finally, Bradley rises from the couch and heads out of the living room, only to return a minute later with two tall cans of beer. He hands one to Jake who grunts in appreciation. Bradley opens his can and takes a large gulp before sitting back down on the couch. He glances at the TV, the show still on in the background on mute, and turns it off. “Well,” he says, setting his can down onto the coffee table. “You’re going to have to tell me the rest.”
Jake slides a coaster toward Bradley before he speaks. “Nothing to tell,” he says. “She needed a ride, I gave her one. Mentioned that she broke up with him at some point. That was it.”
“That was it?” Bradley asks, unconvinced.
Jake glares up at him. “What were you expecting?”
Bradley makes a face. “I don’t know.”
Jake lets out a sigh and guzzles a quarter of his can. “She hates my truck,” he says.
Bradley nods, unsurprised. “To be expected.”
“She thinks it’s ‘rough around the edges’,” he says, imitating your intonation. Bradley hooks an eyebrow, but Jake continues. “And too high off the ground.”
“Huh,” Bradley responds. “Actually, she’s not –”
“And it doesn’t have a key fob which apparently makes me sexist or something –”
“What?”
“Did you know that he wouldn’t even let her lean on his fucking car?” Jake says angrily, taking another swig of beer.
Bradley watches him with mild confusion. “Why would that random piece of information ever come up in casual conversation?”
Jake exhales sharply. “Keep up, Bradshaw. We were watching the meteor shower and –”
“The meteor shower!” Bradley exclaims with a laugh. “Smooth.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “Then one thing led to another –”
“Love it when that happens –”
Jake lets out an irritable sigh. “Are you gonna let me talk?”
Bradley chuckles. “I thought there was nothing to tell.”
Jake watches him stonily. “She ended up on the hood of my truck.”
Bradley narrows his eyes. “How did she get up there, I wonder?”
“I fucking put her there, Bradshaw!” Jake says in exasperation.
Bradley nods slowly. “As one does…”
Jake snorts with a bit of a smirk and shakes his head. “You’re the fucking worst.”
Bradley grins happily. “This calls for another beer,” he says, getting up again.
“Bradshaw,” Jake says before Bradley disappears down the hallway. “You’re having a party next weekend.”
“I am?” Bradley halts mid step.
“Yeah, you should invite some people.”
Bradley purses his lips. “Okay…”
“Don’t forget to invite Y/N. I think she might be kind of upset that you haven’t mentioned it to her,” Jake says, glancing up at his friend.
“Upset that I didn’t mention a party I had no idea I was throwing?” Bradley asks with a knowing smile.
Jake shrugs, avoiding Bradley’s scrutinizing gaze. “You know how she gets. She’s so weird.”
“Yeah,” Bradley responds. “Really fucking weird.”
…
Three days later, Jake is more or less itching for the weekend. Gone are the days when he could successfully stifle the highlight reel of times he’s spent in your presence. A heated glance here, an unintentional touch there, and, most recently, an entire evening spent cuddling with you under the stars. Jake Seresin does not cuddle. And, when he does, it is always with an ulterior motive. Now, he’s not going to pretend that such a motive doesn’t exist where you are concerned, but somehow, with you, the act of cuddling felt fulfilling all on its own. And obviously this revelation makes him extremely agitated.
He slams his locker shut absently, tuning out the majority of conversation around him, when his phone rings. He digs into his pocket and glares at the unknown number impatiently before shoving it back into his pocket. A minute later, his phone rings again. He picks it up with a scowl as he exits the locker room and brings it to his ear.
“Hello?” he hears your voice on the other end. “Jake?”
He scrunches up his eyebrows. “Y/N?”
“Yeah,” you respond. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” he says, making his way out into the parking lot. “Did you know that the last time somebody called me on the telephone was in ’98 when my buddy, Bernard, tried to cheat me out of my holographic Pikachu card?”
There’s a brief pause before you respond with, “What?”
“How’d you get this number?” Jake asks, getting into his truck.
“Yellow pages,” you reply flatly.
Jake chuckles. “So, Rooster’s just handing it out now.”
“He’s selling it, actually,” you say cheerily. “Expect about a dozen calls from the IRS threatening to freeze your assets if you don’t send them a money order.”
Jake snorts. “You need something, princess?”
Another pause. “Don’t call me that.”
“You don’t like it?”
He hears a blast of static when you let out a heavy sigh. “I lost an earring. I’m really hoping it’s somewhere in your truck.”
“I’ll take a look around,” he says, leaning over the console to check under the passenger seat.
“Thanks,” you respond. “So, I take it you want me to just text next time?”
Jake raises his eyebrows as he lifts his head. “Next time?”
The silence on your end makes him smile.
“Go ahead and call,” he says when you don’t respond. “Turns out I don’t mind it.”
You laugh. “It’s my sweet voice, isn’t it?”
Jake purses his lips and nods. “It’s definitely less annoying when it isn’t accompanied by your swinging arms.”
“At least my swinging arms don’t end up in other people’s faces.”
Jake chuckles, plucking a teardrop earring out from the gap under the back of the passenger seat. “Guess what I found?” he says.
“Is it my earring?” you reply excitedly.
Jake rolls his eyes. “No, it’s my aunt Judy,” he responds. “Of course, it’s your earring, you big dork.”
He hears you giggle through the phone and smiles. “I think I prefer princess.”
“Too late,” Jake responds. He drops the earring into his cup holder. “Want me to bring it over?”
“Uh,” you hesitate briefly as he pulls out of his parking spot. “You know what? It’s okay, I’ll just get it from you this weekend.”
“I’m already on my way,” he says, although he hasn’t even reached the main road.
“I’m not home!” you say quickly. “Just – don’t waste your time, Jake. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Alright,” he responds. “Are you okay?”
“Of course, I’m okay,” you say indignantly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Fine,” he says. “Later.”
“Later,” he hears you mutter, but your voice is already distant, as though you’ve removed the phone from your ear.
Jake exhales slowly and then pushes down a little harder on the gas.
…
When he pulls up to your house – because, naturally, he decides to completely disregard your request to wait until the weekend – he sees the white mustang in your driveway. He’s out of his truck and jogging up to your front door in a matter of seconds. He hops over the steps right onto the porch and starts knocking.
It’s a solid minute before he hears a click and he’s almost resolved to find another way in when you open the door.
You blink at him in confusion. “What are you doing here?”
Jake exhales irritably. “What are you doing here?” he asks. “I thought you weren’t home.”
You roll your eyes. “I’m busy right now,” you say, starting to close the door.
Jake slams his palm into the door before you can shut it. “Yeah,” he responds. “I bet.” He looks over your shoulder into the front hall. “Where is he?”
You sigh in exasperation. “Seresin, can I help you?” you snap.
He glances back at you impatiently. “Thought you broke up with him,” he says gruffly.
You lower your gaze. “It’s not that simple.”
Jake takes a step forward, putting himself right over the threshold, and you glance up at him warily. But Jake is looking at the man coming up behind you.
“What’s he doing here?” Mustang asks aggressively.
Jake gives him a flat look. “Nice shiner, son.”
Mustang starts for Jake but you step into the open doorway, your body pressing into Jake’s as the latter tries to push his way inside. Jake feels your hand flatten against his abdomen and, to his great dismay, he folds instantly at your touch, retreating despite his desire to have to out with Mustang once and for all.
“He’s just dropping something off for me,” you say quickly, holding your hand out to him while he stares at you blankly, still trying to recuperate. “My earring?” you remind him.
Jake gives you a sheepish look, realizing that he left it in his truck.
“Why does he have your earring?” Mustang asks suspiciously.
“I’ll go grab it,” Jake says, turning to head back, his mind still hazy.
“I’ll go with you,” he hears you say.
Jake glances over his shoulder as you join him on the porch. His eyes follow you as you skip down the steps ahead of him and walk briskly toward his truck. He follows you moodily, meeting your gaze when he reaches for the doorhandle. “Why’s he here?” he asks.
You fold your arms over your chest, your lips pressed into a tight line. “Why the fuck do you care?”
Jake shakes his head with a contemptuous laugh. “I don’t fucking care,” he says, reaching into his truck to get the earring out of his cupholder. He straightens his back and presents the teardrop with a stony expression. You hold out your hand and he places the earring into your palm, letting his fingers linger just a split-second longer than he probably should before grazing them along your skin and finally letting his arm fall back to his side.
You furrow your eyebrows and close your hand around the earring. “It was my grandmother’s,” you say quietly.
Jake purses his lips, ignoring the weight saddling his heart. “Suits you,” he says, his voice a little rough.
You blink up at him with a bit of a smile. “He just stopped by,” you say. “I had no idea he was coming. I saw him pull up while we were talking.”
Jake narrows his eyes. “And you didn’t send that asshole packing?”
Your mouth curls into a slightly restrained, sideways smile. “He’s not an asshole.”
Jake fixes you with the most skeptical expression he could muster.
“Anyway,” you continue with a wave of your hand. “He’s trying.”
Jake leans into the side of his truck, watching you with slightly narrowed eyes. He can’t imagine why you’d even entertain the idea of letting that idiot back into your life but, ultimately, this kind of thing is none of his business and he’s not entirely sure why he’s making it just that. “Effort is good,” he says. “You deserve that.”
You look down at your feet and Jake glances at Mustang’s form in the doorway. “See you Saturday, Jake,” you say.
He nods. “Call me if you need me.”
…
Bradley greets you at the door when you arrive. Jake sets down his beer and moves unhurriedly in your direction, noticing with relief that Mustang isn’t with you.
“How are you?” he asks once Bradley steps out of the way. Bradley claps Jake on the back as he retreats and Jake throws him an annoyed glance.
“Good,” you respond, unzipping your hoodie to reveal a crop top underneath. “You?”
“Decent,” he responds, holding out his hand to take your hoodie.
Instead of handing it over, however, you hook your arm through his and tug him forward. “Where’s the alcohol, Seresin?” you ask.
Jake smirks, allowing you to lead him through the living room toward the corridor. He ignores Bradley’s stupid grin and wiggling eyebrows as the two of you pass the other guests and make your way into the kitchen. “What are you in the mood for?” Jake asks, opening the refrigerator.
You walk around to peer under his arm. “Got anything harder?” you ask casually.
Jake stares at the assortment of beers and coolers lining the shelves, seized by a cold sweat as he considers the various hard things he could offer you. He lets out a sigh, shaking off the brief stupor your question’s triggered, and looks down at you with a small smile. He closes the refrigerator slowly. “Whiskey?” he asks, nodding toward the liquor cabinet in the dining room. “Or vodka?” he knocks a couple of times on the freezer door with his knuckle.
“Let’s go with vodka,” you say, finally stepping away.
Jake watches you turn on the spot, examining the snack-filled bowls on the counters as he reaches into the freezer to pull out a bottle of Smirnoff. He tries his best to refrain from dwelling on how cute you look in your faded, extremely flared jeans as he pulls two shot glasses out of the cupboard. “What’re we drinking to?” he asks, setting the glasses down on the counter.
You glance up at him pointedly. “You mean, what’re we drinking to forget?”
Jake purses his lips and pours. “You’re the boss.”
You grimace, plucking up your shot glass. “Since when?”
He lifts his own glass and clinks it with yours. “Since I’ve realized how much easier it is to just agree with you on everything.”
You frown. “Am I so hard to be around?”
There’s that word again. “Would you rather be easy?” Jake asks.
You shrug. “Well, I don’t want to be aggravating.”
Jake raises his eyebrows. “Could’ve fooled me.”
You give him a flat look. “Okay, pot,” you retort.
Jake snorts. “Can we drink now?”
“Cheers,” you say. “To being less aggravating.”
“That would require an awful lot of silence,” he notes.
You roll your eyes. “To talking less.”
Jake catches your gaze as you bring the glass to your lips. The extent to which you’re going to follow through on this particular endeavor is entirely inconsequential since he seems absurdly drawn to you whether you’re talking or not. You throw back your shot and Jake releases a breath before following suit.
You slam your glass down onto the counter with a cringe. “We need something to chase it!” you cry, bouncing slightly on the spot.
Jake reaches for the fridge and quickly pulls out a jug of orange juice, twisting off the top and handing it over to you. You grasp it quickly and chug right from the bottle as Jake laughs. After a few gulps, you hold the juice out to Jake. “Thanks,” he says, taking a swig.
He screws the top back on, but you say, “Leave it out.”
Jake narrows his eyes and sets the jug down onto the counter. “So, how many of these is it going to take before you tell me what’s up?” he asks, pouring another round.
You take a deep breath but don’t respond.
Jake hands you the glass, studying you carefully. “I take it back,” he says. “Less talk is more aggravating.”
You glance up at him with a small laugh and he stuffs his hand into his pocket to keep it from tucking a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “So, I just aggravate you no matter what I do,” you say humorously.
Jake tries to hold back a grin. He’d probably find you a lot less aggravating if you were standing just a little bit closer. “I wouldn’t worry about it, princess,” he says.
You blink at him accusingly. “What did I say about calling me that?”
Jake smirks. “You said you preferred it to ‘dork’.”
You roll your eyes. “Must it be either?”
“Uh, Y/N?” Bradley pokes his head into the kitchen uncertainly.
You turn to glance in his direction, looking slightly unprepared for an interruption. “Yeah?”
Jake glances over his shoulder to see Bradley standing at the entrance to the kitchen with a troubled look on his face. “Is there something you want to talk about?” he asks pointedly.
Jake turns back to see you licking your lips uncomfortably.
“I just got off the phone with –” Bradley starts, but you cut him off.
“Yeah,” you say. “I know.”
Jake narrows his eyes, glancing between you and Bradley suspiciously.
“I’m figuring it out,” you say, an edge to your voice.
Bradley keeps looking at you as though he’s expecting more.
But you don’t submit to the scrutiny. “Cheers, Jake,” you say, knocking your shot glass into his with enough force to splash some of the vodka over his hand.
“Cheers, princess,” he mutters as you down your glass.
You squirm at the burn but don’t bother with the juice. Not a moment later, he feels your hand close around his. “Come on, Seresin,” you say. “It’s my favorite song.”
You pull him after you out of the kitchen and Jake has but a second to lock eyes with Bradley, who’s still wearing the same concerned expression with which he arrived. Then, the two of you blow past him back into the living room, joining the dancing crowd in the middle of the room just as your favorite song comes to an end. You drop Jake’s hand as the crowd begins to thin, glancing awkwardly at the speakers when the first notes of a cheesy ballad ring out.
Jake furrows his brows, perceiving your obvious agitation, and holds out his hand to you. You glance up at him sharply without a hint of a smile. In fact, you’re wearing a glowering scowl. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you caution.
“Yeah, I got that,” Jake responds.
You gulp before hesitantly placing your hand in his. He closes his fingers around yours and takes a step forward, stealing a moment to appreciate that being this close to you invigorates every one of his senses. He puts his other hand around your back, feeling the sliver of skin between the hem of your top and the waistband of your jeans. He gives your hand a small squeeze in an effort to keep from gripping into your flesh.
You lower your head as he pulls you a touch closer, which Jake takes as a sign that you might be feeling something you prefer to ignore. He can certainly relate to that sentiment. “Nice earrings,” he says, starting to move slowly to the music.
Your hand goes up to feel the teardrop hanging from your earlobe. You flash him a brief grin before looking away.
Jake holds back a smile; completely taken with the way you can’t seem to look him in the eye. You rest your hand over his chest and he nearly blacks out. He wonders if you can feel his racing heart, accelerating under the palm of your hand. He stoops slightly, intoxicated by the smell of your hair. He doesn’t even care that half his squad is watching him dissolve at your every touch. He hardly gives a damn that Bradley is amongst the spectators, looking on as Jake drowns blissfully in your eyes when you finally look up.
“Thanks, Jake,” you say softly.
Jake watches you patiently, stilling as the song slowly fades out. He’s still holding you, still looking into your eyes when the beat of the next track gets the other guests back up on their feet. He’s still grazing his fingertips along the small of your back, still clutching your hand in his. He’s still entranced.
And you aren’t moving away either. You aren’t averting your gaze or pulling your hand out of his grasp. And, in that moment, he forgets all about your perplexing reluctance to address whatever’s got you throwing back shot after shot – presumably the same mystery that’s so clearly distressing Bradley – because all he can think about is how he’s going to kiss you before the night is through.
And how you’re probably going to kiss him back.
Read Part 7
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#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#top gun#hangman#glen powell#hangman seresin#hangman x reader#hangman x you#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman fanfiction#hangman fluff#top gun maverick hangman#top gun maverick#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin series#hangman series#jake seresin fic#hangman angst#jake seresin fluff
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𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐓
Sunlight falls down from the azure sky like a relentless, yellow river. The California heat is pure and spiteful, enough to dot your hairline with sweat and make you occasionally fan yourself. It's new to you. But the heat is good, though--you're going to soak in all the warmth you can before you have to go back to your cavernous house, the one with the unpacked boxes and uncomfortably immaculate tile floors.
Moving houses is always the worst part for you. Not even the packing and unpacking and organizing and grocery shopping, but how stale everything feels. Rooms that are bare. Walls that are empty. Windows that are fingerprint-free. Cabinets without crumbs. Rugs without teething toys and swaddles. Floors without mud.
Everything feels cold at the new house. And it will for a while--you know that now after having moved so many times in the past few years.
From where Jake is standing, just a bit closer to the water with your babbling son in his arms, he watches you. You're laid out on a beach towel, a new one with the tag still on it, and your eyes are closed as you sunbathe. For one of the first time since moving back to California--to Fighter Town, USA--you look restful. Peaceful.
"Look at mama," he says to your son, a smile tugging on his lips. He's bouncing where he stands, the sun beating down on his shoulders. "Isn't she pretty, huh?"
Your son babbles, little pink tongue poking out as he grins toothlessly at Jake, squinting at the sun. He adjusts his straw hat--the adorably small one that makes his heart squeeze every time--and presses a soft kiss to his feathery eyebrows.
"She looks so happy, doesn't she, baby? Doesn't she?" He asks, grinning. "Mama's what we call solar-powered."
Your sun grins back--an identical, squinty-eyed, wide grin. And when Jake laughs, your son echoes him.
"Twins," you whisper to yourself when the warm breeze carries the sound of your boys to you. And then you sigh contentedly, sinking further into the sand. "My boys."
"Oh, we're making her smile," Jake sing-songs. He tickles your son's belly and his laughter erupts from his wet lips like a sweet song. "Just look at that!"
"I can hear you!" You call, grinning.
Cupping your hand over your eyes, squinting to see Jake and your son. And there they are, watching you, grinning the same grin. Your tall, broad husband and your little, chubby baby. Your heart couldn't get any fuller if you tried it--you're certain of it.
"Oh, we've been caught!" Jake says, gasping. He looks at your son and your son looks at him, babbling and giggling and slobbering. "Quick! Distract her! Do something cute!"
At all the attention and enthusiasm from his father, your son dissolves in giggles. They're deep and hearty, straight from his belly.
"It worked," you call to them, tongue swollen with affection.
"Knew it would," he says back, high-fiving your sons curled hand. "We make a good team, bud."
Jake turns to look out at the water--the endless blue and the creamy foam. He's missed California, always finds himself dreaming about it. He glances at you again--your smooth skin, your slack face. He's glad that there is at least sunshine here. Enough to keep you warm.
He wonders, as your son reaches up to tug on Jake's sunglasses, if this is where your children will grow up. Will they dip their toes in the water after school? Will they go surfing with their friends on the weekends? Will they have an extensive seashell collection? Will there always be sand in the carpet? Will their hair be forever permeated with saltwater? Will their skin always be sun kissed and warm?
And you--will you adapt to California? Will you bask in the sun after dropping the kids off at school? Will you find all the good wine spots for date night? Will you wear flow dresses and always have bare feet? Will you keep sunscreen in your purse and always have a few pairs of sunglasses on your person at all times?
More than anything, in this single moment, Jake wants to stay for a while. No more moving--for himself, for your son, for you. Especially for you.
𓇼 𓇼 𓇼
There is sand everywhere: in your hair that is still damp with saltwater, wedged between your skin and the wet swimsuit you're still wearing, underneath Jake's fingernails, between your son's toes.
It squishes underneath your feet as you bounce softly, holding your son in your arms.
"Easy goes it," you whisper softly to your son, cradling his soft head as you ease his body--which is heavy with sleep--down onto the mattress of his crib. You know you're going to have to shake the sheets out once he wakes up--sand is still crumbling out of his hair. "Poor baby. Couldn't even make it through a bath, huh? Daddy tuckered you out with all that swimming, huh? Didn't he?"
The room is dark--blackout curtains are always the first thing Jake installs in the nursery--and cool, the sound machine int he corner lulling ocean sounds aloud.
Jake stands in the doorway, leaning up against the frame, still in just his swimming trunks. He watches you caress your son's pudgy cheek, watches you bend at the hips to kiss his face like you always do. His heart squeezes when he glances around the mostly-bare room. He thinks all the heat in this room, every bit of it, must be coming from you and your love.
For a long, long moment, you just watch your baby. You see so little of yourself in your own child, which you used to think would bother you. But you love Jake so much--an overwhelming, unmeasurable amount--that it only feels natural for that love to multiply in the form of a smaller version of him. And he's there, sleeping on his seashell-printed sheets, his lips parted as he drools.
"C'mon, mama," Jake whispers to you. "We've got a hot shower calling our names."
Stroking his soft hair, you inhale all the salt and sun on his skin. Your sweet, sweet boy with sand still in his hair and messing his sheets. Your heart swells at the simple notion of something being genuinely messy for the first time since moving.
"I'm coming," you whisper. "Just give me a minute."
#jake hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin top gun#jake seresin x you#hangman top gun#top gun hangman#hangman seresin x reader#hangman seresin#hangman x reader#hangman x you#hangman fluff#jake seresin fluff#jake hangman fic#jake hangman imagine#hangman imagine#top gun maverick hangman#hangman seresin x you#hangman seresin imagine#dad hangman seresin#dad Jake seresin
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Beach Day - Hangman
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Sersin / Wife!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: Referenced Sexual Innuedos/Situations; Three Named Seresin Kids; Wife!Reader is not Named, No Physical Description, No "You" or Y/N
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: Jake and his wife enjoy a beach day with their three kids.
Master List
With the spring heat settling over Miramar, the Seresin family made their way down to the beach. Jake had the day off and intended to spend the full day with his family. Especially because he was probably going to be sent on deployment at some point relatively soon.
The beach was mostly full of surfboarders and a few small groups, so the Seresin family had their pick of the patches of sand. And unsurprisingly, little JJ—Javier Jacob—Seresin, the eldest of the Seresin bunch, marched ahead of his parents, leading his way through the sand to a spot of his choice.
“Right here?” Jake asked JJ after he tossed his toys down on a patch of sand.
“Yeah,” JJ agreed, pointing at the sand. He tossed his toys on the ground, claiming the area for the Seresin family. JJ barely let his parents set down their bags and get his siblings in order before he turned to the waves. "Can we go to the water?”
“Not without me,” Jake stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Remember, you can’t go into the water without Mommy or Daddy.”
“And you need some sunscreen too,” Jake’s wife called, pulling out the sunscreen. “Come here, JJ.”
JJ pouted a bit, but he eventually trotted over to his mom, who was in the middle of applying sunblock to his little brother, Charlie, who was far less antsy than JJ to get to the water. Charlie was by far the most cautious of the Seresin siblings, taking after his mom more. JJ, on the other hand, dove into everything head first.
And that was why Jake wasn’t going to let him anywhere near the water without supervision.
Once Charlie and JJ had their sunblock on, Jake turned to his wife and held out the tub of sunscreen. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he turned around for her.
“Don’t be afraid to really get in there, Mrs. Seresin.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure I cover every inch, Mr. Seresin.”
And, well, Jake’s wife wasn’t going to complain about getting to touch her husband. Even if they had to be a bit subdued because of the publicity and children present. Three kids definitely took their toll on their own shared intimacy, so they managed to morph into horny teenagers whenever they could actually get their hands on each other.
Once she covered his back in a layer of sunscreen, Jake turned around for her to get his chest. He could have easily done it himself, but neither of the two of them were complaining. Locking eyes, Jake’s wife bit her lip to fight a smirk as she teased the patch of skin right above his swim trunks.
“Careful, Mrs. Seresin. There are little eyes around,” Jake replied, as if he wasn’t leaning into her touch. He leaned down and rested his forehead against her own. “But there won’t be later.”
“All set,” Jake’s wife stated, giving him a love pat on his ass. “You’re dismissed, boys.”
Jake snuck a kiss from his wife before bending down to help his two sons with their puddle jumpers. With both boys safe in their floatation gear, Jake scooped Charlie up and into his arms and took JJ by the hand to lead him down to the waves.
“Call if you need anything,” Jake replied, glancing over at the still sleeping baby.
“We’ll be fine. Have fun, babies!” Jake’s wife cooed to her sons. “Be good for Daddy!”
“We will!”
“Don’t feel obligated to follow your own advice,” Jake winked, earning a look from his wife.
“Shoo,” she laughed, waving her hand. “Go to the water. Or JJ’s going to run away from you.”
Jake headed down to the water while his wife took shelter in the shade of the small umbrella that Jake set up when they arrived. Baby Evelyn Seresin was peacefully sleeping in her carrier. Jake once remarked that Evelyn could sleep through just about anything and it looked like she was keeping up that streak. Settling into her chair, Jake’s wife turned to the water to watch her boys.
JJ was running around in the waves, giggling and screaming as he kicked at the water. Charlie was still on his dad’s hip, staring at the water with clear distrust. Jake was obviously trying to encourage him to touch the water, but he wasn’t successful. Reading her book for a bit, Jake’s wife suddenly looked up when her daughter stirred. She picked her daughter up and into her arms to settle her.
“I know, I know,” Jake’s wife cooed, patting her daughter’s back. “Come on, let’s go see your brothers and your dad, huh?”
Slowly getting up from her chair, Jake’s wife made her way down to the waves with her baby resting against her chest. Evelyn was only a few months old, but it took absolutely no time whatsoever for her to get the three Seresin boys completely and utterly wrapped around her dainty little finger.
“Hey, look who woke up,” Jake called when he spotted his girls. He leaned over to press a kiss to his wife’s lips and then his daughter’s head. “Want to go for a little dip, Evie?”
With practiced maneuvers, Jake took Evelyn while his wife took Charlie into her arms—the Daddy’s Girl and Mama’s Boy. Charlie happily clutched onto his mom, who he knew wouldn’t force him to touch the cold, dark waves. And Evie picked up her head just a bit to blink at her dad.
“Hi, Princess. How’re you feeling?” Jake cooed, rubbing her back.
While his wife turned to entertain JJ, Jake carefully squatted down as the waves trickled up again. He kept a solid grip on his daughter, but lowered her little feet down to the water. Evelyn let out a noise when the water brushed against her toes, but she didn’t cry or complain. And when she started to kick at the water, Jake couldn’t help but laugh.
“There you go, baby girl. Look at you! You’re going to be a swimmer, I know it,” Jake praised his daughter, pressing a set of kisses to her head.
When the sun drew higher in the sky and the beach started to grow full, the Seresin family made their way home for lunch and nap time. Working as a team, Jake and his wife got all three kids cleaned up, fed lunch, and down for their naps.
“Are the boys asleep?” Jake whispered to his wife as he stepped out of the nursery.
“They knocked out the second that their heads touched their pillows,” she mused, chuckling lightly. “I think that we tired them out. What about Evie?”
“She’s sound asleep,” Jake reported, closing the door carefully.
“I think that we have some time,” Jake’s wife stated suggestively, smiling at her husband.
“Lead the way, Mrs. Seresin,” Jake replied, matching his wife’s smile.
Grabbing each other’s hand, the Seresins hurried down the hallway to their shared bedroom. A quick joint shower and change of clothes later, the sound of snoring echoed down the hallway. Jake laid on his back with his wife curled up onto his chest and the both of them absolutely passed out.
Maybe younger versions of themselves would have wanted to spend every second of their free time catching up on their limited intimacy. But for now, a shower quickie would suffice. They had more hours of sleep to catch up on than anything else, after all.
#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun: maverick#tgm#tgm fanfiction#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin#hangman x reader#hangman fanfiction#hangman fluff#hangman fic#hangman imagine#top gun hangman#top gun maverick hangman#hangman seresin#hangman seresin imagine#jake seresin imagine
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your way back to me
Dad!Jake “Hangman” Seresin x female reader
Summary: Jake’s best student gets into an accident and ends up in the hospital, and he doesn’t want to leave her alone so he waits for her mother to show up. But her mother just so happens to be the love of his life who left him in the middle of the night decades prior, and it’s about time she shared her biggest secret.
Warnings: Allusion to smut. Cursing. idk, that may be it.
Notes: This is an AU of the Oh, Baby series.
She was a good kid.
A great kid.
Dedicated, strong, wise beyond her years. Wickedly stubborn, and yet, she managed to keep it from impacting her work. She didn’t have the ego; that entitlement and bravado that came with being as talented as she was. But she wasn’t just talented. As if it were woven into the network of her veins, she was the absolute best at what she did, far surpassing her classmates.
No one wondered how she achieved so much at such a young age. She lived by some internal set of rules that Jake had caught onto over the last few months. Something along the lines of ‘work harder, train longer, don’t lose hope, never surrender.’ He could see it in every choice she made—too similar to his own mantra of motivation when he was developing his skills in the sky so many years ago. But she was also open. Open to offering others what she knew, and open to learning from others what she didn’t. He couldn’t have asked for a better student; didn’t even realize one like her could possibly exist.
He never had a child. There was one woman he would’ve given it all to, but when she left, finding another he cared to build a family with was not so easily achieved. But if anyone were to come close to what he imagined his kid to be like, Eve was it. The qualities she possessed that he recognized as his own were what bonded them, and the rest of her—the other pieces that made her whole—were infinitely better. They surpassed him. Those qualities, he’d deduced, came from her mother.
He didn’t know much about Eve’s mother, and knew of Eve's father only what Eve had shared with him—that solely being that the man was a pilot and the determining factor in her choosing to be the same. And maybe, he thought, that was why the two of them fell into their easy flow. He had always wanted a child; someone to care and be there for, and Eve was in need of the support and encouragement that should have come from the father she never knew. And so developed the relationship they had—one of instructor and mentor, confidant and friend.
Rooster teased him; told him that if he wanted something to take care of and watch over like a papa hawk, then he should’ve just gotten a puppy. But a puppy was a thought-out process. It was an acknowledged adjustment to daily life that required careful planning. It wasn’t the same. He hadn’t planned on taking Eve under his wing. Somehow, it was a natural development. He cared about the kid’s well-being. He wanted her to do well. The possibility of her fire and liveliness being snuffed out from a mission gone wrong was unable to pass through his mind without an accompanying squeeze to his heart. Should it become a reality, he would lose the closest thing he had to a daughter, and he knew he’d feel the full force of it.
That was why he stayed when the rest of her team had eventually gone back to base. Despite his exhaustion, despite his duties, the aches in his body from cheap waiting room chairs, and the hours upon hours of unchanging news, he refused to leave.
Eve only had her mother, and while she had been notified of the accident, it would take ages to make her way to California from the east coast. When she would finally arrive at the hospital, he didn’t want her to be alone. He wanted Eve’s mother to understand that there was someone else who cared about her baby, who tried so damn hard to protect her when he could, and wouldn’t leave her side when he failed.
—-
Jake…
Jake!
He internally groaned.
He hated when you called out to him. He hated that your voice always sounded so clear; so near that it filled him with enough false hope to have him reaching out into the darkness, thinking his fingers might actually feel your body. He imagined them grazing along your skin as you smiled at him in a promise that you were real, right in front of him, able to be tugged close and held tight and kissed until the rest of the world fell apart around you. He pictured you still in his bed, wrapped around him, trading whispers of love. It was a common stabbing to his chest that never failed to pierce through to his heart. Yet, if it disappeared, if you disappeared, if the dreams stopped, he knew it might be the thing to finally undo him.
“Jake!”
He jolted upright in his chair before his eyes had a chance to snap open. He looked up at a ghost. Stunning. Ethereal. A well-known silhouette.
Huffing, he positioned his elbow back on the armrest so he could rest his cheek against his fist. He allowed his eyes to drift closed. “Go away,” he mumbled. “You’re not real.”
“What are you talking about?”
His vision again tried to adjust to the overhead lighting. With a bite in his tone, he replied, “You are not—”
His eyes widened as they met those he had stared into so many times before. Real?
Jake shook his head, trying to recall any serious hits to the head. But then an invading thought caused him to remember his purpose.
His stiff joints cracked as he hopped out of his seat and rushed to the main desk.
"Excuse me, Miss." The words tumbled from his lips so fast it startled the young woman behind the counter. "Can you please tell me if—"
"She's going to be fine, Jake."
His breath hitched at the voice not leaving the mouth of the shocked young woman. The voice that came from behind him. That voice. The only one that mattered.
Moments ago, he was convinced his mind was having fun with him, playing and betraying simultaneously. However, needing to know Eve's state had shoved that concern to the side. But now it was unmistakable.
Jake gulped. He slowly turned.
Fuck.
His brow pinched, eyes beginning to sting as his heart went wild inside his chest.
Beautiful. So damn beautiful.
Like a fresh wave, it washed over him how different he felt just at the mere sight of you compared to how he did for any woman he had in his life over the last decades. Those feelings never came close to matching. They weren't on the same tier; couldn't be when what he felt for you sat high on a pedestal of his own making.
His eyes savored their slow scanning of you.
Exhaustion showed in the slump of your shoulders and in the dark circles under your eyes. Your hair was slightly messy. The shape of your body was hidden under a large sweatshirt. Your thumbnails were worn down from being nervously picked at. And Jake could see a few fine lines touched around your face. But you were still you. You still looked like his girl. And he couldn't understand how the hell you were in front of him.
"Eve's going to be ok," you repeated. "I talked with the doctor already. They gave her some medication to help her rest."
"You talked to…" He was still worn out. Brain trying to catch up with the world around him until, eventually, it clicked. "Eve is your daughter."
The empty room was silent as you stared at him. Then you said, "We can come back in the morning to see her. They said visiting hours are over so we have to go."
You twisted on your heel, making your way to the exit. Your steps against the tile echoed.
You were real. Each passing second further proving it. So he followed after you.
"Wait! You can't just walk aw—"
"Not here," you interjected.
His mouth instantly closed. He wouldn't argue, fearing that doing so would somehow make you disappear. And that was not something he was willing to risk.
He trailed you out the front door of the hospital.
"Are we far enough away now that you'll talk to me?"
You stopped and faced him. Neither of you seemed to guess what to do first. He had asked his question and he wanted his answer, but you didn't appear to know how to give one, so he skipped past it and instead glanced at your ring finger. It was bare. But maybe that meant nothing.
"Are you married?" He asked.
"No." You wrapped your arms around your middle. Hugging yourself. Barring yourself from him. Your weight shifted to your other foot, then your averted gaze made its way back to his. "Are you?"
His head shook as he soaked in the relief of your response.
Heaviness settled between you despite the California breeze moving the air along.
"Did you know?" He broke the silence, but the tension held firm. And as if you expected it, you didn’t flinch. "Did you know I was her instructor?"
The simple gesture of your nod was a punch to the gut.
"And you didn't want to reach out? Talk to me? See me?"
"Jake—"
"I would've done anything to get a chance to—" He stopped himself at the pain screwing your features. That expression had always ripped him apart. Twenty years changed nothing.
Taking a calming breath, he continued. "I'm sorry. I didn't…I'm not trying to…" His hand ran down his face. "Shit, I don't know how to do this anymore. I never thought I'd see you again."
You made no rushing move to collect the words he was giving you, and Jake sighed in disappointment. This was not how the two of you interacted. You didn’t stand so far apart. You didn’t hold yourselves back from touching one another. You weren’t supposed to be nervous in each other's presence.
"You look beautiful."
With a snort, you replied, "I'm a mess." You looked down at your sweatshirt and leggings. "I wore this to bed last night. They called me at the crack of dawn and I practically ran to the airport." Tugging at the hem of the oversized top did nothing to erase its wrinkles. "I didn't know you guys train so early."
"Eve likes to, so I let her," Jake said. "I'm so relieved that she's going to be ok. She's really great. If I ever had a daughter, I'd hope she'd be like Eve."
A hard swallow briefly created a bulge in your throat. Your arms found their way around your waist again.
"Do you, uh…do you have a place to stay?" With me, he thought. You belong with me.
"I'll find a hotel."
"You can sleep at mine."
"I couldn't intrude—"
"Honey, it's you. You're not an intrusion," he said, stepping closer.
He would’ve paused to consider the slip of the endearment and the slight widening of your eyes, but he too desperately needed to convince you to go with him. He needed more time. More time to exchange questions, to learn all he’d missed. More time to hear your voice, and maybe, if he could encourage it, hear your laugh as well. More time to be in your presence and exist in the space you enchanted. More of any and everything with you.
His hand rested on your arm and even through the thick material of the sweatshirt, he could feel your heat. So familiar. So welcoming.
Home.
"Come home with me, Honey. I've still got the spare room."
—
There'd been an unspoken agreement, as Jake drove back to his house, that neither of you would discuss all that had been revealed within the half-hour prior. Well, ‘agreement’ maybe was not the most accurate of words. You didn't speak, so Jake didn't pressure you. Had you chosen to open your mouth, he would've hung onto every syllable.
When you did finally step into the house, you shocked him with your sudden willingness to ask questions. How long had he been an instructor? Why had he kept the house when he'd surely been deployed elsewhere for long periods of time throughout his career? How the rest of his old team was?
He answered each one as you made your way down the hall into the living room. Then you went quiet and Jake glanced over his shoulder to find you staring at his wall of frames. From left to right, your eyes scanned each picture—those of his friends, group shots of his past classes, and one or two of him with his Gram. But you stared longest at the last one, and reached up to softly run your fingers over your younger face; a happy young woman smiling wide from his kiss on your cheek.
His chest tightened. "Do you want something to drink?"
You jerked your hand back to your side. A pinkish tinge rushed to your cheeks from having been caught, but seeing that reaction only produced the same in him. "No, thank you."
Nodding, he said, “Make yourself at home.” Just as you used to. Back when you were so close, so attached to one another that home really was being in each other’s space. It was the way things should have always been. It’s the way things would have continued to be had you not left him.
Jake grabbed a glass from his cabinet as you sat, poured himself a swigs-worth of alcohol, and downed it. He needed to curb the edge; calm the wiggling nerves under his skin. Then he joined you on the couch.
“How are you feeling?”
You blew out a long breath. “Exhausted. I was in panic mode all day. The only reason I’m not suffocating right now is because the doctor promised me she’ll be fine.”
“I felt that relief, too,” he said, trying to restrain himself from wringing his hands. “I mean, I know she isn’t my daughter, but I try to help and prepare her for every obstacle as if she were my own.”
As he had hoped, he got to hear your laugh. Not the one he so fondly remembered, though. It was a weak chuckle, not the least bit imbued with humor, and there was an odd twinge of something else he didn't quite understand.
“Of course you do," you muttered under your breath.
His brow pinched, and he was ready to ask what you meant, but his first word was interrupted.
“Jake, why didn’t you ever marry?”
"Uh…" He shrugged. "I don’t know. It just never happened.”
Lying to you was not something he was accustomed to. It was different than when he was a younger man keeping the secret of his feelings from the woman he’d loved for a year. You’d never directly asked him what he felt for you, so he was never in a position to be untruthful. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to tell you now that the sole reason he never married was because the only woman he ever imagined having a family with vanished from his life while he slept unaware and unable to stop it. You, though, didn’t seem to have the same problem when it came to properly moving on. You had created that family. Without him.
“Were you ever married?” he asked. “To Eve’s father? Or someone?”
For such a simple curiosity, you took a while to address it, opting instead to sit in silence, eyes not entirely focused on any particular thing in the room as one thumbnail picked at the other.
He knew that look, only shown when you were overthinking.
"Jake," you began, eyes still lost for a moment before they flicked over to his, “Do you know how old Eve is?"
"Sure. Pretty much everyone does. She's one of the youngest to ever be in the program," he chuckled.
A sense of pride encouraged his smile. Being so young made Eve’s skill and abilities wildly impressive, and aiding in her success couldn't be compared to anything less than an honor.
His grin remained long after the lingering of his statement faded entirely. And not once did your expression shift. Rather, the radiating anxiety continued to halo your body.
Jake placed his hand on top of yours to soothe their fiddling, and you immediately grabbed onto him, pulling that hand closer and keeping it snug between your palms.
“Honey, what’s wrong?"
Sighing, you peered up at him. Your gaze was sad, desperate, pleading, in a way. And he stared back, trying to decipher that pain; hoping to figure out why you were looking at him as you were, and why you'd asked the questions you did.
Then his eyes widened.
His jaw slackened.
Lips parted.
He’d heard of those random shocks. Those instances of a thread suddenly linking two dots, and that new connection bringing a clarity which, in hindsight, should have been so very obvious.
Jake sifted through his rapid replaying of memories that spanned the last couple of months.
Phoenix eyeing the young student and commenting how the girl bore quite the resemblance to him—He’d brushed it off. Plenty of people had blond hair and green eyes.
The way she sometimes spoke. A specific phrase said in a specific tone that he’d only ever heard come out of your mouth—Just an odd coincidence.
The fact that her name was the same as his grandmother's—There were only so many names to select from, right?
But now, with that new unbreakable thread connecting those previously sporadic dots, clarity smacked him upside the head.
"You left me at the beginning of that summer," he started, voice low and slow and careful with each word. "And Eve's birthday is in March."
"Yes."
Looking down at your joined hands, he nodded and said, "She's our daughter."
He could practically hear your swallow.
"...Yes."
He stood then, hand slipping from yours so it could run down his face as the other settled on his hip. He blew out a heavy breath.
"Jake, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I thought—I thought I was doing the right thing at the time. When I found out you were her instructor, I was going to find a way to tell you, but I was so scared and it was selfish and—"
"Does she know?"
"No, she—When she came here she told me she looked up to you, and that if she imagined the kind of man her father was, he'd be like you."
You paused to properly exhale, head hanging in the aftermath.
He wanted to erase that showing of shame, but if he interrupted you, you might not have given the rest of the story. And he needed the rest of the story. He needed the truth of the events that had haunted him for decades.
"I always felt I made the biggest mistake of my life the day I left you, but hearing her say that solidified it. And for years, I let fear keep me from righting that wrong,” you said, a droplet of water falling from your face, soaking into the fabric of your leggings. "All this time I've been so afraid that you wouldn't want her, and you wouldn't want me, and it's paralyzed me."
His fingers twitched at his sides, begging him to allow them to brush away your tears—to let the woman he loved know that he didn’t hate her for her past choices—but he couldn’t move. And the only thing he could think to say was, "Should it really have taken her getting hurt for you to tell me?"
Raw heartbreak seeped into your gaze.
"So it's my daughter that is laying in a hospital bed right now." The more he said it, the more he called her that in acknowledgment of who they truly were to one another, the more it ached each limb and vein and nerve of his body to know that she was hurting. Yes, he had always cared about her and treated her like his own, but Eve being his daughter changed things. It altered his biological instincts and the chemical balance in his brain. Failing in protecting her was no longer just a failure, it was catastrophic to his soul.
He pictured her face bruised, her lip cut, her cheek swollen. He imagined your sheer horror once learning she was injured thousands of miles out of your reach. You’d faced it alone. You never should have been alone to begin with.
"I should've kept looking for you," he said. "I should have just told everyone else to fuck off."
"Jake, if they were telling you to give up, then—"
"Don't. Do not say it was for good reason. We could've been together. If I had found you we would've been a family."
The day his friends had sat him down, laid out what they believed to be the reality he refused to accept, and told him to move on, was fresh in his mind. Not a moment of it had faded. He’d dreamt about it for ages—sometimes still did—always waking devastated.
Your palm cupping his cheek called him back from his thoughts.
"The only reason we weren't a family is because I fucked up. I did,” you stressed. “This isn't on you."
You were suddenly so close, he realized. So warm within his space. How he’d survived losing you, he didn’t know.
"Would you have come back with me? If I had been able to find where you were?"
Your hand fell but he grabbed it before you could retreat, and thankfully, you didn’t fight him. Then you sighed, the act expelling the tenseness that had stiffened your form. "I'm not going to answer that question."
Perhaps for the best. Either answer would’ve broken him.
He wished to go back in time, to never give up on his search. He wanted a chance to convince the woman he loved to raise a child together. He wanted to be a father to that baby girl as she’d grown, and enjoy all of the moments that came with being her parent.
Nothing could give that to him now, but at least he wouldn’t be losing any more time.
Eve being grown didn’t mean she wasn’t his. Being in one another’s lives proved to be predestined. He was a father, had always been, and could maybe finally be seen as a father by his daughter now that you had bared it all and given the truth.
So he figured maybe it was only fair to do the same for you.
Jake looked at you. Really looked at you. His eyes bore into yours, taking in the swell of your pupils and the different colors flecked around in what remained of the ring of your irises. "Is this secret sharing day?" he asked.
"What?” Your brow pinched as you sniffled and swiped your fingers under the lower lashes framing your right eye to remove the final remnants of tears. “I-I suppose so. If that’s really what you want to call it."
“Good.” Both hands were on his hips to give him some sense of physical stability, and he licked his lips, then said, "I didn't get married because I never found anyone I loved as much as I love you. I couldn’t fully give myself to anyone while I still belonged to someone else.”
Shock and disbelief melded inside that previously heartbroken gaze.
He hadn’t been able to say the words before you left. You hadn’t given him a chance. But he could see now that you had spent years wondering if felt that deeply for you, as he had wondered if you felt that way for him.
“Jake, you…you love me?”
“I've always loved you, Honey,” he declared just before his lips met yours.
The soft touch didn’t seem to stun you. You didn’t take your time to adjust to the kiss you hadn’t shared in decades. Instead, you fell right into it, right alongside him. Your arms rose to wrap around his neck, sending shudders up his spine. You tugged him closer as he did the same to you. You moaned and whimpered and let your tongue play with his, so generously allowing him to get drunk off of your taste.
You kissed him exactly like he remembered; like nothing had changed or interrupted the perfect path you once started on. There was the same sweetness that, just as it used to, surrendered to an underlying burn. A familiar need for each other that had never died. And you settled into it; kissing skin and grasping at clothes and snuffing out all space between you until neither of you could take it anymore.
“Honey?” A little whine into your mouth.
“Yes,” you replied, sealing your lips again before he could say another word. Because you weren’t just answering the call of his name for you. You were answering the unspoken question the both of you already knew was coming.
Jake grinned into the kiss and slipped his hand down the front of your leggings.
—-
"I assume you have more questions?"
Your voice was the first break in the peaceful silence where he had been lazily pressing his lips to your neck and bare shoulder while your back was tucked against his chest.
He did have questions. But it was a war whether to ask them or to remain a little longer in the bubble of bliss where he could touch you and cuddle you and kiss you. You had asked, though, and he'd never been too good at denying you anything.
Pulling his lips away from your skin, he said, “A hundred of them.”
You flipped under the bedsheet to face him. "Any particular one you wish to start with?"
Jake paused. Not because he didn’t know the first of which to ask, but because your answer had a great deal of power over him. It contained his hope and his pain, either with the potential to destroy the other. It was an answer that would dictate his future.
"Can she know?" He finally asked.
"She deserves to know,” you replied to his relief. “She'd want to know. As long as you want her to know, too."
His arm over your waist curled and pulled you closer. "Of course I do, Honey."
"Then we can tell her tomorrow, if you want."
"Are you ready for that?"
"It's not about me," you said. "She might forgive me now, she might not. It could take a while, I suppose, and I hate that, but I'd deserve it."
When your head dipped down away from his, he ran his hand over the strands of your hair and brushed his lips against your forehead.
"I hope that we all can look at this as a chance to have something new, though," you continued. "I'd like for us to look ahead, not behind."
Jake smiled. That was all he wanted. Just a chance to have what he’d lost. Everything he had lost.
"And what about you and me?" He hummed as his knuckle under your chin tilted your face back up to his. "Do we get something new as well? Because I don't know if I'm capable of letting you walk out of my life again."
The corners of your lips curved the slightest and you cupped his cheek, drawing him further into you. The kiss was gentle, brief, but more than enough to send tingles throughout him. Then you separated a hairs width and whispered:
"Jake, I'm not capable of leaving you again."
----
A/N: Ok, so this might be it for a little bit, guys, as far as fic posting. There’s been a lack of interest it seems lately and i’m not in a good space mentally to be able to put a lot into it and not know how it’s being received. It’s no ones fault but my own that I feel this way. This is how I’ve chosen to spend my time and this is the platform I picked. I want to write the rest of Oh, Baby and Beyond the Hills stuff but idk. Maybe i’ll snap out of it. But this was just to let those of you who have been following know what the plan might be. I’m very thankful that some of you have stuck around this long.
Tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @mayhemmanaged @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman seresin x reader#top gun maverick#top gun maverick hangman#top gun maverick fic#tgm fic#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin angst#dad!jake seresin#dad!jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x female!reader#jake seresin x fem!reader#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin au#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfic
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#hangman x rooster#hangster#top gun hangman#top gun rooster#top gun maverick hangman#rooster x hangman
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Can I request a Bob blurb? Maybe he has a really hot girlfriend and nobody believes him until they meet her? You can do whatever you want with this!
A/N: for the purposes of this story, the daggers are permanently stationed in san diego. idk if this really fits the request, but i look at bob and immediately think that man can dance, so....
also, the squad gives bob a bit of a hard time in this one, but i promise they love each other lmao and the length of this may have gotten away from me, but i had fun, so it's okay lol and this isn't proofread bc i'm tired so excuse any spelling errors (i'll stop talking now byeee!)
(p.s. see if you can spot the movie reference, 10 bonus points to whoever points it out)
Word Count: 2.2k
Content Warnings: none unless you don't like dancing ;)
Cheek to Cheek
Bob knew he wasn't really a "ladies' man." He was rather quiet and reserved, keeping to himself most of the time. He wasn't cocksure and forward, like Jake. He wasn't a goofy, shameless flirt, like Bradley. He didn't consider himself shy; he wasn't afraid to engage in conversation or make friends. Bob just preferred to sit back and observe. He liked to watch and listen, getting a good read of every room he walked into. Watching and listening was how he noticed you.
You were a sight to behold. Bob reasoned that you had to be new to the club because he would've noticed you before.
Bob doesn't get much downtime, but when he does, he likes to spend it at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Since he was little, Bob loved to dance. He remembers his mother teaching him a basic waltz when he was about seven. Gliding and twirling around the living room on top of his ma's feet are some of his fondest memories. He started ballroom classes when he was around twelve (he wanted to impress his date to his very first dance) and fell even more in love with the art. His repertoire grew and grew, having meticulously memorized different styles (paso doble was his favorite). He still loved dancing as he grew older, able to turn on the charm as easy as he knew the moves. He loved the way dancing made him feel. Bob never felt more free than when he was drifting about the dancefloor, leading his partner. He thought it was the closest you could get to flying while staying on the ground.
That's why, when he noticed you, he knew he had to have a dance. Thankfully, his regular partner, Julie, understood and agreed to the switch for the night (she was a great wingwoman). For as often as he was in his head, Bob usually never got nervous. He was nervous approaching you. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was Lindy Hop night and you were wearing grey striped slacks, a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and an old, beat up pair of white slip-on vans. He was in his usual button down and slacks. One look at you and he knew he was a goner. You looked a bit disheveled, hair haphazardly put up and out of your face, making small talk with a few other members of the group. He thought you looked ever so slightly out of place and that it was so, so endearing.
Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you for a dance. It did take more than a few pep talks from Julie to get him to go over to you, but she didn't have to literally drag him there, so it was a success. He asked for a dance, holding out his hand. You said yes.
One dance turned into two, then three, and eventually you'd danced the whole night away. You'd exchanged numbers before going home and then you weren't just meeting once a week at the dance club. You were making time to see each other whenever possible. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. It had now been six months since you and Bob made it official and you couldn't be happier.
Now, it made sense with his job and his general personality why the rest of the Dagger Squad hadn't known about you. They'd had conversations about their love lives often, but Bob had never really volunteered much information. You two had a good thing going and he liked to keep good things to himself for a while. Plus, the conversation rarely ever got turned his way. Bob was... very unassuming. The rest of the squad, except for Nat, never really inquired much about Bob's love life. It's not like Bob was purposely keeping you from his friends— it just never really came up. Nat was the only one who knew Bob was seeing someone and she was keeping it close to her chest out of respect for her friend and WSO, but also in the event that it spawned a bet. A bet she would surely win.
Eventually, one evening at the Hard Deck, the Daggers were all discussing their love lives once again. Mickey turned to Bob and asked if he was seeing anyone.
"I am, actually." Bob felt 5 more pairs of eyes snap to him, a collective "what?!" buzzing in the air at their inquisitive looks.
"You're seeing someone?" Jake asked, partially stunned. Bob wasn't offended, he knew he presented as a bit of a wallflower, and he was okay with that.
"What, you jealous, Bagman?" Bradley couldn't help himself. Jake's gaze snapped to the other aviator, challenging. Despite them both being on... better terms after the uranium mission, they still liked to jab at each other. Jake was usually better at it— slow, persistent needling while keeping a calm and collected facade. Bradley was more direct, favoring an immediate reaction over slow buildup.
Before Jake could respond, Bob cut in, turning the focus back to him.
"Matter of fact, I am," He sat a little straighter, dusting his pants of remnants of the peanuts he was snacking on. Natasha took a swig from her beer to hide the sly grin that was threatening to break across her face.
"Romantically? You're seeing someone romantically?" Reuben questioned.
"Sure am." Bob pushed his glasses further up his nose. He was thinking about you and how he wished you'd been able to come out tonight. You had talked to Bob about coming by to meet his friends, but scheduling conflicts always arose.
"What's her name?" Mickey asked.
"What's she look like?" Nat played into it, ignoring the pointed look Bob shot her way. He was still thinking of you, particularly about how darling you looked when you writhed underneath him, but they didn't need to know about that. Instead, Bob refocused, a dreamy smile taking over his features and a rosy blush creeping up his neck, landing on his cheeks. He couldn't help but look at the ground for a few moments, then he relayed your name. It felt so natural falling from his lips. The squad was eager for more information.
"She's just... perfect. She's smart and funny and so, so beautiful. She's got these eyes that just... and her smile?" Bob sighs, he actually sighs.
"I don't buy it." Jake is the first to burst the bubble. "I mean, we ask you what she looks like and all you give us is "oh, her eyes, her smile"? No way," Jake throws back the rest of his drink. Mickey and Reuben nod, signaling their agreement. Natasha smiles devilishly to no one but herself.
"C'mon, Bagman, he's clearly telling the truth. I mean, look at him. He's actually lovesick." Bradley chimes in. He knows what a man in love looks like.
"Yeah, it's kind of disgusting," Javy pipes up, firmly siding with Bradley.
"Well boys," Nat claps Bob on the shoulder. "Looks like we have a bet on our hands." She watches the men around the high-top table, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hundred dollars in the pot says Bob's mystery girl is real. You in?"
Nat pulls out five twenty dollar bills, placing them in the middle of the table. Bob watches in amusement.
"Steep price, Natty, but I'll bite." Jake throws his wager in as well.
Eventually, everyone put some money in the pot, much to Nat's satisfaction, even if she would have to split the prize money.
"Alright, alright... When and where can we meet your lovely lady?" Jake asks Bob, who is glancing down at his watch.
"Uhh, this Thursday at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Seven-thirty, sharp. Wear something nice, but comfortable." With that, Bob was throwing on his jacket and out the door, headed home to see you. He wouldn't have left so abruptly, but you'd sent him a text and he wasn't going to keep you waiting.
The Daggers were even more perplexed. Well, all except for Nat, but the rest didn't need to know about it.
"San Diego Swing Dance Club?" Reuben was taken aback. Jake was thoroughly amused.
"Oh I have got to see this now."
-
The week flew by, and eventually it was Thursday evening. You were excited to finally meet Bob's friends, he talked about them so often. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, fretting over your outfit and hair more than usual, not to mention your makeup.
"Babydoll, you'll look beautiful no matter what you choose." Bob had been sitting on your bed for the better part of an hour now, as you agonized over your outfit choice.
You sighed, coming to sit next to him. "I just want to make a good first impression." You rest your head on his shoulder.
"I promise they'll like you no matter what you wear." Bob presses a kiss to your temple. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.
"I'll go with the plaid pants then."
Bob huffs out a laugh, "Alright, baby."
-
The Daggers arrived at seven-thirty, sharp. Just like Bob had told them. Nat sent Bob a text, letting him know that they'd arrived. He excused himself from the group to collect the rest of his friends. He was excited, happy to share one of his passions with the people he called friends. He was also happy to finally introduce his girl to the rest of his friends. Bob made his way over to the rest of the squad, clustered awkwardly by the main entrance of the dance hall.
"Glad you could make it!" Bob pulls Natasha in for a hug and greets the rest of the guys in a similar fashion.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bobby." Jake says, eyes sweeping the room for a lady to take home for the night. Bradley and Javy were doing the same. Mickey and Reuben had brought partners for the evening— a double date.
The group fell into their usual rhythm, easy conversation and a few friendly jabs here and there. Almost forgetting the reason why they were there. Almost. Jake was just about to bring up the fact that they still had yet to meet Bob's mystery girl, when the intro to Thurston Harris' Little Bitty Pretty One started playing from the bandstand. It was jive night, which just so happened to be your favorite. Scanning the crowd, your eyes found Bob talking with his friends. 'Well, it's now or never,' you thought, and you were beelining towards your boyfriend so you could make it onto the floor for the first dance. Bob was just telling Nat about this new recipe he tried out for dinner when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to look at you and smiled.
"Bobby c'mon, can't miss the first dance!"
He looked back at his friends, "Be right back," and Bob was off to the dancefloor with you. The Daggers watched as he whisked you away, stepping into a seamless jive. You felt like you were positively flying, floating through the air, feet touching every cloud. The way you and Bob danced together was something special. You could read each other in a way most dance partners wished they could. Feeling the music, keeping in time with the rhythm, anticipating and adapting to every move the other made. Improvisation was the purest form of art, the amount of trust placed in your partner is unlike anything else. You and Bob had something special, there was no denying that, especially as you were twirling across the floor.
"Who knew he could move like that?" Javy had to pick his jaw up off the floor.
"They make it look so effortless," Reuben looked utterly amazed.
Jake had to admit, he was impressed. Game recognizes game and damn it, Bob Floyd had game. It really was always the quiet ones. You were pretty, and you seemed fun. You seemed like you'd be good for Bob, even though they hadn't technically met you yet. Jake couldn't even be mad that he'd lost the bet. What he needed now was to learn how to dance like Bob because apparently, that was a great way to meet a lady. You and Bob were out of breath when you rejoined the group, introductions going a smooth as ever. You like the squad and the squad liked you. By the end of the night, you and Bob had shown everyone how to do a basic jive. Reuben, Mickey, and Javy caught on quickly, feeling comfortable enough to join the people out on the main floor. Bradley and Jake needed... help. Nat was managing, wanting a bit more time to figure the steps out before trying them on the floor.
Before everyone knew it, it was ten o'clock and the band was saying goodnight. You and Bob were saying your goodbyes, ready to head home. Once you and him were out the door, Natasha turned to Bradley and Javy.
"Alright, we split this three ways and make sure to absolutely rub it in Jake's face." Nat divvies up the cash and Bradley and Javy take their cuts. Javy gives a curt nod and a smile before walking to his car.
Bradley turns to Natasha. "Can I walk you to your car?" He offers his arm.
"Sure," Nat smiles and accepts.
#robert bob floyd#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fic#bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#robert floyd x reader#top gun maverick hangman#tgm#top gun: maverick#tgm fic#my fic
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Yowzers!!
Glen Powell in a white t-shirt and cowboy hat getting wet in the rain...don't mind if I do!
#glen powell#twisters#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x you#hangman top gun#hangman#hangman fanfic#top gun maverick hangman#top gun fanfic#top gun maverick#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin fic#jake seresin#jake seresin fic
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past the texas line.
jake seresin x reader (wc: 2.4k)
summary: the past comes back to haunt him when Jake gets word that your ex boyfriend is back in town. he makes a trip back home to ensure it stays buried.
warnings: mentions of death and blood, swearing
author’s note: this is a little different than what I usually write, but I was feeling inspired by Zach Bryan’s “Crooked Teeth”. definitely recommend giving it a listen before reading!
————————————————————————
He doesn't remember it being so hot.
Jake wipes his perspiring hand off on the back of his jeans after handing a crumbled wad of bills over to the cashier. Sweat rolls down his neck and causes his cotton shirt to stick to his back as he waits for her to unstick them from each other. Her expression says she's got better things to do than count out his damp dollar bills. He wants to tell her that it's more than enough and she can keep the change, that he pocketed just enough cash for two fill-ups and a motel stay to make the drive.
He keeps his head down, hat covering his eyes when he makes it out of the store, boots treading heavy in the dust. The bell chimes out after him, as though chastising him for leaving in such a hurry. Jake doesn't glance back, afraid that if he does, door of the beat up patrol car parked permanently out front will open and the sheriff will stare at him through his dark sunglasses and say, "Don't I know you, son?"
"Where you headed, son?"
Normally in this kind of situation, Jake would lay on the proper southern manners his mama taught him, answer him with a "Yes sir, I grew up a few mile form here" and then, "No sir, I ain't been drinkin'," and then shake his hand and leave him with a "Thank you, sir. Have a good night." But not tonight.
Jake turns his head away, green eyes squinting as though to avoid the beam of the flashlight—he purposely dips his head down so that the shadow of his hat conceals most of his face. No one comes this far out of town without a reason. By openly showing his face around here, Jake might as well hand him a wanted poster with his name on it.
The tarp in his truck bed flaps persistently in the wind. Jake inconspicuously eyes it through his dusty side view mirror. He can make out nothing but blackness underneath it.
"Camping out by the river for a night."
The sheriff's face remains stoic. He's still shining the flashlight into the truck. "The river?" he asks, sounding suspect about the answer. "Come an awful long away out of town to camp, huh son?"
"Used to go up there with my old man," Jake supplies. It's a another lie. He's only come this way once before and only ever seen the river in passing. He doesn't have to have been to know why people go through the trouble of making the trip out there—why there's nothing alive out there for miles.
Its current is strong enough to drown a man and deep enough to swallow a herd of crossing cattle under its muddy surface, never to be seen again. No one's going to bother to check for a body, not when there's an all too likely possibility of finding more than one.
The deputy sizes up Jake for another moment before seemingly deciding there's not much else he can do to harass him. The kid's license had checked out, there was nothing outstanding on his record, not even a damn speeding ticket—he wasn't surprised to find that he was enlisted in the service, his type usually was.
"Well son," he begins patronizingly. Jake fights the urge to roll his eyes. He's getting the sense that this guy is hankering for a reason to write him a citation. "I don't wanna see you back around here. Understand?"
"Yessir." This time he means it. He has no intention to come back.
Body rigid, hair standing up on the back of his neck, Jake slams the door shut on his pickup and jams the key in, twisting hard as the engine roars to life. He doesn't look back until just before the cruiser fades into the dust in his rear view mirror.
It takes him two days to get down past the Texas line. Jake knows the state like the back of his hand, it's home after all, but crossing back into no man's land causes something dark to settle into his bones. He had buried this place and it's memory a long time ago.
Of course, Jake is smarter than to think that burying something will make it cease to exist. Literally, yes, but figuratively, no. It's only a temporary fix to a problem—a problem that was now coming back to haunt him.
"Buxton's back in town."
The statement had sent him in a cold sweat from across the bar.
He pauses mid conversation, lowering his second beer of the night from his lips. The music is loud and the patrons of the Hard Deck louder, but the men aren't exactly speaking quietly either.
"You sure it was him? Thought he got into some trouble and skipped town?"
"Got into some trouble alright. Can't hardly tell what part of him to look at, he's so fucked up. Looks like someone finally laid into him."
Jake's breathing halts, and although it goes unnoticed by the people around him, his body stills.
"You think so?"
"Dunno, he won't say."
He's straining to hear the exchange between to two men, so lost in the conversation that he doesn't notice you looking at him in concern. "Jake?" Your hand ghosts up his knee to squeeze his muscular thigh.
The sight of your face, delicate brows furrowed in worry, eyes searching—always searching—reminds him to breathe. "Hmm?" he hums, rough hands tugging you into his lap to cover up his pervious distraction. You see right through him—you always do.
"You're distracted," you point out, but the resolve has left your voice now that he's holding you close, lips pressed to your temple. Jake's large hands smooth over your waist, holding you securely to his lap so that he can nuzzle into your neck.
"Distracted by you," he replies while closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath of your scent—safe is the best way he can describe it, home if you asked him to be more specific.
"Jake Michael," you warn, but make no move to stop him. Maybe if your friends had been watching you would have, but they've moved across the bar to watch Phoenix school Rooster at the pool table.
Jake just smiles warmly, relived that you have let the previous conversation drop. He's already planning a way to slip off to Texas for a few days, but for now, he sits back and indulges in the remainder of the evening knowing that you're safe in his arms.
It's strange seeing the land in the daylight. Jake remembers the way all the same. He does suppose that not much change happens to a desert in ten years.
He's been staring at the barren desert horizon through his windshield for close to two hours, watching the heat waves melt off the hood of his truck. He'd seen a mangey looking coyote trot across the road a few miles back, but for the most part there was nothing alive for miles.
Jake pulls off of the desolate road and slows his truck to a stop half a mile from the river. On the off chance that someone finds it, they'll assume it's broke down and pass it by. Stepping out of his truck, he fixes his hat on his head and starts walking.
Every step feels like deja vu.
The heat is almost unbearable, even in the evening. He had hoped by the time he made it this far, the sun would be low enough in the sky for the coolness of night to begin setting in.
San Diego was a culture shock when he was first stationed. He had been terribly homesick and had every intention to move back home eventually. That was until he met you. You and your love for the coast, and an even stronger love for your friends. The Dagger Squad was like family, and Jake came to appreciate your unwillingness to move away from them.
Jake knew he was going to marry you when he met you that first night at Hard Deck, but you didn't always see things that way. It wasn't that you didn't like Jake, really it was the exact opposite. The two of you were attached at the hip—thick as thieves—which is why you never even considered that Jake was interested in something far more than just being friends.
Jake hated your boyfriend. He hated him from the moment he met him, all thick mustache and slick, no-good, easy grin. The devil dressed in a polo and khakis. And he was right to hate him. Jake can count on two fingers the number of times he's seen you cry; both are because of your boyfriend.
The first time he calls you a bitch. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't have even blinked at the name. Maybe you would have even laughed in his face. The insult in and of itself means nothing to you. After fighting your way into the Top Gun program, you practically brandished the name with brusque pride. This was more than just an insult.
Jake didn't catch the whole exchange, and you refused to tell him what had happened to lead up to the situation, but he knows that you hadn't wanted him to witness it in the first place.
"Hey, what's going on here?"
Your head jerks towards the sound of Jake's voice, and you abruptly step forward as to shoulder past your boyfriend, who shifts reluctantly to let you away from the wall. Your eyes are red, and while he can tell that you're trying not to let it show, your voice is shaking.
"Nothing," you say all too quickly, hardly meeting his eye as you step around both of them. Your boyfriend stands there silently, watching the exchange with a self satisfied look on his smug face, as if daring you to say anything to Jake.
Jake ignores him and instead focuses his attention on you. "Hey—[y/n]," he tries, reaching out to stop you, but you dodge his outstretched hand.
"Let it go, Jake," you order, fixing him with a look that means business; you've always been too good at taking care of yourself. And then you walk off to join the rest of your friends at the bar, rubbing away the wounded look away from your eyes as you go.
The second time is after you've broken up with him. It's actually months after you've broken up with him. You had finally come to your senses after realizing that it was causing a rift between you and your friends.
He grabbed you one night at Hard Deck, wrapped his hand around your bicep hard enough to bruise and whispered something filthy into you ear. Jake knew because of the way your eyes darkened with disgust and your lip curled. He had to fight the urge to spring to your rescue—you were a big girl and could take care of yourself. To your credit, you stood your ground, kept it together until he released you and you could turn away, tears burning in the back of your eyes.
There is no third time.
Jake's standing up from the bar before he even knows what he's doing. Doesn't really know what his intentions are as he follows your boyfriend out of the door—ex boyfriend. But his head is clear as his boots carry him out to the parking lot, crunching the gravel underfoot as he passes his pickup parked out front.
The image of your face, red and splotchy with tears flashes through his mind. He grabs a metal fencepost out of the truck bed. The parking lot is silent besides the heavy crunch on his boots on the gravel and the blood roaring in his ears.
He finds the bastard leaning drunkenly against the side of his truck, the glass of a smashed beer bottle at his feet and another in his hand. He's too buzzed to hear Jake heading towards him. Without stopping to consider his options, Jake lifts the metal rod and swings like he's up to bat and the bases are loaded.
A crack echos through the parking lot.
The fence post catches him in the jaw and sends him sprawling to the floor.
Jake doesn't remember much after that, just that there was a lot of blood—on his clothes, in the parking lot, in his truck. The rest of the night was a frantic blur of adrenaline spurred moment.
A gathered flock of buzzards caw at him with an surprising amount of gall as he approaches the river bank, flapping their black wings powerfully. They scatter only out of irritation before making a brave advance back towards their original post.
Jake takes a wide berth around them. The deeper you get into Texas, the scarier the wildlife becomes. He would rather not know what they're feeding on. He has a feeling they might start eyeing him next if he disturbs them again.
The spot he is looking for is a couple yards past. Thistles are growing up around the fence post. If he hadn't marked the spot, he probably would have walked right past it. It had been pitch black the last time, but as he stands looking over the area, it starts to come back all too clearly to him.
He remembers the sweat rolling down his body despite the chill of the night, the ache in his shoulders from digging—with no moisture to soften the ground, it was like chipping away at concrete. He doesn't remember being scared, not like when his engines failed and his parachute didn't open, just angry and fueled by adrenaline.
Jake looks over his shoulder, back at the road where his truck is parked, then back to the river. The fence post stands there, overgrown by thistles and time.
He's still not scared.
"You're back," comes the barley audible mumble as Jake crawls into bed, curling his body around yours. The bedsheets are cool and your barley clothed body is radiating warmth. After you both resettle, legs intertwined, Jake’s nose tucked into the crevice of your neck, you lapse into comfortable silence. For a moment, Jake thinks you’ve already fallen back asleep.
“Where’d you go?” comes your quite voice.
His sigh is heavy. You don’t press him.
Staring into the darkness of the bedroom, Jake considers lying to you. Isn’t that what he’s been doing all this time? He’s sure you have your assumptions. You’re too smart not to. He pulls you closer into his body, his large hand coming to rest on your heart.
“Texas.”
#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin imagine#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#hangman top gun#hangman x y/n#hangman x reader#top gun imagine#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman fic#top gun maverick hangman
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Commander || Jake "Hangman" Seresin
Summary: Request - Did you see that pose about swim call in the Navy? Could you do a Hangman x Reader drabble while theyre deployed or something like that? super fluffy! You're so good at fluffy hangman haha. thanks!
A/N: Love a good Hangman fluff. Hope you enjoy reading! :)
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N
Word Count: 3,200+
“It’s too hot. I can’t take it anymore. How much longer do we have of this?” Jake whined leaning on the railing that overlooked the Arabian Sea.
You stopped with him shrugging off your button-up uniform from your shoulders leaving you just in your tank top, “You complain a lot Lieutenant Seresin. Only a few more days. Think you can make it?” Tying the top around your waist you leaned forward mimicking him. You weren’t really supposed to be doing that with your uniform, but you really couldn’t seem to care. He was right after all. It was blisteringly hot. July in the Middle East was no joke. You knew the worst that could happen was a slap on the wrist, a small reprimand if you were to get caught.
Jake rolled his eyes only subtly hiding the smile that was dancing on his lips. Even you had to acknowledge how damn good he looked as the setting sun framed his face for golden hour flawlessly, “Just because you’re a Commander now doesn’t mean you get to bully me Y/N.”
You shrugged, “Actually, I think it does Hangman. It’s exactly what a Commander gets to do. Command.” Giggling you turned your body to him. It was always so easy to be yourself around him. You had run ins with Jake all throughout your Naval carrier. First as students in Top Gun then on missions as coworkers. The two of you always seemingly dancing the line between friends and more than but both too afraid to take that step over.
He huffed knowing you quite literally had him there. He thought he had you somewhere else though, the air, “Now that you’re a big bad Commander you’ll never see the inside of the cockpit again.” It was the only thing he had. He knew you loved flying more than anything in the world. But you were born to lead. Having an uncanny ability to predict enemy strategies and to form defenses and offensive strategies was your strong suit. Not many had that gift. The killer instinct as Admiral Kazansky always told you.
“You know that’s not true Jake. Did we not just get back from flying with Captain Mitchell?” Raising your eyebrow, you waited for his retort. It took him a second too long to respond though. You knew you’d managed to get the upper hand, for this conversation at least.
“Need I remind you where your callsign came from, Salsa?” You had to admire his ability to steer the conversation in the direction he wanted. You’d even compliment it if it didn’t annoy you too much. But this was Hangman we were talking about.
You continued to stare at him eyebrows raised, “No, Jake, I don’t need you to remind me.”
“Student Aviator Lacking Situational Awareness.” He smirked remembering the time your Captain at Top Gun unfortunately giving you the nickname. Brilliant in the air and on the books didn’t mean you were so graceful when it came to common sense. All too often you’d ask the most basic questions after solving the most complex problems. Earning you the call sign Salsa. You didn’t hate it. But you didn’t really love it either.
You laughed it off, “And who’s the Commander now Jake?”
He bowed his head chuckling right along with you, “Fair. But even you have to admit… it’s hot as hell out here.” Jake tossed you a fake pout changing the conversation yet again in the span of a few moments. You’d roll with it. That’s what’s always worked.
“You’re telling me! I’m from Ohio! I’m used to ninety-degree summers with moderate humidity, not this shit. You’re from Texas, you should be used to it!” Leaning on the railing you embraced the wind blowing off the carrier. It was hot but at least it was moving, not stagnant like it was on land.
“I haven’t really lived there in years though sweetheart.” He defended himself throwing out that damn word that made you literally weak at the knees. He had to have known what he was doing to you.
You’d always found the man handsome as hell. But his personality put you off all too often. However, the more you got to know him the more you found out the personality was all just a front. He was actually a good guy with a kind heart who had been burned far too many times. Living the life as a nomad made it hard to settle and it was his defense mechanism. Was it tiring? Beyond. Was it working? Jake thought so.
“Fair.” You mimicked him again. It wasn’t your fault he’d chosen such words to send your brain into overdrive.
You smiled taking in his features. He was truly such a handsome guy that made you feel very strong feelings. You knew it was him. It was always him. It was always going to be him, and you were quite frankly tired of pretending it wasn’t.
“That all you got to say darling?” He tapped his fingertips on the railing as he waited your response.
“Jake.” You sighed not having a clue what to do or to say. It was like you were actually short circuiting. You’d love to take a next step with him, but you were horrified of the consequences. Were you even allowed?
You’d worked so fucking hard to get promoted as fast as you did. You’d proven to countless commanders, captains, and admirals your capabilities in strategy as often as you could. You’d made fast friends with Pete Mitchell as he was one of your instructors when you went through Top Gun all those years ago. Apparently, that was his first and only year of teaching. In turn, Admiral Kazansky had taken a quick liking to you as he held Pete in such high regard. One thing led to another, and you’d been promoted through the ranks much faster than anticipated. But you earned it. Always proving you were ready for the next step. Was it worth it to risk all that hard work?
“Yes?” He continued that damn Jake Seresin smirk that he wore so well.
“I was going to tell you top secret information about what may or may not be occurring at 0100 tomorrow.” You sighed removing your arms from the guard rail pretending you were walking away, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to freshen up.”
“Woah there, Y/N! You didn’t say anything about top secret information.” He grabbed your arm lightly as if to let you know he’d drop it the second you asked him to. Of course, you never would, you loved his touch.
“I don’t think I should tell you. You’re being awfully mean to your commander.” You frowned playfully loving the game you were always playing with him. Things were only serious if they needed to be. Things were fun most of the time. Making it so damn easy to be your full and complete self around the man. You’d developed such a deep crush that bordered on love for the blonde-haired pilot.
“What would please my commander then?” He winked taking a step closer to you. Closing off any distance you’d had between the two of you. So much for the heat?
You smiled a wicked one towards Jake, “Grovel for my forgiveness.”
He couldn’t contain his laughter. The way his face lit up as he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled and the way his lips drew in. You were sure you could watch this over and over again. He was so beautiful to you. You joined in on the laughter not being able to continue whatever charade the two of you had gotten into at that moment.
“You’re awfully pretty when you laugh like that.” Jake spoke up after the shared laughter between the two of you had died down a little.
Biting your cheek, you couldn’t stop the instant reddening of your cheeks. Jake was always good for that. Making you blush like mad but then doing absolutely nothing about it, “Are you flirting with me Jake?”
He nodded his head confidently, “Always am Y/N. Always will.” Shooting you another wink he squeezed your arm once more before dropping his hand from it.
Shaking your head, you decided to finally answer his question, “The top-secret information might be that we’re having a swim call tomorrow. As long as the weather holds up.”
Grinning ear to ear he grasped your shoulders, “You’re being serious?”
“As a heart attack.” You nodded your head. You knew why he was so excited. It wasn’t that often that these came around. You had to be lucky to be given a swim call. Some sailors were luckier than others getting to have a swim call on a few deployments. Some were unlucky as they never got one.
It just so happened that Admiral Simpson was feeling particularly kind that afternoon at the senior staff was meeting. Another captain offered it up as a reward and he’d agreed. He decided on tomorrow since there were no scheduled missions or training flights. What better way to relieve stress? He knew this deployment was longer and a little more brutal with the heat. He needed to make sure everybody was still levelheaded. What better way to reward the crew?
“Oh, hell yeah! The guys are going to be so happy.” His grin stretched even further if that was possible.
“You’re sworn to secrecy.” You shook your head, “The admiral would like surprise everyone tomorrow.”
His grin turned down into a devious smirk, “And you told me Y/N?” You were really feeling the heat now. Especially when he was looking at you like that.
“Don’t let it get to your big ass head Seresin.” You smiled right on back to him. Just one of the many things he adored about you. Your ability to throw it right back at him. You never backed down from the challenge. Even when you were backed into a corner you would continue to fight. Your tenacity was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Apparently, the Navy agreed as you soared up the rankings. Jake was sure you’d be a captain within a few years. Then an admiral not long after that. You just had it. Few did. You did.
“You’d never let it get too large.” He dropped his hands from your shoulders. You were about to protest but he did something he’d never done before. Something that caught you so off guard you weren’t sure if your heard had stopped or not for second. He wrapped you up in a hug. Gently he squeezed you into his chest taking a few deep breaths before he continued.
“You know how much I like you right?” Jake whispered so close to your ear you could feel his warm breath as it fell down your neck. God, why did he have to do this to you now? It was already hard to come up with words and now? Now it felt like an impossible task. He was pulling out all of the stops to send your brain into overdrive. You’d probably forget even your own name if he asked.
“Sure.” You hadn’t a clue what he meant. Like you as a friend? Like you more than a friend? You prayed for the latter but who knew? It could be the former.
As he chuckled you could feel the vibrations as they reverberated off his body onto yours. You could surely get used to hugs like this. Where you were completely wrapped up in his embrace. Where you felt so utterly protected, “I like you, Y/N. Like like you.” He nodded while grinning after seeing your utterly shocked face.
Yeah, your heart definitely stopped as you processed his words. It’s like he read your mind. Like he knew you were too much of a chicken shit to question his words. You could stand up to admiral and politely tell him to fuck off, but this felt more than daunting to you. This was your life, and you didn’t want to fuck it up with him. You’d had so many chances, what if’s, run ins with each other over the years. Was it happening this time? Were your craziest dreams actually becoming a reality?
“Wait really?” Was all you managed to spit out as your brain went through every emotion. Every scenario to this confession.
“Yes, really. Have for years darling.” He broke apart from the embrace observing you carefully, “I’m tired of waiting on a right time. There’s never going to be a right time. Especially when you’re you. Getting promoted every other year and shit.” He grinned pulling you right back into his chest.
“Not every other year.” You shook your head hiding it away in embarrassment.
He couldn’t really believe his own eyes. You so effortlessly standing in his embrace seemingly accepting his admission. He was tired of dancing the fine line. He was ready. So more than ready to take a leap with you. He was tired of being labeled the playboy, the flirt, the no-good boyfriend. He knew he could be great for someone. For you. It was time.
“So was do you say sweetheart?”
You pulled away from him this time giving him a soft smile, “About?”
“A date. A real date when we get off this boat in a few days. How does that sound?” He grabbed a hand stroking his thumb along your fingertips softly.
Nodding your head softly, “That sounds perfect Jake.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You squeezed his hand once more before beginning your exit, “Now go shower Lieutenant. No offense… but you smell.”
Shocked he strode forward towards you, “I smell? You’re getting it now. Time for a big hug.”
You giggled running from him, “Gotta catch me first!”
Shaking his head, he could only smile as you darted off towards your dorm. Oh, how he knew he’d fall in love with you quickly. He always knew he would once he let himself.
“Did you know about it Commander?” A woman you’d seen a few times around the carrier asked as you changed into your swimsuits.
“The swim call?” You played dumb. Of course, you knew what she was asking but it was much more fun to get hyped up about the whole thing over again. Morale was at a low point as the deployment neared its end. This was always the hardest time. When everybody just wanted to be home.
“Yeah.” She nodded while pulling a strap over her shoulder.
“Maybe a little. But Admiral Simpson just decided yesterday. Captain Flagstaff actually convinced him. It was a sight to see.” You smiled reminiscing on the friendly banter.
“It’s so cool that you’re a Commander and you’re like, our age.” Another girl spoke up from around the corner.
You smiled taking notice of her, “Right time, right place I suppose.”
“Bullshit.” The first girl laughed, “Your kind of a legend. What you and Mav pulled in Iran last year was insane!
You felt lucky to be alive. You probably shouldn’t be, but you never dwelled on it. You’d been given a chance and you ran with it. Ruthless and precise, never missing a beat. You were a commander after all, you had to prove your worth.
“Take calculated risks.” You offered up some advice for the young women who looked up to you. It was flattering albeit a little odd, “Now let’s go, we only get so much time in the water!” Grabbing a towel, you led the group out. You spotted Jake further off in the distance looking handsome as ever without a shirt on.
“Look at you.” You winked at him lowering your sunglasses. You’d always been overly flirty with the man but now? Now it meant something. Years of practice came in handy even as your nerves kicked it up a notch as his eyes traced your figure.
He shook his head, “You’re joking right? Look at you.” Throwing you a wink he desperately wanted to grab your hand, but he knew better. Not in front of all the Navy guys. It was probably already scandalous that the two of you were standing there alone.
“What? In this gorgeous Navy issued one piece?” You thought everybody looked fine in them. Not horrible not good. Just fine. But it definitely wasn’t flattering per say.
He shrugged, “You look good in everything sweetheart.” He whispered as a few people walked on by, “Always looking beautiful.”
“Hush, you’re making me blush.”
He laughed beginning to walk away, “That’s my job now darling. Now let’s go jump in the sea while we have the chance.”
“Lead the way.” You followed him towards the edge of the aircraft carrier. With a few railings removed you peered over the side letting people jump beside you. It was a long way down, but you’d done it before. Done it many times in training. Didn’t mean you necessarily enjoyed it though.
“Come on Y/L/N. Scared?” Jake threw you one last wink before jumping right off the side. He’d one upped you yet again. Dammit. You waited for the all clear before jumping right after him.
Resurfacing you quickly found the guy you were looking for smiling right at you only a little distance away. He certainly wasn’t being shy about it. The two of you had yet to really talk about what the other wanted but it felt right. It felt so right being around him. Like he was the other part of your magnet pulling you right into him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked once you reached him. Splashing him lightly. God the two of you were being so fucking obvious. But lucky for you nobody seemed to notice. Everybody too caught up in their own story, their own joy.
“I already told you. You’re so fucking pretty.”
“Don’t overdo it now Mr. Seresin.” You were smiling an unusual amount. You were usually so stoic and tight lipped. You weren’t doing your best hiding the new rush of emotions that were always sitting there waiting to burst right on open. Boy did they burst right on open the second Jake admitted that he actually liked you. You didn’t think you could hide the stupid little smile that didn’t want to drop.
“What? I can’t compliment my girl?” He gave you a devilish smile, knowing exactly what he was doing.
Your heart definitely skipped a beat in the water, “Is that what I am?” Raising an eyebrow your curiously looked at him as he pulled you in a little closer. You were sure it didn’t look good. Surely it looked suspicious.
“If that’s what you want to be. My girlfriend?”
You nodded, “I’d like that.” You whispered. God how you wanted to swim right over and kiss him. Why’d this have to happen in the middle of the swim call? Why not when you were on shore and could find a secluded spot away from the rest of the crew. There was one thing you were certain of. This’d be the most memorable swim call you’d ever have.
“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.” Giving your hand a squeeze, he made sure to keep an appropriate distance until you could get away on that date. It was hard but it was worth it. Anything was worth making you happy. Jake decided that then and there as he watched you smile swimming around in the sea.
#jake seresin fic#top gun maverick#top gun#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#hangman x y/n#hangman x reader#top gun imagine#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin#hangman angst#hangman imagine#hangman#hangman fic#top gun hangman#top gun maverick hangman#hangman seresin x reader#hangman seresin#hangman x you#top gun fanfiction#top gun masterlist#top gun 2
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petition for a film like challengers but instead of zendaya it’s me and the two boys are replaced by glen powell and miles teller specifically as hangman and rooster ✌️😌
#no need to applaud guys i know it’s a brilliant idea 😋🤭#i’m kidding#i need top gun summer to come again soon please and thank you#top gun summer#top gun maverick hangman#top gun rooster#top gun maverick#glen powell#miles teller#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake seresin#challengers
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