#jake hangman seresin x y/n

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 5

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Eventual smut and happy stuff. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 3550

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

JAKE POV

Jake sighs at the knock on his door and sits up in his bed. It’s too early. Last night was long, watching you struggle to not verbally defy his every attempt to help you. But your wing was inflamed, which would soon lead to your back becoming inflamed, and he knows you’re intelligent but is it so hard to understand that not taking care of the injury could mean infection? Being here does not make you immune to such ailments and yet you puffed and huffed and barely held your tongue at his cleaning the area and applying a bandage with ointment. And just when you’d had a conversation with him about you being good. Terribly disappointing. You better shape up if you intend to get what you want. 

“What, Javy?” Jake calls at the second knock. 

Javy enters Jake’s room and leans against the door after closing it behind him. “So? You taking her?” he asks. 

“Possibly,” Jake says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “There are stipulations, but she’s determined. She’ll do whatever she has to to get there.”

Javy raises a brow. “Does that explain her cozying up to you yesterday?”

A slight smirk sneaks onto Jake’s face. ‘Cozying up’ is definitely one way to describe what you were doing the day before, although your actions were nowhere close to how affectionate you’re capable of being. There is plenty of passion in that body of yours that a few soft touches don’t do justice, but for now Jake will take what he can get. 

“It does,” Jake confirms with a nod. “She’s my clever little angel, but manipulative attempt or not, it’s not like I’m going to push her away.”

“Oh no, of course not,” Javy snorts. “You? Do the respectful thing?” With a shake of his head, he lets out a low whistle to which Jake rolls his eyes. The sarcasm in his friend’s tone is wildly unappreciated.

“Do you honestly expect any better of me?”

“Not these days,” Javy says, “but is it so horrible of me to want you to see the error of your decisions and change? When I offered you a life here you were a different man.”

A different man. A weaker man. A man who had nothing left to live for. 

Losing everything he once cared about—that is what changed him, but who’s to say the man he is today isn’t who he was always meant to be? Maybe it burrowed inside of him long ago and was waiting for the encouragement to expose itself. And what is so wrong about that? That doesn't make him a bad man. 

He was a man who was missing the drive and purpose he needed. But then—despite being under the cruelest of circumstances—he found it. And when you find purpose you have to take hold of it and claim it any way you can before it’s ripped away from you. If Javy still can’t understand that then it must be the type of thing you have to live for yourself in order to grasp how it feels.

Jake’s eyes contain a challenge against his friend’s stare as he leans forward to brace his elbows on his knees and clasp his hands. “You try having Fate fuck you over, and then we’ll see the kind of man you become,” he says.

Javy sighs and crosses his arms. “I’m not denying the poor timing of your first meeting, but you coped with that for years, and now that you’ve snapped–”

“I haven’t snapped,” Jake snaps.

“Yes, you have. She was moving up in her life, finding some happiness, trying to make some friends at a new job, and then you took her,” Javy tells him, but not to chastise. That lecture was one Jake received weeks ago and Javy knows another won’t alter what has been done. “And you can’t keep her in The Tower forever. When this catches up with you—because it will—what do you intend to do?”

“She will love me by then.”

“You’re hoping she will love you by then,” Javy counters, “And you’re hoping when questioned, she’ll lie for you.”

Jake groans and shoots to his feet, running a hand through his hair. Gesturing in the general direction of your room, he says, “If she loves me then she’ll be lying for both of us because she’ll know it’s the only way we can be together.”

“And if she doesn't?”

“I'm not entertaining ‘if she doesn't’,” Jake says harshly. “She will. I’ll get rid of that stubbornness and she’ll remember why she wanted me in the first place.”

Javy pushes up from his leaned position, nearing the blond. “She wanted you because the two of you had some kind of carnal pull to one another, but–”

“It’s more than that,” Jake stops him. “We share more than that. She just refuses to see it.”

But you will. You’ll come to your senses. He knows that it’s more than sex, but it’s because of that sex that he believes something in you felt him over the years even though you did not see him. That’s why it was so easy to come together that night. You don’t sleep with just anyone. You’re picky and careful, as you should be, but you showed no reservations when giving yourself to him. You weren’t timid when he stripped you of your clothes; you were too focused on ripping him out of his. You weren’t embarrassed by your sweet moans and pretty cries. You were comfortable around him, and you will be again. 

When Jake realizes Javy hasn’t spoken, he shoves his thoughts aside and pays closer attention to the look directed his way. It’s a medley of emotions. Skepticism and concern. Cautious hope and pity and acceptance. Acceptance of what, it’s hard to determine. Impending doom, likely, since Javy’s so sure of its inevitability.

Finally, Javy blinks. His lips stretch into a thin line, then he says, “Be smart about this, Jake.” 

And Jake replies, “I’m always smart.”

“You're not,” Javy has no shame in telling him. “That's the problem.”

—

READER POV

“You can’t speak to anyone from your past, you can’t be seen by anyone from your past, you have to stay in my sight at all times, and you can’t do anything that would jeopardize our ability to return here on time,” Jake says. “You break any of these rules and I drag you back before midnight.”

Raising a brow, you cross your arms over your chest. “You think I can’t manage that? I’ve complied with everything you’ve asked of me for two whole weeks.” 

Everything down to accepting his cupping of your cheek one night as he nearly kissed you. He hadn’t though, and his reasons for pulling back instead of taking what he wanted as he’s so used to doing robbed you of four hours of sleep.

“I wouldn’t put it past you to go rogue,” he says. “But you can’t. There are actual consequences I can’t protect you from.”

Yes, you know. He has mentioned that often. “Consequences, Angel. There are consequences to not following the rules.” For the last couple of weeks, it has felt like hours upon hours of the same droning on, the same lesson as if your short-term memory is flawed. But then he’d thrown in “It's your first time, and there’s a chance you’ll forget everything I’ve told you the minute you touch foot down there. You’ll be tempted to break them.” 

That was what finally struck a cord of concern.

Of course, it had crossed your mind to break them, even though you’d known of Jake’s fate when he had done the same, but if he had to warn you of the temptation, you wondered how tempting it would really be. Would you be spending your precious, limited time there miserable because of the invisible chains on your wrists and ankles and the gag in your mouth as you try to resist the desperation to bond with the life you left behind?

“How tempted?” you had asked. 

You were taken aback by one look from him. A harshness was in the green, but you are no fool, and you could see exactly what it was concealing. A memory—pain. 

“Incredibly,” he’d told you. “At least, I was. And I paid for it.”

You hadn’t responded, but you kept his words in the back of your mind, ultimately deciding to trust in your strength. It was either that or risk never seeing home again, and that wasn't, and isn’t, an option for you. 

“I’m not going to do anything, Jake,” you swear. 

He peers into your eyes a little too long, but you let him search for the lie that isn’t there until he’s satisfied. He blinks and then gives a sharp nod. “Good,” he says. “Then close your eyes.”

“What?���

“Close them,” he repeats. “You don’t need to know how to get where we’re going.”

Another thing to comply with. Rolling your eyes, you drop your arms to your sides. Jake pulls a blindfold out of his jeans pocket and folds it in thirds. 

“Seriously?”

He looks up and steps closer. “Close, your, eyes,” he instructs again.

With a sigh you do as he says, then he wraps the fabric around your head, tying a little knot in the back. 

“This is–” Stupid, you were going to say, but you’re cut off by the yelp that escapes your throat when you’re suddenly lifted into his arms, your legs and wings draped over his forearms. 

“Hold on Angel,” he says. 

Your hands clasp behind his neck. “Yea, no kidding.”

When he shoots up into the air, you have to tuck your head against his t-shirt to block out the rush and whirl of wind that’s quickly encompassing you. It’s all too fast, the pressure much too extreme that you feel as if you’ve gained thirty pounds in ten seconds. It’s the initial take-off of the rollercoasters at the theme park you went to as a child. The kind of feeling that locks your limbs in place. 

However, it’s not long that you’re going up before you begin to fall back down at a speed that suggests the man holding you can’t fly and you’re about to greet the end of your life. The sharp change in movement twists and curls your insides. Your lungs are confused, unsure whether inhaling or exhaling would better suit you at the moment. You don’t know, so you don’t breathe. 

Jake lands with a thud and sets you down on wobbly legs. One large hand wraps around your upper arm; the other slips the blindfold over your head and back into his pocket. You’re well-hidden behind a large tree as your eyes adjust to the bright neon lights that bleed from the city night.

Home. You’re home. You’re at the far end of a sidewalk by the docks that no one visits after six o’clock in the evening, but it’s still home, and you already feel yourself being sucked in by the central bustle of bodies and cars. 

You take a step forward, much weaker than you intended, and Jake’s grip on you tightens. 

“Not yet,” he says. “You need to shed your wings.” 

That detail had escaped you, the excitement too overpowering. But you keep that excitement from showing on the outside, just as you had when he’d told you a few days ago that removing the wings was possible for you, too.

Standing taller, you prepare yourself for more instructions.

“Close your eyes again,” he begins, his voice a deep vibration in your ear. “Clear your mind. Create an image of your wings and the feathers plucking free, falling to the ground one at a time until you have no more. Picture the bone and cartilage crumbling,” he says. “And keep doing that until you feel the loss of the weight.”

It takes at least a full minute, but you’re lighter. When you look down, your feathers coat the ground, a few layered with his. Like ash and snow. 

“Good,” he says, but his tone doesn’t match the praise. It’s the slightest bit wounded as if he’s grieving something he held dear. 

You turn your head. Your eyes flick to his and you find them glued to your back—your back which is now bare of the one thing that shows the world you’re something other than human. 

His Adam's apple bobs. “Let’s go,” he says. 

“Where can we?”

“Anywhere that keeps you from running into someone that would recognize you or would’ve been concerned about your sudden absence.”

That definitely knocks out work, the old late-night cafe you used to frequent, the park on third—too small. But as far as you know, everything else is fair game. And if it’s not, you’re sure Jake won’t hesitate to inform you.

—

The temptation he’d warned you about isn’t as aggressive as you anticipated. It’s there, for sure, but you don’t find yourself itching to be bold. There’s no one you wish to see, and you skirt the perimeters of the locations you choose because of the thought that you might fuck up and give him reasons not to bring you back in the future.

He should be thrilled with your behavior. He should be riding one of his ego trips from getting you to do what he wants without additional scolding, but that’s not what’s happening. Instead, he’s worse by the hour. 

Occasionally his eyes light up when you smile or chuckle at the places and things you haven’t seen for the month that has felt like a year, but between your grins and laughs, his face hasn’t once failed to fall. 

He has taken to trailing behind you. If both hands are not in his pockets it is because one is running through his hair or down his face. To your statements, he hums. To your questions, he mutters answers. He hates it, you realize. All of it. Almost as much as you hate the place he has forced you to exist in ever since he took you.

His mood is only exacerbated by your desire to go to your apartment.

“Can you hold this?” you ask as you raise the window. “Won’t stay up, and maintenance ignored all of my requests.”

Jake nods, placing his hand on the base of the sill so you can ease yourself through the opening. You do the same for him as he steps off the fire escape onto the ragged carpet of your living room floor. 

You take in the space, and it’s so…weird. Not a thing has shifted from the place you left it. The only additions left out of the memory you’ve kept in your mind are the layer of dust coating every surface and the slip of paper under your front door with Eviction Warning written in red lettering. And the smell. It doesn’t smell like you remember. You’re not immediately soaked in the scent of lavender essence left over from the half-burnt candle on the side table.

“Feels like I’ve been gone forever,” you say. You look over your shoulder at Jake. “Does time move differently there and I just didn’t notice?”

His hands are back in his pockets. His eyes are tired. “No, Angel,” he says.

Your sigh fades into a hum. 

As you move about the room, you measure it all with your eyes.

Your couch. You always sat on the right. That cushion is more worn than the other two. 

The lampshade is still crooked from when you last changed the lightbulb. Its poor alignment had caused a slight burn mark in the material from the shade leaning against the heat of the bulb, and yet, rather than straighten it out, you had twisted it on its diagonal axis so the mark faced the wall.

The TV remote is nowhere in sight, of course, because you were never the best at remembering where you put it down; a habit so frustrating you’re tempted to hunt for it now. 

Your coffee table still has the scratch in the middle from when you’d dropped your mug onto the wood, shattering it to pieces. That had pissed you off. You’d just bought it from the flea market.

A mug—you’d left one out that morning. You turn your head to your kitchen where it still sits on the counter. 

You walk over and grab it. There’s a coffee ring in the bottom, so you take it to the sink and wash it out, then flip it over to dry on a dishcloth. You weren’t a fan of leaving dishes scattered about, even for half a day, but you don’t know why it ever mattered. Since moving in, no one had entered this place but you, and well…him. 

Suddenly, something deep and thick descends upon you. Though the space around you appears to have frozen in time from the moment you disappeared, there are things that did not freeze along with it that you can’t ignore.

Like the food in your fridge and the special chocolate cookies in your cabinet that the grocery store rarely had in stock. Rotten and stale. What a waste. 

There’s a plant in your bathroom—a little one that relied on your sense of responsibility to keep it alive. It sits on a shelf in a dark purple pot you’d found on sale and now brittle leaves surely litter the tiles. 

And, oh god, the cat. You used to leave a bowl of tuna out for the stray cat that climbed the stairs to paw at your window. What about him? Is he ok? Did he give up after being ignored? How long did that take? Did he feel abandoned? Does he miss you?

Bracing your hands on the counter, your head falls forward. You close your eyes and take a breath, and then you open them and—Fuck, there’s a cheerio on the floor. You forgot the damn cheerio; that tiny ring of processed wheat from breakfast that has been hanging out here in limbo wondering if it’ll be trashed or devoured by ants because you were running late that morning and told yourself you’d throw it out later but you didn’t and so there’s a fucking cheerio on your floor. 

You can’t look at it, but then you don’t know where to look, or what to do. You don’t dare go into your bedroom. The sheets will be rumpled. Your underwear will be wherever it landed when it was taken off your body and tossed aside.

Shit, the laundry! You forgot to take it out of the washing machine. Mildew probably grew in the creases and folds. They'll have to go through the cycle again. You'll need detergent. You're out of detergent—used the last of it on the load that needs to be rewashed. Your favorite t-shirts are mixed in there somewhere. But it’s fine. You’ll do a quick wash, quick dry, quick fold, and put them in the drawer where they belong. How long could that take? An hour? Two? You have enough time, right? And while you're at it you really should set some tuna out and get rid of the spoiled food and fix the lampshade and find the remote and apologize to the plant and–

“We can pretend, Angel,” Jake whispers from behind you, making you jolt in your spot. You didn’t hear his approach—he keeps doing that—and he’s so close that his breath flutters wisps of your hair. “Forget everything, for a bit. Be the way we were that night.”

His disruption sidetracks you from the laundry, the cheerio, the cat, the plant, the food. For a second, you can barely process his words, but it doesn’t take long for the confusion to sort itself out.

You swallow. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be human anymore,” you whisper, reminding him of what he has drilled into your brain again and again and again.

“You’re not,” he says. Then his arms are flanking your sides, palms pressing into the edge of the countertop. “But we look the part, don’t we?” Hot air is on your neck. You think you can hear his heart thumping. “Just tonight. Just here.”

Just here. Here, the last place you were before he made you into the creature you are. Here, the last place you can say that you were entirely you. Here, the last place you spent a happy moment. Your final happy moment. A moment that included him, back when you believed you were bringing home some guy. Just some guy. A beautiful guy. A human guy. 

You liked that human guy.

You miss that human guy.

Sometimes you wish he'd show up again. Save you and promise you it was all a nightmare.

“Why?” you ask.

“Don’t ask why,” he answers. “Just tell me yes.”

And because you don’t want to go back to thinking about what you’ve lost; because you’re uneasy and overwhelmed and numb and weak now that you're realizing home really isn’t home anymore but a ghostly echo of who you were, you don’t possess the mental wherewithal to care about your decisions. All you want is a memory—a good memory—within your reach. 

So you turn yourself right around, and you kiss him.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #demon!jake seresin #tgm fic #tgm #jake seresin x you

[ddejavvu]

I’d love to see a jake seresin x secret wife au. The dagger squad doesn’t realize he’s married until Phoenix invites reader out to the bar with them! Thanks you’re the best!!

You're reminded just how little you know Natasha when she invites you out for drinks, and you end up at the bar adjacent to the naval base. You've been inside only once with Jake before, when you were still dating and he was going through training at top gun. Now he's a graduate, and the place brings back fond memories. You've chatted, of course, when she stops by for breakfast at the bakery you work for, but you've never discussed her career before.

"Hope you don't mind we're close to base," She grins, "My friends wanted to meet here, and I get free drinks 'cause the bartender likes me. They have this bell system to embarrass all the assholes here, and I think I ring it more than she does."

"I've been here before," You admit, tentatively grabbing her arm as she weaves through the crowd, "My husband and I came here once, a long time ago. I don't think the bartender was a woman, though."

"She just bought the place a few years ago," Natasha nods, sliding onto a stool at the bar, "Careful, don't put your phone on the bar."

You tuck the device safely away in your pocket as a brunette woman turns to you, a sweet smile on her face as she recognizes Natasha.

"Hey, Phe," She hums, and you don't have time to ask what the nickname means, "Brought a friend?"

"I'm Y/N," You introduce yourself, noting that they seem like close friends, "It's nice to meet you. I'm Penny."

You nod and beam at her when she offers you an identical bottle of beer to the one Natasha takes. You decline, though, ordering your usual instead. Jake's out with his friends tonight, but he's pledged to be a responsible drinker in case you need to be picked up from your girls' night.

"Can I get, uh," Natasha peers through the crowd, turning back when you assume she's found her target, "Five more?"

"Fanboy's got one already," Penny hums, taking four chilled bottles from beneath the counter, "You want help carrying them?"

"We're good!" You wrap one hand around two bottles, trusting Natasha to lead you towards her friends in the hectic crowd. You don't remember it being this busy when you'd come with Jake, maybe the new management really helped.

She treks you all the way over to a pool table along the wall, where a few men in jeans and t-shirts are huddled. You're taken by surprise, though you're not sure why. You'd automatically assumed her friends would be women, and you wonder if that's concerning. Possible internal bias aside, you smile at the men who stand to greet you.

"Hello," You wave, handing off beers to the two that meet you first,"I'm Y/N, you're Natasha's friends?"

"We are," A tall man grins, holding a hand out for you to shake now that it's not wrangling beers, "I'm Reuben. But you can call me Payback, if you want."

Natasha still has one of the beers in her hands, and you hear the man beside her, who she greets as Fanboy, mention something about the bathroom. Apparently you still have someone to meet.

You refocus on Reuben, "Payback," You tilt your head slightly to the side, "Is that a callsign? Are you a pilot?"

"We all are," The man who'd taken the other beer from you nods along with Payback, a burnt red mustache on his lip, "Natasha's is Phoenix. And I'm Rooster."

Your stomach drops.

"Wait, uh- Rooster? And- and Phoenix, and Payback," Your head spins slightly with recollections of Jake's crazy work stories, and you take a step back, "Are you- you're all stationed to this base?"

"Temporarily," Rooster frowns, "Hey, are you okay?"

"My husband-" You don't get the words out before he emerges from the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks with a furrow in his brow that wrinkles his forehead.

"Darlin'?" He calls, just loud enough to be heard over the music.

"Jake?" You're equally incredulous, "I- these are the friends you're going out with?"

"Yeah, I-" He wanders closer, still at a general loss for words, "You know Phoenix?"

"Natasha gets breakfast at the bakery," You breathe, now that he's close enough to hear your dumbfounded murmur. You have an audience, but you don't care, not as Jake's confused expression melts into a sheepish smile.

"Well, small world. You look stunning tonight, honey."

"Thanks," You grin bashfully, keeping one hand on your drink and using the other to cup his cheek, tugging him down into a quick kiss. No matter how chaste it is, it gets a reaction.

"Oh," Fanboy gawps, "You're- her husband? You- Hangman, dude, you're married?"

"I am," Jake hums, ringing an arm around your waist and taking the beer from Natasha that she's too shock-stricken to hand to him. He pops the cap off on the edge of the pool table, bringing the fizzing mouth to his lips for a swig. He swallows, "Six years and counting."

"You're married to Hangman," Natasha- er, Phoenix repeats, "You married him?"

"Uh, I did," You laugh, twisting the ring on your finger.

"He never wears a ring," Rooster narrows his eyes at Jake accusatorily, "What, you're keeping her hidden away or something?"

"No," Jake scoffs, "It kept getting dirty when I was doing maintenance on my jet. I keep it on my dog tags, Bradshaw."

He brandishes the chain with both his ID and wedding band on it, and Rooster takes a swig of beer in response.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that, man? I don't stare at your chest in the locker room."

"Well you're missin' out," Jake drawls, turning to grin at you, "Ain't that right, honey?"

"Jake," You hiss, "Not here!'

"Oh, don't get all fussy. Most of these guys have seen my dick," He waves a dismissive hand in the air, nearly spilling his beer. You swear you hear someone mumble, 'unfortunately', but Jake drowns them out, "They don't care if we flirt. Hey, whaddya say we sharpen up those pool skills of yours?"

"Alright," You nod, letting him lead you over to the table, "Natasha, can you hold my drink?"

She takes it like it's her duty to protect you, even though your big strong husband has just bent you over the pool table. It takes you a few tries to be able to hit the ball at all with your clumsy grip on the cue, but when it finally cascades the colorful targets around the table, Jake whoops, landing a congratulatory smack to your ass that his friends groan at.

"Nice goin', darlin'. Gonna beat Bradshaw into the ground in no time."

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

[sunlightmurdock]

Hey, Neighbour! | DBF!Jake Seresin x Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Jake’s been having a problem recently, and when the power goes out next door, everything quickly comes to a head.

Warnings: dad’s best friend trope. Age gap. Reader is in her mid-20s, Jake’s around 40. Obviously unbalanced power dynamic. No use of Y/N. Reader’s dad has a name. Mention of reader having a piercing. Smut. Pure filth and pining. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Unprotected pinv. Creampie. Jake has no respect for his best friend’s furniture. Choking briefly. Please comment / Reblog, it’s greatly appreciated. Wc: 8.5k. Minors dni, you will be blocked.

…

Jake clicks the television off and pushes himself up from the couch, joined by his shadow of a German shepherd called Ace. They walk together to the sound of the meek little knock at his front door, Jake’s gym socks padding along his dark wood floors along the way.

It’s late. Too late for whoever is at his front door to be bearing good news. He twists the door handle and pulls it open, rolling back his aching shoulders. This late at night, he has a good idea of who’s going to be standing on his porch.

As expected, standing there and shivering in your dad’s coat and a pair of slippers, is exactly the last person that Jake was hoping to see.

You see, Jake has had a bit of a problem since he moved in to this neighbourhood.

Quite a substantial one, in the grand scheme of things, and one that seems to just be getting worse by the minute.

Suburbia was meant to be Jake’s reprieve from his bachelor lifestyle. His escapades have been worrying his mother to death for going on two decades now, and it came time that even Jake agreed that it was time to wisen up about his love life. With all of the deployments, and all of the time away from home, it had been beyond easy to never fall into anything serious. By the time he was twenty-nine, Jake’s longest ever relationship was two and a half months, which was alarming given the number of women he had encountered by then.

Two things happened that sent Jake here, to this cute little cul-de-sac in suburban San Diego, one — Jake’s job became more secure, and guaranteed that he would spend at least ninety percent of his remaining career here on the west coast. Second, he proposed to a woman. A beautiful woman, that he was so sure he was going to spend the rest of his life with.

She liked his house, it looked like the one her parents had raised her in. So, he bought the house and he bought a dog, and swore that he was going to try to settle down. Six months later, it was just him and the dog. Payton apologised profusely, and she’d apologise even more if he ever ran into her again, he just wasn’t right for her.

Things weren’t so bad though. Jake and Ace liked the peace and quiet, and the guy next door was actually pretty cool. Jack, the airline pilot with a mean golf swing and a great nose for the best sports bars in town. He’s a little older than Jake, with a hell of a lot more to show for it, including three grown up kids.

It’s been a couple of years now, and Jake’s practically part of the family. He knows everything there is to know. He’s there on birthdays, holidays, emergencies — he loves this family. But he has a problem.

His problem was manageable at first. So, Jack’s youngest daughter might have caught Jake’s attention at first. You were visiting home from college and you had stepped out of the car in a tight little pair of shorts and a tank top, and Jake just happened to be standing in Jack’s garage, helping him with a little project, when he first saw you.

And you were funny. Right away cracking some joke about Jake’s less than adept approach to projects around the house. Jake had laughed out loud without even meaning to, and then you’d turned your head and hit him with that mega-watt smile. Bringing new meaning to the term beaming.

God, that pretty fucking smile.

Your humour dances lightly on the nerves of others, like Jake’s, but sweeter. You’re well behaved and back then you had had a dreamy boyfriend who was in pre-med. Perfect in every way.

Even more reason for Jake to keep his hands to himself.

You were Jack’s kid. Jake wouldn’t ever cross that line. It’s just that sometimes… he had to remind himself of this boundary.

He hadn’t ever been close friends with someone where that was even a concern, and truthfully, he had been unprepared for meeting you. In all of the stories Jack told him, you were this cute little kid. Standing before him, you didn’t quite match the image he had of you in his head. This was truly uncharted territory.

Truth be told, there were times when Jake wasn’t so sure you wanted him to hang back. Even when you were still bringing that boyfriend of yours around, Jake caught the way you looked at him.

The way you tug those glossed lips between your teeth and grin around the straw of your drink.

If he was a better friend, or a stronger man, he might have been able to nip his little problem in the bud right away. He had tried, and you were living away from home then, so it was easier. But last month, you had moved back in with your parents and Jake’s life has been nothing but stress ever since.

On occasion, Jake thinks of how he would have to plead his case if someone discovered how he felt. You just don’t know what it’s like when she’s looking at me, man. I swear, I tried to stay away from her, I did.

It’s not his fault that Jack asked him to watch you while your folks were away on that cruise.

Jake’s gaze finally flickers back up to your wounded, hurt baby bunny, expression.

“What’s the matter, cutie? — You alright?” He reaches for you with one hand, gently grabbing at the crook of your elbow and guiding you towards him. That sad little look on your face tugs at his heart strings every time.

“Yeah, I just — I plugged in my phone charger and all the lights went out. I think I tripped a fuse,” All exasperated and frustrated at once, you push your hair back off of your face and frown at him. “Could you come take a look at it for me?”

Jake’s throat grows thick. Under your dad’s heavy work coat, Jake can see the thin white tank top you’re wearing and the blue checkered, boxer style pyjama shorts. But Jack asked him to take care of you.

“Yeah. Of course I can,” Jake nods his head and reaches down to tug at Ace’s black woven collar. “Come in a sec. I just need some shoes.”

There haven’t been too many occasions where you have been inside Jake’s place. Your dad comes here a lot and you’ve been sent over to collect him before dinner on occasion, or to deliver Jake some leftovers.

It’s warm inside, and it smells like woodsmoke and leather. He’s been burning the candle that you got him for his last birthday. You inhale softly, shrugging the coat closer to your body.

In the times that you have been over here, you’re always surprised by how tidy he keeps the place. It’s not what you would have expected of a single guy living all alone.

Jake pulls some sneakers from a tidy shoe organizer disguised to look like an end table and crouches down to put them on his feet. Leaning over, something catches his eye between the heavy fleece of your dad’s unzipped work jacket.

“Did you get your bellybutton pierced?”

The question startles you, drawing attention to the fact that you had been craning your neck and trying to get a look into Jake’s living room. You turn your head, blinking as Jake straightens up and takes a step towards you.

He reaches out and before you know it, his warm fingers are stretching out across your chilled, just exposed navel. His thumb brushes over your soft skin, brows drawing together as he examines the dainty jewelry pushed through your skin.

Swiftly, you take a step back and his hand drops away from your body. “I’ve had it for years.”

There’s a silence between the two of you. Jake’s going to be kicking himself for that for weeks to come. He shouldn’t have reached out and touched you like that. He shouldn’t be commenting on things your father wouldn’t approve of. You’re too grown up for that.

“Huh,” He clicks his tongue, reaching just past your side to grab his house keys from the dish by the door. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go take a look at those lights.”

The shuffle of your slippers cuts through the awkward silence as you cross Jake’s front yard and into yours. It’s late November, and a cold night in particular too. Standing in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, the evening chill makes Jake’s arm hair stand on end. As you walk ahead, your back to him, Jake wonders if it has the same effect on you.

Thinking about his best friend’s daughter’s tits. He wishes the shame alone was enough to knock the thought out of his head. He wishes you hadn’t moved home. He wishes you weren’t leading him into your dark, empty house right now.

The entire house is pitch black, but Jake tests the hallway lightswitch in passing anyway. He notes the dubious look you shoot him back over your shoulder. Then, he passes by you as you stop to take off that big coat. It’s not something he wants to hang by and watch.

It’s cold as his shoulder brushes yours, and not just because it’s November. You swallow thickly, staring after him until he disappears into the dark. Your feelings towards Jake are complicated.

Well, they’re not. Your crush on him isn’t the innocent middle school crush that you used to have on an older figure, like a teacher. No, this is far from doodling his name in your journal. This man, and his thick, ridged abs and golden chest hair, is working his way into your dreams.

After the break-up, you had sworn off men for a while — and that was the right decision for you. But, it left certain parts of you yearning. And Jake’s right next door. From your bedroom window, you’ve got the perfect view into his backyard. The same backyard where he’ll work out in the blazing heat, sweat glistening along his tanned skin, along the ridges and valleys of his muscles.

No, this crush is far from innocent. It crossed the border into indecent weeks ago, the first time that you touched yourself thinking about him. It wasn’t your fault; he was tempting you.

You had returned home from work to find Jake hanging out in the living room with your father, not unusual, and you had joined the two of them. Your dad had started with a playful comment about Jake. Jake had returned the favour with a witty remark about your dad. You were just joining in on the fun, poking playfully at Jake’s age.

All too suddenly, he had turned sharply to you and pinched the soft skin between your ribs and hip, leaning dangerously close with a smirk on his face that made your head spin. In fact, you still remember the way your mouth had hung open as Jake had breathed out a chuckle and shot you that playfully warning look.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” He’d challenged, that eager look in those wild green eyes, his cheeks dimpling just slightly, fingers pressing into your side.

Since then, you can’t help but think of him closer, and closer.

“Jake, wait!” You call, dropping the coat onto a hook and kicking off your slippers, starting to rush after him. Jake cranes his neck to look back at you over his shoulder. “You should probably show me what you’re doing. Y’know, in case it happens again.”

“Sure. Come here,” Jake jerks his head for you to join him, extending his hand for you in the dark of the utility room. You swat around until your fingers graze his, falling silent at the brash way he grabs hold of your hand and drags you closer. Your ass briefly brushes his thigh as he guides you in front of him. Jake steps back, clearing his throat. The little red dot on the fuse box illuminates his fingertips as he reaches past you. “This is the switch you want, don’t mess with anything else or your dad’ll kill you.”

The corners of your lips twitch. There are plenty of things your dad would be furious with, if he knew you had done them.

Jake’s fingers curl around the switch. His cologne fills your nose. His massive bicep is inches from your cheek, and everything feels like electric as his other hand comes to rest on the bare space between your shirt and your shorts. You’re trapped between him and the wall in front. If you would push your hips back just an inch or two…

“So, you flip the switch off to reset it,” Jake’s voice is all gravel from yelling at the young pilots he instructs, and shouting over the top of loud music in bars. It drifts past your ears and makes you want to shiver as his fingers curl around the plush of your hip. “And then you flip it back on for the power.”

Suddenly, the lights come back on in the hall outside of the utility room. Jake’s got you cornered against the fuse box really, and with the washer and dryer to your side, the only escape would be to rush out into the hall. You’re not quite ready to make that move. You can hear the amusement in his voice. He can feel the way you’re burning with awkward embarrassment in front of him.

“Oh.” You say quietly. Jake chuckles from behind you, his hand trailing about an inch higher, taking some of the fabric from your tank top with it, pinching playfully at your newly exposed waist.

“Happy to help, kid.” He’s already drawing back, his hand pulling away from your electrified skin, the sound of his shoe hitting the floor and alerting you to the fact that he’ll be leaving before you even know it.

“Could I ask you for one more favour?” You turn to face him, biting sheepishly on your bottom lip.

“Sure. What is it?” He’d retile your entire bathroom for you if you asked him to. That’s what makes him wish he was a better friend.

There’s an art to the way you bat your lashes at him, knowing better than to get too close or put your hands on him. Just that deep, pleading look in your eyes is more than enough. “Will you finish watching my scary movie with me? — Kinda… freaked me out a little bit when the lights went out, is all.”

“… Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can hang out for a little.” You’re a good kid, and it’s just a movie. He can’t leave you over here all by yourself, scared out of your mind, now, can he?

Jake wonders if this is what your father had in mind when he had asked his most trusted friend to just be there for his daughter while they were away.

That same, trusted best friend, sitting on the couch with his chin propped up against his palm, and that daughter’s head resting against his shoulder. You could have sat over on the other end of the couch, or even in your dad’s armchair, but that defeats the purpose of asking Jake to stay.

“Fill me in. What am I missing here?” Jake asks, mostly to fill the silence. His arm stretches along the back of your couch, his knees parted obnoxiously and his neck awkwardly straight to minimise risk of him laying his head against yours.

Your hand comes to rest against his middle, eyes focused calmly on the screen. “So there are two timelines. The present, and flashbacks to like… maybe ten years ago. Ten years ago, the family bought this mirror, and…”

Jake’s fingers inch their way into your hair, trailing softly over your scalp. Your fingers brush over his middle as he massages your scalp. He listens to you explain the plot of the movie like he isn’t thinking about the way your nipples are pressing through the white fabric of your tank top.

“Freaky mirror…” Jake muses over the concept of the plot, squinting his eyes at the screen, his fingers slowing to a halt in your hair as he turns his head to look at you. “You gonna be able to sleep okay tonight if we watch this?”

You meet him back with a sheepish grin and an innocent shrug of your shoulders. “Well, I already started, so I need to see that it ends okay, or I’ll be freaked out.”

“Alright. Just making sure you’re not gonna try crawling into my bed tonight after you have a nightmare.” Jake teases, pushing his knees further apart and sinking down into the comfort of the grey fabric couch he helped the movers bring in here last August.

He didn’t push you away when you sat right next to him and curled against his side. He reached out himself and stroked his fingers along your stomach.

Confidence surges through you like a wave, swelling big enough for you to giggle and press closer to him. “Come on, would that be such a bad thing?”

“What did you say?”

The swell has passed and the wave crashes just like all the others do, breaking over an otherwise calm sea. You swallow softly, growing exceptionally still.

“I was just kidding—“

Jake’s fingers leave your hair and curl instead around the nape of your neck. He turns his head, attempting to get a look at your face. “No, no. Say it again. What did you say?”

You shake your head, pressing it closer against his toned stomach. “I was just joking. You wouldn’t mind it that much if I had a bad dream and had to come sleep in your bed.”

He’s quiet for a moment and the movie draws tense. The main character is creeping around in the dark, the music is building, and Jake’s far too quiet for your liking.

“Don’t joke about that.” Jake says quietly.

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You answer him, hugging your cheek into the dark fabric of his t-shirt. That way, there’s no chance of him seeing the shame on your face. Going after your dad’s best friend— you should be ashamed of yourself.

Jake rubs a palm over the stubble on his jaw, trying to focus on the screen in front of him. This movie can’t possibly take much longer.

He knows he has upset you. You’re uncharacteristically quiet, and he can feel you trying to sit still. He shifts his hips a little, reaching out and resting his palm against your waist.

Your brows draw together as the main character bites into the apple she was eating and glass shards drop to the floor in front of her. Jake feels your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt. Sweat beads on the nape of his neck.

His thumb swipes back and forth over the inch of bare skin on your hip.

Jake glances down at you. Laying against his middle like this. It feels all too natural. He isn’t even paying attention to the movie. Truthfully, the only thing on Jake’s mind is how soft your skin feels against the pad of his thumb.

Imagining how soft your body would feel in his palms, every inch of your skin in his capable hands.

You gasp as the camera pans to the main character’s bleeding mouth, and the shattered lightbulb in your hands, twisting your head and burying your face in Jake’s shirt.

Jake flinches, his attention drawn back to the screen as his fingers curl into your skin. His face twists in distaste, groaning at the gore on the screen.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding about this being freaky.” Jake mutters with a soft shake of his head, shifting uncomfortably as his fingers massage at the pillowy skin of your waist. He swallows thickly, eyes dropping down to the way you’re nestled just above his waistband. He tries a weak chuckle, mind racing for something to lighten the mood. “What am I meant to do if I’m up all night after this, huh?”

You laugh softly against his stomach, pressing closer to the warmth of his rigid torso. Jake stares at the screen as he feels your open palm brush over his abdomen, fingertips grazing the waistband of his sweats by mere millimeters. He strokes your skin, setting his knees further apart by an inch.

Even with the score of the movie in front of you, everything feels so quiet. Even with the floor lamp to your right and the table lamp to your left, it all feels so dark. It all feels so slow. Truthfully, you imagine this is as close as you’ll get to understanding what it feels like to tightrope across Niagara Falls.

One misstep, a strong gust, the loss of balance in any capacity and its all over. The best friendship that your father has ever had, thrown away because you made a pass at a man far too old for you to begin with.

Then, Jake’s fingers break their almost surgically precise pattern. The tips stretch just slightly under the fabric of your tank top, reaching for the silken skin of your stomach. It’s brief, before they retreat to the safety of circling the skin that you’ve chosen to expose. You drop your gaze, watching all five of his digits follow their intricate pattern, and stretch under the cotton white of your top once again.

Maybe Jake notices that you’re watching him, or maybe he finally notices it himself, but he stops all at once. Fingers pulling back to rest platonically against your hip, green eyes trained seriously on the television, his lips stretched into a flat line.

“It’s okay,” You whisper without turning your gaze away from the screen. Jake doesn’t look at you. He feels your fingers brush across the top of his, curling through the digits, linking them together. “It’s okay, Jake. You can. I won’t say anything.”

Your parents aren’t going to be home for another eleven days. What’s Jake supposed to do until then, ignore your existence? — Avoid you entirely?

He wants this, and you’re on to him, giving him permission.

“Honey,” It’s caught somewhere between a sigh and a groan, an exhale of restraint and desperation all at once. He wishes he could at least pretend he’s half interested in this movie. “Don’t talk like that.”

Your brows draw together, eyes going wide as a child in the movie creeps through the house, headed for the master bedroom. Bloody sheets on the bed. A smashed plate on the floor. Jake’s hand gripping your hip. The child inches forwards, the music swells, a chill rushes down your back. In frame, the little girl rounds the edge of the bed and someone leaps out, bloodied and frenzied. Jake hasn’t been paying enough attention to gather who.

Neither one of you will care in a few moments.

The surprise makes you jolt, leaping up from your spot against Jake’s stomach, sitting upright all of a sudden, grabbing onto his forearm for support.

“It’s alright, cutie,” Jake breathes out in soft amusement, rubbing a heavy circle on your back. That’s the first thing he called you. When he’d seen you struggling to lift the icebox in the garage. Let me get that for you, cutie. And now, he has the nerve to pretend like it’s just you that has led the two of you here. “Maybe we should turn it off now, huh?”

Your heartbeat is already thudding in your ears and there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep after any of this. Fuck it. You turn, brace your palm against his shoulder, and take the dive.

Jake has thought about what those pretty lips feel like. Every time they stretch upwards into those pretty smiles, each time you sink your teeth into the bottom one. He should be prepared, in theory. Is there any way to prepare for something like this?

“Sweetheart…” Jake mutters against your lips, eyes screwed shut, hands reaching out for your hips. Pained, he gives a slow shake of his head. “Come on, we can’t do this.”

“But do you want to?” Your lips graze his. He feels the way you arch your back, knocking your chest into his, angling yourself in a way that just begs him to grab hold of your waist and drag you into his lap. You close your mouth, pecking softly at his still lips once more. “If you didn’t know my dad… you would. Right?”

Yes. Of course he would. He would be insane not to. He’s driving himself insane trying not to.

“But I do, and… and he trusts me.” Jake turns his head just slightly, but his hands reach for you. His big hands find your hips and grab onto them tight, hard. He just holds you right there. There’s got to be some kind of way he can regain some of the power here.

“I trust you.” You tell him, kissing his jaw tentatively. Delicate fingertips skim along the throbbing vein on the left side of Jake’s throat, reaching for the nape of his neck. Soft, slow kisses lead a trail to his earlobe, passing plains of stubble and angled bone. “I know you won’t hurt me, and I know you want me. It’s okay, Jake, I want you too.

“Fuck.” Jake swears, dropping his head forwards to rest against the curve of your shoulder. His fingers dig into your hips harder and harder. By the time Jake drags you forwards, his grip is so tight that you would have no choice but to follow. You fall into his lap, lips parted and eyes wide as Jake’s deep pine coloured eyes study your face.

You wait for him to speak again, but he doesn’t. Not for a long time. His fingers stretch up from your hips, reaching under the fabric of your tank top, extending across your bare abdomen. He stretches the brushed cotton further, taking it up with a gentle touch.

“Your father would kill me.” Jake muses as his fingertips graze the underside of your breasts, his eyes solely on your face. You smile back at him, only partly because your father is an airline pilot who couldn’t bench half of what Jake does on a good day.

“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

Jake grits his teeth. It has started to rain outside now. That storm that channel four had promised is starting to roll in. The movie will be over soon. The rain will be the only sound on this entire street. This house is completely empty, beside the two of you. He exhales through his nose and pushes his hips up. He’s half-hard under you, and giving you another disapproving shake of his head.

“Little fuckin’ minx…” Jake curses you, his words fanning out across the span of your exposed neck, hot and cold all at once. “You get off on teasing me like this, or something?”

A smile works its way across those pretty lips. Jake could see more of that smile than he sees sunsets and he would still be pretty damn content. Your nails rake softly through the almost buzzed fade at the back of his head as you give a shake of your head.

“Well, it’s not teasing if we take care of it,” Your shoulders rise and fall in a soft shrug as Jake’s fingers trail further upwards, taking your tank top with them and exposing your breasts to the cool autumn air. The rattle of the air conditioning unit that your dad tells you not to mess with reminds you of the real culprit as your nipples harden and perk with the exposure. You lean back, bracing each of your hands on Jake’s knees, arching your chest out, letting Jake see the newly exposed skin. “If you’ll let me.”

His eyes are pretty when he smiles. When he’s staring at your tits, they’re hooded and hungry, a shade of green that threatens to draw you in and hold you captive. What a happy captive you would be. His hands grab at both of them at once, squeezing roughly at the supple flesh.

All at once, his mouth is on yours too. He’s sucking at your bottom lip, growling into your mouth. He smells of smoked wood and he tastes of scotch. It paints half of a picture. A lonely man sitting in his home alone on a Saturday night, burning a candle given to him by a girl half his age and drinking liquor older than he is himself.

You’re straddling his hips now, your bare thighs squeezing into the fabric of his grey sweatpants, pulling yourself closer with each hungry kiss. Jake’s touch is experienced, expert; he pinches softly at your nipple, anticipates the way your mouth will draw open in a soft gasp, and licks into your mouth the second that it does. He sucks softly at the tip of your tongue, revelling in the feeling of your soft breasts in his hands.

“Arms up.”

You’re such a good girl. The way that you comply with a wordless grin and bite at your lip once the tank top hits the floor has Jake in even more trouble than he was before. He kisses softly at the space between your tits, pushing them together in his hands, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue into your skin.

Men like boobs. Big boobs, small boobs — your shared gossip sessions with friends in college always led to the same conclusion, men don’t care. They bite, suck, grab regardless of size. It shouldn’t be anything new. But then Jake reaches your left nipple. His right hand palms at the underside as his tongue swipes in a circular motion, just before his lips clasp around the sensitive bud.

You know he’s watching you through those esurient green eyes, but you find yourself playing right into his capable hands anyway. Any leverage you may have had in seeming like his charms don’t work on you are washed away with the dulcet tone of your first moan. It spills from your lips, your nails pressing into the nape of his neck as Jake sucks expertly at the sensitive skin.

He pulls away with another ravenous exhale, something between a sigh and a groan. His hands feel heavy on your body as they paw at your chest with a capability you’ve never encountered before. His cologne is expensive and mature, a smokey blend that has you intoxicated and enthralled. His mouth is wet and eager, but oh, so slow as it explores the areas of you he has dreamt about.

The rain outside is growing heavier, like it’s learning to mimic the deepness of each of your breaths. The movie must have finished by now. Neither one of you is going to check.

His stubble prickles, rough and masculine, abrasive compared to the adept caress of his tongue. His right hand grabs forcibly at the nape of your neck, drawing the sweetest little squeak from your already open lips. You knew he would be better than the guys you’ve been with before, but not like this. He hasn’t even touched you yet.

Jake’s lips seem to pinpoint each and every nerve ending in your chest, sucking and licking at your skin through feverish kisses. The tenderness seeping away each time a breathy moan falls from your mouth, fanning out against his clothed shoulder. He pulls away from the top of your breast with his teeth, already knowing, in his years of experience, that that’s going to bruise.

Jake lifts his head, letting his eyes drift shut as you lean forwards and press your mouth to his neck. He can feel your nerves in your trembling fingertips, in the way your chest shivers when it brushes his, in the way your lips suck at his pulse point. But you’re doing so well. Dragging your lips along the length of his neck, biting softly at the skin just above his collarbone, feeling him shiver at the sensation.

“Off.” You demand, grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt, feeling him grin against your jaw. He complies wordlessly, grabbing at the back of his shirt and yanking it over his head.

You’ve seen Jake shirtless plenty of times, wandering around his property or opening the front door without shame. You’ve always wondered what those muscles, that dusting of golden chest hair, would feel like up close. Forgetting that you’re being watched, your hands explore his toned torso. The line down the middle of his stomach, the sharp divide of his collarbones, the swell of his pecs.

“What’re you thinking?” Jake asks, brushing your hair back from your face tenderly, concern coating his features.

A bashful smile spreads across your cheeks as you watch your fingers ghost along the thick muscle of his shoulder. “That you’re really hot.”

Jake breathes out a chuckle, reaching up and grabbing at the back of your neck to cradle you against him as he pushes up from the couch and turns quickly, planting you on your back and covering your body with his.

“That smile is gonna get me in big trouble, sweetheart,” Jake wastes no time in pressing his mouth to your stomach, holding you by your waist as he sucks filthy kisses into your skin to mark his path downward. “You know that?”

“I know.” You answer back, just to tease him this time. Jake stops at your waistband as you giggle, looking up at you through hooded eyes with a devilish grin on his face. He drags his teeth across your hip, hooking his fingers into the sides of your shorts and tugging them down your legs.

“God, honey, you weren’t wearing panties this entire time?” Jake exhales, eye-level with the most intimate part of you and completely unashamed. Your mind fumbles for an answer, lips getting into position to finally respond when he leans forwards and licks a stripe through your soaked core. Then, he moans. His hands grab fistfuls of your soft waist and he goes in again, lapping hungrily at your excitement, groaning against your sensitive skin.

“O-Oh… Jake.” Your voice trembles, knees trying to press shut around Jake’s broad shoulders. He grabs firmly at your thigh, closing his lips loosely around your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud and making you jolt against him.

“Yeah, honey?”

“That feels really fucking good.” You tell him, closing your eyes finally.

“Attagirl. Just hold on, girlie, I’m gonna get you there.” He promises without once diverting from his apparent mission. If he’s as devoted to the Navy as he is to making you cum at this exact moment in time, the military is lucky to have him. You’re soaked, excitement pooling between your legs. Jake already knows he’s going to spend tomorrow cleaning this couch, and he wishes he cared enough to make better decisions.

“Look at this,” Jake breathes out as his gaze falls back down to rest between your legs. He couldn’t care less about the fucking couch. You swallow hard, practically aching for his touch. You’ve waited so long already. His index finger dips between your folds, his brows raise as he gathers your excitement on the tip of it. “Making such a fuckin’ mess for your old man’s best friend. Dirty fucking girl.”

He can’t see the way his words make you grin, but he can feel the way you reach for his hair and tug softly at those blonde roots, begging for more. He’s more than happy to give it to you. Jake groans against you, working his tongue in soft circles around the throbbing bundle of nerves. His eyes are still on you. Your eyes are closed — if you look him in the eyes then you’re going to get all embarrassed, and you’ll be damned before you let someone ruin how good this feels. Especially not yourself.

Jake’s hand trails up your naked torso, pawing at your rising and falling tits as you pant into the chilled air, sweat beading on your skin.

He’s gentle between your legs. More gentle than he could be. Pressing his stubbled mouth firmly against your core and working his tongue against you, each languid movement making you keen into him. The tip of his nose bumps your clit periodically. It feels like your head is spinning.

Dragging his mouth back up to your sensitive, throbbing clit, his free hand slides between your legs, he dips the tip of his index finger into you, then slides it in up to the knuckle and curls. Just testing the waters. It’s enough to earn him a moan, enough to have you grab a fistful of his short blonde hair, ensuring that he doesn’t get ahead of himself and lose pace with his mouth.

He slips his ring finger into you alongside his middle whilst his tongue works confidently along your core and back up to your clit. He lets go of your thigh and rests his forearm across your stomach, keeping you nice and still for him. Maybe he should feel ashamed of himself for how much he’s enjoying this.

All of those times he enjoyed the sound of your laugh, and sat with the afterthought of how much he’d enjoy the sound of your moans. It’s hard to be ashamed when it turns out he was right.

He scissors his fingers inside of you, making you gasp louder this time, pulling against him. You tug at his roots, he moans against your clit. You both shiver, and not because of that now thundering storm. Jake’s tongue flattens as he drags it along your core. He pulls his fingers from you and puts them immediately to work, taking over the pace on your clit, burying his face between your legs, curling his tongue into you.

Jake growls against you, his cock growing now uncomfortably hard in the confines of his sweats and his fingers and mouth switch places once again. After all the time he has waited, he doesn’t deny himself the pleasure of looking up at you, writhing at the feeling of him between your legs. All that does is make his sweats feel even tighter again. His fingers fuck into you mercilessly, curling and twisting, making you keen into his touch and arch your back and gasp all at once.

You cum with his name on your tongue and your fingers in his hair. The comedown feels like weightlessness. Jake doesn’t bother to ask if that’s the first time a man has made you feel like that, the adoration in your eyes as he comes in to kiss your mouth tells him everything he needs to know.

His mouth tastes like you, his chin is wet with your slick and his cock is straining against the grey cotton of his sweats, pressing in to your stomach. Jake’s fingers brush your hair back softly from your forehead, a sudden calmness in the green of his eyes as he studies the peaceful euphoric smile on your face.

“We don’t have to go any further—“

“Stop trying to be a gentleman.” You huff, lifting your head and kissing him hard, hooking your legs around his waist. Drawing him closer, you’re both painfully aware that the only thing stopping him from touching you is his sweats. “I want you.”

Jake pauses for a moment. Rain slams against the windows, and the television goes dark as it passes into standby mode. His hands squeeze softly at your waist, eyes darting downward at your naked body under his. He would be a damn idiot to say no to everything he has been fantasising about.

“You keep condoms here?” He breathes out.

Your eyes light up before him, gleaming with mischief. You give a confident nod of your head as a cunning little smirk spreads across your lips.

“There are some in my parents’ bathroom,” You can tell right away that he doesn’t like that idea, but that’s okay, option two was by far your favourite anyway. “Or, you could just cum in me. I won’t tell.”

“Jesus Christ.” Jake drops his head forwards to rest against your naked chest, panting out a dry laugh. His fingers bruise into your middle as he starts to consider the choices that have led him here. Once he feels composed enough to look you in the eye again, he lifts his head and squints seriously. “You did not just say that.”

“I want you to. I’m on birth control anyway.” Long gone is the nervous girl standing on his porch and asking him to fix her lights. There’s a devious, lustful look in your eye and Jake’s pretty damn sure there’s magic in that look. All he knows is that it could make him do just about anything you asked of him. “Please?”

Jake swipes his thumb along the curve of your jaw, studying the depths of your irises for just a moment. He leans forwards and kisses your bottom lip, sucking at the plush skin, pulling away with his teeth. You swallow as he sits back, pushes his sweats down his legs and frees his swollen cock. From under him, you’ve got the perfect view.

Every ridge and valley in those impossible abs, each follicle of hair that lines his tanned chest, trailing down below his navel and sitting neatly around his pubic bone, trimmed just as neatly as his navy-standard hair cut. His cock is a good size, considerable even when he’s got one of his large hands wrapped around its base. Wide too, throbbing red at the tip, bending just slightly to the left.

Just looking has your mouth running dry.

Fisting his cock, Jake sits back on his heels and lets his gaze fall down to your glistening core once again. He looks down at your pretty face, then lowers himself between your legs, pressing his chest into yours, kissing you dizzyingly hard.

“You want it?” Jake asks one last time.

“I want it.” You answer him, smiling softly back at him, squeezing your thighs around his hips.

You’re looking up at him with such trust in your eyes that Jake can barely stand it. His heart thuds in his chest as he guides the tip of his cock between your folds, hesitating just briefly. There’s already no coming back from this. There’s no way to make up for the things he has already done. You’re so special, and he wants this so bad.

Your mouth sucks softly at his throat, quiet, pleased sounds spilling from your lips as he grinds the tip of his cock against your sensitive clit. Jake kisses your shoulder softly, then lowers his head to rest there as he drags his cock down to your warm entrance. You gasp softly as he presses into you, pushing forwards until he’s buried and stretching you open completely.

“Oh,” You whimper against his earlobe, pressing your nails into the swell of his shoulder blade. “You feel really fucking big.”

“So fuckin tight.” Jake grunts, his throat thick with desire as he stills inside of you, thumbs bruising into your hips. “Sweet fucking girl. Feel like you’re made just for me.”

This makes you smile into the curve of his jaw, humming in soft agreement as he starts to slowly rock his hips. Lightning flashes outside of the window, and it doesn’t matter one bit. The rest of the world is a million miles away. In here, it’s just the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” Jake shivers, eclipsing your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss, licking into your mouth as he drags his hips back until it’s just the tip. You gasp sharply against him as he snaps his hips forwards until he’s buried into you completely once. “Fuck. You like that?”

“Yeah. I want it like that.” You whimper into his skin, hugging your legs tight around his hips. You moan eagerly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply, drawing an excited squeak from your parted lips.

Jake grunts, rocking himself into you hard and fast. He’s waited so long for this, and so have you. The way you’re clawing at his back makes him want to give it all to you. Leaving feverish kisses along your collarbones, he fills you over and over. You curl both legs tighter around his waist, leaning your head back as far as you can against the couch cushion to give his lips better access to your throat.

The living room is filled with the sounds of your sex. Your desperate moans, panting and hard. Jake’s pleasured grunts, muffled softly by the curve of your shoulder. His skin slapping yours. It smells like him, smoky and mature. Sweat beads along his back and his forehead as he keeps up that merciless pace, fucking you so hard that you couldn’t tell him your own name anymore.

Jake pulls back just enough to grab the backs of your thighs and pin them to your chest, hooking your knees over his shoulders, filling you even deeper than before, making you cry out.

“Jake!” You beg, babbling incoherently into the curve of his shoulder as he goes right back to the pace he set before. Fucking you hard and fast, scrambling your brain to the point that the only thing on your mind is the ravenous way he’s staring down at you.

Your walls are squeezing around him perfectly and the sounds you’re making are just driving him insane. It’s been a long time since Jake felt as crazy about someone as he feels about you. He pants into the crook of your neck as his fingers tug at your hair, making you moan out even louder.

“I’m gonna cum — fuck, honey,” Jake grunts out like he’s been punched, his eyes screwing shut as he reaches between your bodies and rubs uniformed circles around your clit. “Are you close? — Can you cum one more time for me?”

“Yeah,” You breathe out, already trembling as you squeeze your thighs tighter around him. “Just—“ You don’t have the words, so you just reach out and grab his hand. Jake swallows hard as you wrap his open hand around the column of your throat and look up at him with that big, trusting look in your eyes again.

He grits his teeth as he squeezes at the sides of your throat, watching your sweet face contort in pleasure. Your hand dips between your legs and replaces where Jake’s had been, rubbing feverish patterns on your clit. Your stomach tightens in knots, your breathing grows heavy and Jake’s cock drives into you at just about the perfect angle each time. You open his mouth to warn him, but it’s already too late. You couldn’t find the words if you tried.

All you can do is grab onto those thick shoulders and cry out his name against the salty skin of his neck. Jake slows just slightly, offering you some reprieve through your sensitivity. Trying to be a gentleman once again. The brain fog starts to clear, you lift your head and press your lips to your earlobe.

“Cum in me,” You pant out, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself. Jake groans against your chest, nodding his head feverishly. “Just like that, Jake, please.”

He’s relentless, fucking your through the sensitivity of your post-orgasm haze hard enough that grabbing onto those broad shoulders is the only thing that keeps you down to earth with him. Jake groans desperately. He wraps an arm under your back and pulls you as tight against him as physics will allow. You gasp softly, taking your lip between your teeth as he fills you, his cock throbbing against your walls. He seeks out your lips and kisses you hard, somehow more desperate now.

“Fuck, honey…” Jake breathes out, pressing a lazy kiss to the curve of your jaw. He makes no effort to move at first. “You alright?”

“Better than alright.” You answer contentedly, a soft smile toying at your lips as lightning flashes outside once again. Jake chuckles tiredly, lifting his head and kissing your lips.

He sighs, moving slow as he slips out of you and looks down at his cum dripping from between your legs.

“Oh, shit!” You realize, sitting up quickly and trying to reach around Jake for something to clean it with. He hooks an arm around your waist and pulls you tight against him. Truthfully, from the moment that you had laid your head on Jake’s abs, you hadn’t thought once about the consequences of fucking him right here in this spot.

“Forget it, I’ll — I’ll fix this,” He tells you calmly, already regretting that he’s going to have to live with what he has done on this couch. “Come on, cutie. Let’s go take a shower.”

It’s clear that this is foreign territory for you. Not the sex, but what comes after. He didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t run away with regret for what he did. He ran soap across your body and found your pyjamas for you.

You swallow softly, walking to sit on the edge of your bed. Jake runs a hand along his stubbled jaw as he lingers in the doorway to you room. You can’t help but notice that he got dressed again. Including his shoes. He looks you over, sitting there in fresh pyjamas, staring at him with that worried little look on your face.

He hasn’t ever seen your room here. It’s probably the one room in the house he has never been in. He’s been wondering what it’s like.

But that isn’t why he’s standing there. He sighs softly and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I should go — I mean, Ace is over there by himself.” Jake says quietly. You nod at him. You should probably say something too, but truthfully, not all of your words seem to have come back into your mind yet. “Are you coming with me?”

“Huh?”

“Well, I don’t wanna leave you over here by yourself after that weird ass movie.” Jake answers you with a shrug of his shoulders. “I figured you could just spend the night. If you want.”

Your mouth twitches at the corners as you push yourself up from the edge of your bed, nodding eagerly at him. You’ve got eleven days until your parents get back in town, and Jake permitting, you’re planning on making the most of that.

…

#jake hangman seresin #Jake hangman Seresin smut #Jake hangman Seresin x reader #Jake hangman Seresin x y/n #Jake hangman Seresin x you #Jake Seresin #Jake Seresin fic #Jake Seresin smut #Jake Seresin x you #Jake Seresin x y/n #Jake Seresin x reader #dbf!Jake

[topgun-imagines]

His Little Girl

Requested: No

Summary: You knew that Jake would be the best father to your baby girl. He didn't hesitate to prove it.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy, hospitals, & mentions of blood.

Pairings: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x wife!reader

Jake Seresin was an amazing father. You thought that this would be the case, but the past few days were nothing but proof. Your entire pregnancy, Jake had been right there by your side. With every craving, every bout of morning sickness, every time you needed to feel the weight of your growing baby lifted from your shoulders, Jake was there. The whole nine months, all the way to your labour, he was the perfect husband. Not once during your 22-hour labour did he leave your side. 

Regardless of his caring tendencies during your pregnancy, somehow, Jake was even more caring the second your baby girl was born. Around 4:30 in the morning, Aimee Rose Seresin was born, weighing 6 pounds 7 ounces and perfectly healthy. You and your husband couldn’t have been more happy. Early that morning, for only the third time since you had met Jake, you saw tears filling your husband's eyes. 

When the nurses took out your little girl to do blood tests, Jake immediately ran down to get you something to eat. Jake arrived only seconds before the nurses did. He helped to prop you up and sort out your meal before Aimee was passed over to him. You watched with unlimited adoration as your little girl snuggled into his bare chest. You finished what you could have easily considered the best meal of your life before relaxing back onto your pillows. Within seconds, your eyes were slipping shut and you were drifting off into a peaceful sleep. 

You woke up a few hours later to the same sight of your baby girl asleep on her daddy’s chest. A soft smile grew on your face at the sight of your sleeping husband. Luckily, Jake had set your phone beside you before Aimee was handed to him. You snapped a quick picture and set it as your lock screen. You had never been more in love than you were now. 

Mere seconds later, the nurse walked in to check up on you. Your husband woke up slowly, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “How are you doing, dear?” The sweet elderly nurse questioned as she reviewed your vitals. After only a few minutes, you were left alone again with your family. 

Your husband was standing now, walking toward you while rocking your little girl softly. Not only did Jake hold your little girl like she was the most precious thing in the world, he looked at you as if you hung the moon and the stars. In that moment, you could easily see how much he loved you. His eyes held untamed adoration as he set your little girl on your chest. 

“I love you so, so much, honey.” He whispered to you gently as he leaned down. A chaste kiss was placed on your forehead. 

The soft moment between the two of you was often one that you returned to when Aimee woke up crying in the middle of the night. However, even in those times of frustration, you knew that your husband was beside you every step of the way. 

Thankfully, you only had to stay in the hospital a few days longer before you were allowed to go home. Those few days flew by in a breeze, Jake being a large help through the whole process. You knew the history that Jake had with his father, so you were more than proud of the fact that he was already such an amazing father. The fact made you smile softly, watching your husband love on your little girl once more. 

Unsurprisingly, the ‘hot dad walk’ that you had been looking forward to since you found out you were pregnant did not disappoint, far exceeding any expectations you could have had. The sight of Jake carrying your baby girl out in her car seat had you swooning for your husband all over again. You waddled behind him slowly, happy to watch him walk away. When you finally arrived at the car, Jake made sure to let you know that he knew exactly what you had been staring at the whole time. Your cheeks were rosy the entire ride home. You sat in the back seat with Aimee, watching her sleep soundly as Jake made the slow drive home. 

Every few minutes, Jake would check on the two of you. “How are my girls doin’?” he questioned, not taking his eyes off the road. Another smile lit up your face as her tiny hand wrapped around one of your fingers. 

“We’re doing perfect Jake. She’s perfect.” There was nothing but pure awe on your face. In that moment, Jake thought the same about you. You were the light of his life; absolutely perfect just the way you were. He chose not to say anything, smiling softly at the thought of his new family. 

A few minutes later, Jake was pulling into the driveway of your home. He hopped out and pulled your door open, helping you out before he grabbed your baby girl’s car seat. She was passed over to you as Jake collected the rest of your belongings from the back seat. 

You sucked in a soft breath, grasping your husband's hand as you brought your baby girl into the house for the first time. Aimee slept soundly in her car seat, unaware of the happiness building in your chest. Your family was home. 

Together, you and Jake brought her up to the cozy nursery. Jake had spent weeks putting it together, dragging Bradley and Bob in at various times to help him assemble the furniture. The sight of three large aviators bent over pieces of a crib in a pretty pink room made you giggle more than once. As Jake emptied the contents of the hospital bag onto the changing table, you set Aimee softly in her crib. One of the tips that the nurses gave you was that when the baby was sleeping, you should be sleeping. After the exhausting few days you’d had, you certainly weren’t one to disagree. 

Seeing that Aimee was peacefully asleep in her crib, you and Jake grabbed the baby monitor and headed down the hall toward your room. Your husband pushed the door open for you, chuckling quietly as you flopped onto the bed. You offered him a tired grin. 

Mirroring your smile, Jake set the monitor on the dresser and walked toward the bed. “Hey there, pretty girl,” There was a loving look in his eyes as he climbed onto the bed beside you. His fingers began to trace delicate patterns into the soft skin of your stomach. “How’s my beautiful wife doing?” 

Offering him another smile as your eyes fluttered closed. “I’m doing amazing Jake,” You whispered, “Thank you so much.” You squeezed his hand softly. Even though you didn’t directly say it, Jake knew exactly what you were thanking him for. You may have not been able to see it with your eyes closed, but the smile on his face showed exactly how much he loved you. He didn’t have to respond; you knew he would do anything for his girls. 

A/n: Thank you for reading! Requests are open! I’ll start tagging people again once I start writing more <3

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake smut #jake seresin angst #jake x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin smut #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin fluff #jake x y/n #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman fluff #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #dad!jake #dad!hangman #hangman fic

[bradshawssugarbaby]

Just What I Needed - Jake Seresin x Reader

a/n: here's the part two to Got My Mind Set On You, as requested by @mamachasesmayhem 🤍 this can also be read as a standalone fic!

pairing: Jake Seresin x reader

warnings/content: literally smut with no plot. p in v, fingering, praise kink, calling Jake by his rank.

word count: 1.3k

taglist: @avengersfan25 @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @dempy @b-bradshaw @ahopelessromanticwritersworld

The car ride home from the bar had been quiet, Jake’s hand resting firmly on your thigh the whole way, his fingers grazing the inside of your thigh just enough to make you sweat. You felt a fire beginning to brew in your core in anticipation - you knew exactly what this meant. From the moment you started teasing him in front of his friends, using his attraction to you to make him lose his game, you knew what you were doing. 

Jake pulled into the driveway, pulling his hand away from your flesh as he killed the engine. He got out of the truck, and for a split second, you almost wondered if he was mad at you - you knew it was all an act though. He opened the passenger side door for you, grinning as he offered his hand out to help you down. Instead of helping you graciously to your feet, however, Jake pulled you in as close as physically possible, your back arching against the arm he’d wrapped around you for stability. He gave you a passionate kiss, the kind that left you breathless, gasping for air but all the while, desperate and hungry for more. 

He let go of your frame, your light-headedness from the kiss making you feel unsteady on your feet for a moment. As you regained your balance, you began heading for the door, Jake’s hand delivering a playful, yet firm tap to your ass as you headed up the steps. You squealed in delight at his touch, prompting him to do it again.

You giggled as you kicked off your shoes at the door, secretly thanking yourself for deciding on platforms at the last minute, making it easy to ditch them as fast as you could. Jake’s tall, muscular frame pressed into you, backing you up against the wall of the hallway. His hands wandered up and down your sides as his mouth found yours, locking you in with a passionate kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip with his teeth, grazing the sensitive skin ever so slightly. 

You moaned into his kiss as his hands reached up for your chest. He grasped at your breasts, squeezing them firmly as his large hands cupped them over your shirt. He grunted as he kissed you hungrily, lips trailing down your jaw. A mess of hot, sloppy kisses made their way to your collarbone as Jake continued to knead your breasts with his hands. His mouth peppered the tops of your exposed breast with more hungry, open-mouthed kisses, each one feeling a little more desperate than before. Jake’s actions made it clear - he needed you. He craved you. 

His mouth trailed its way back to your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin as he spoke in a husky whisper. 

“Fuck, sugar, I can’t get enough of you,” he rasped as his hands made their way to your hips, gripping them tightly as he held them against his own. 

Jake got down on his knees, grinning up at you before roughly shoving your skirt out of his way. He positioned himself between your legs, his tongue licking a painfully slow, sensual strip up your wet folds, collecting the arousal that had begun to gather there. He hummed his lips against you, sending a shockwave through your body as you felt his mouth vibrate on you. A loud whine escaped your parted lips as you placed your palm flat against the table beside you to steady yourself.

“Fuck, Jake!” you cried out as he drew soft circles around your clit with the tip of his tongue. 

“Tastes so fuckin’ good, hun,” he mumbled against your skin before pressing his lips to your clit, sucking at the sensitive nub before pulling away, panting. “So fucking good.”

You could practically feel Jake’s smirk against your skin as he spoke. Your mind raced as he pressed two of his thick, long fingers into your dripping hole, thrusting them into your g-spot with precision and skill. You cried out his name again in the midst of a flurry of moans and curse words, unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure building within you. 

You felt your thighs begin to tremble and shake as you drew closer to your orgasm, a sign that Jake had picked up on as well. You could feel him smirking against you again for a brief second before he began fucking his fingers into you harder, faster. His lips made contact with your clit again, alternating between hard, powerful sucking and slow, gentle tracing with his tongue. 

“Shit, Jake, fuck,” you managed to get out before you felt your walls clench around his fingers tightly.

“That’s it, you pretty little thing. That’s my girl,” Jake purred as he continued to pump his fingers into your core. 

He pulled them out of you, leaving your arousal dripping from you. You looked down as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean with his mouth before pulling them out with a loud pop. He grinned up at your flushed face, a sense of pride in his eyes as he claimed responsibility for the mess he’d made of you.

He stood to his feet, broad hands fiddling with the belt buckle on his jeans while you tried to pull yourself together as best as you could. His belt hit the floor, the sound of the metal buckle clattering against the hardwood echoing through out the house. Jake shimmied out of his jeans and boxers, kicking them off in a desperate frenzy. He stroked his hardened length, a bead of precum forming at the tip. You smirked at him, swiping the white pearl off the head with your thumb before wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking it with just enough pressure. 

Jake grunted and pushed your body against the wall, causing you to let go of him. He roughly grabbed at your thighs, cupping your ass in his hands as he lifted you up, back firmly pressed to the wall. Jake pushed his tip past your swollen folds, groaning as he felt your pussy stretching around him.

“That’s m’girl, making room for me t’fit, huh?” he drawled, refusing to move his hips until you responded. “So tight, honey girl, you feel so fuckin’ good on me.” 

“Jake, please,” you whimpered desperately, hopelessly trying to grind your hips against him to urge him to start thrusting.

“Mhmm? Can’t hear ya, pretty girl. Speak up,” He teased as he pulled himself out of you slowly, leaving just the tip inside of your pulsing cunt. 

“Please, Lieutenant Seresin,” you whined. 

“That’s better, atta girl,” Jake praised as he thrust his hips forward, his cock pounding into you. 

He began to fuck you rhythmically, his hips moving faster and harder, thrusting deeper each time into you. Your walls began to tighten and clench around him, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as you gripped him tightly, screaming his name out. Jake let out a deep growl as he pumped into you, a sign you knew meant that he was getting close. The usually mouthy pilot could easily be reduced to nothing but a grunting, babbling, pussy-drunk mess. 

“Fuck, you feel like fucking heaven, feel so fucking good,” he rambled, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as he came inside of you. 

Breathlessly, he pressed one of his palms flat against the wall as you set your shaking legs back down on the floor. His olive coloured eyes blinked twice, trying to pull himself together. Jake reached a hand up, wiping the sweat beads from his brow before raking his fingers over his flushed, rosy face. He looked at you, a glazed expression in his eyes as he admired you. 

“That’s my girl,” he said calmly, smiling blissfully as he put a hand on your cheek. He lovingly stroked his fingers across your flushed, warm skin before leaning in to kiss your forehead. 

“That’s my girl.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman fic #hangman x you #hangman #hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin smut #jake hangman seresin smut #hangman smut

[twinklelilstarkey]

Fucked Up - Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Words: 5.3k+ Type: Smut Summary: Hangman makes a mistake in training that could've cost your safety, and you've had enough of his way of being. Warnings: Fem!Reader [no mentions of race or bodytype]. Mentions of a possible accident in the jet, being a naval aviator, and lack of teamwork. SMUT [sex in communal shower, piv, no protection (she's on the pill), risk of getting caught, hair pulling].

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

By clicking to read more you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and mature enough to read mature scenes :)

Jake knows he fucked up. Truly, fucked up bad. He has been called out by people like Phoenix or Maverick about how he’s not exactly a team pilot. He has always begged to differ. He has always been there in the case of emergencies and helped people out when they needed. Yet, his thick skull could never really understand how bad he is in tests or training.

You and him never really became friends in the years that you’ve known each other. You are closer to Phoenix and Fanboy than anyone else, but Jake likes what he has with you. It’s a healthy mixture of playful banter and insults whenever you two fly together.

You tease one other on everything. It has been like this for years and never changes. Jake likes to have someone to annoy. It’s just a little extra something for his ego to have someone that actually fights back.

Yet, even in the middle of all the fights and bantering, he always loved the way you would crack and eventually shine a smile at him. You would always turn your head so he wouldn’t see and think he won something in your discussions. And, even when it’s not as common as he would like it to be, he thrives on every bit of those days.

There are also other days that he swears that you are flirting with him. It may be after a few beers, but he indulges every word.

But, today was different. Whenever Jake screws up with you in the air, he gets an earful in the coms. He's your wingman, he’s supposed to make your flying feel safer by either his coms or his firepower.

Yet, not only is it difficult to keep up with his speed - something Maverick made sure to switch you up with Phoenix since you seemed to have an easier time with it -, he is almost dead silent the whole time.

If doing canyons and pulling 4G’s on each wasn’t bad enough, having to follow a reckless speedy pilot who doesn’t even get to use his coms whenever he needs to is simply a bonus you get to have. Jake is able to communicate, sometimes, but not always. And that is exactly how he messed up today.

He was going too fast because, even though you were constantly telling him in his ear to slow down, you were able to keep up with him, and he likes that. He thrives on that too with absolutely no shame. Yet, speed and tight spaces don’t go too well. The two of you were too close for the speed you were going in and, as soon as Jake noticed how close he was to the side of the mountain, he didn’t have time to say anything and simply decided to pull himself off.

You had good reflexes. You were able to not hit the mountain, but when you pulled off from Jake’s back, he also moved, meaning that you had to pull much farther back. If adrenaline wasn’t already high in your body, it was so much worse now. You almost hit Jake.

The circuit that you had to do is tight. It leaves no space for errors, and you two just so happened to do one.

Right as you were pulling away from Jake, you pulled upwards and directly in range of the missiles. A voice in the coms informed you right after, and your hold on the stick tightened with anger.

Your backseater was the one to explain in the coms what happened to Maverick, and Jake continued on with the course nonetheless.

You don’t think you’ve ever been so angry. You expected that as Jake continued on and you were left in silence on your way back, your anger would cool you down, but it didn’t.

You were annoyed. It was a mistake, sure, but one that could’ve been avoided with communication. If the two of you had reacted at the same time, this would’ve gone well. You probably would’ve finished it. But, no... Now, you have to try it all over again tomorrow.

Minutes later, you are still quiet in the coms, not really finding any strength in you to speak after what happened, but you still speak enough to do your job.

“You alright there, Chaos?” Hangman asks through coms.

You don’t answer, but your backseater does once noticing your silence.

“We’re good.” He said for you.

Jake lands before you, which you're happy with since it means he will be out of your way when you leave your own jet.

You let out a little breath as you wait your turn to land. With the golden sunlight hitting your face, you are silent, still trying to get yourself back to normal.

You’re called in for permission to land after a few minutes, and you easily do so.

It takes everyone some time to get out of the landing strip and then park the F-18, but you only feel relief when you're done.

The canopy hisses open as you calmly unstrap yourself, and the light breeze hits your face. You let your backseater leave first, and, only once he's a few steps back, you make your way off your seat and down the ladder.

Helmet off your head and get ready to leave, you're facing the building where the locker rooms are. You really only need a shower and go to bed. You truly do not want to have to deal with anything else.

No one really says anything to you, knowing it’s better to just leave you to cool off. Yet, not even ten steps after, you already hear a familiar voice in the wind.

“Hey, Chaos!”

You didn’t look over your shoulder, you simply ignore everything. And seeing you walk away without a word to everybody was worse for Jake than your silence in the coms. He was waiting for your lecturing and your disappointed sighs, but neither ever came to his ears.

He watches you walk away, unstrapping some of the things across your chest with a helmet in one hand as you do it. Jake waited with some hope in his heart for you to turn to him and just scream at the top of your lungs. But you never began to think to do such a thing.

Jake walks off from the conversation he was just having, not even remembering to excuse his abandonment in the first place, and starts over to you. You don’t turn to see whose steps are getting close, you only push the door of the building open and walk inside, not caring to hold it for Jake, behind you.

When he is able to get in as well, he takes a look at you. He doesn’t say anything and you don’t ever look at him, not even when you have to turn around the corner. Your eyes don’t ever lift to his, and your mouth doesn’t ever open.

Deep down he knows you wouldn’t listen to a single word if he spoke. Hangman never apologizes for any of his fuck ups. He simply finds excuses on why he fucks up. Never even comes close to muttering the word "sorry". And, because of it, you do not care.

As you get to the locker room, you expect him to stop following you, but you are very wrong. Jake walks side by side with you and stands there watching as you open your locker and begin to unzip your flight suit.

You unzip it at your thighs, undoing the laces right after, and Jake just stands there, watching you ignore him.

No one really gets in the locker rooms at this time, and you know you two were the last ones in the air today. You're completely alone with him for a good following minutes.

Right as he opens his mouth to speak, words are said by you first.

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jake shuts his mouth and looks at you as if in shock. He feels a little bit of every emotion bubble in his chest, but the fact that he got you to talk just now, it’s still annoyingly a win in his book.

“Come on. Don’t be like that.” He says to you, and you hear the smile on his words. God, as if you could get any angrier. “Can you at least look at me?” He asks.

You slip your arms out of your flight suit, appearing in your white tank top, and continue ignoring him. The suit stays secure on your hips, and Jake begins to think of something else he could do.

He needs to ignore all that is going on in front of him. Ignore the way your skin is shining under the light because of sweat, how tight the tank top is to your chest, and especially how he can very much peek into your shirt on accident from where he stands.

“About what happened-” He tries again.

You stop moving to speak.

“But I do not want to talk.” You speak slowly, “Nor do I want to see your stupid fucking face, right now. So… leave.”

As soon as you had let anger get the best of you as you spoke, even when it was just a slip-up, you regret everything. Insulting someone like Jake was like adding fuel to a fire. It doesn’t make him angry, it excites him.

“My stupid fucking face, uh?” He repeats, and you don’t answer him.

Jake begins to move. In fact, he doesn’t walk away from where he stands, but his arms and hands do the work. Jake Seresin is beginning to undress too.

Your eyes quickly go over to him, but he’s not looking at you, his eyes are focused on every strap he’s undoing and every lace he’s untying. As soon as his hands come back to his chest, you force yourself to speak.

“What are you doing?” You ask him.

Your eyes meet and neither of you tries to look away. You just stare at one another. The looks of both of your eyes clash. Your hardened eyes are filled with anger, and his with nothing but mischief.

“Getting ready to shower.” He answers easily.

“This isn’t your locker room.” You remind him.

“I need to get you to talk to me, don’t I?” He says, pulling at the last strap on his chest as he finishes the sentence. “Nothing like making you have to see my stupid face for a little longer to make you talk.”

You watch him for just a few seconds, and Jake finally unzips and slips his upper body out of the suit. He has a tank top under it as well, but his tan skin shines with the light, and his ridiculously muscular arms and shoulders reach your field of view.

“I’m not talking” You assure him.

“And why not?” He doesn’t stop with the undressing, but he keeps his gaze on you constantly.

“Well, if you haven’t noticed already. I’m fucking mad at you.” You tell him, “Now, leave.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“Leave.”

“Just talk to me.” He tells you, a grin appearing as he says that to you, his hands pausing the undressing.

You force yourself to look away and restart your undressing. The message is easily received by Jake as well. It’s entirely weird how neither of you even hesitates on continuing with stripping.

You’re one step ahead with the process as you now stand in the locker room with just your tank top and underwear. Jake swallows dry at the sight of your legs, but he keeps on going strong.

“You-” You begin to speak once more, ready to remind him that he cannot take a shower here and the many reasons why, but something stops you.

Jake’s shirt flies over to the bench beside you, and you swear that you have to hold your head in your hands to not blatantly stare at his naked chest. You slow down your breathing, trying to seem absolutely calm and collected, and, to your every bit of distaste, Jake notices it.

“I what?”

“You can’t shower here.” You tell him while staring forward into your locker. At this point, you’re spitting your words with anger. “Your stuff isn’t here.”

He stays quiet for a little bit and, out of habit, you look at him to find a reason for his silence. He offers you a shrug with a tight lipped grin, dismissing whatever you just said as if that wasn’t a great argument against his decision. As id someone will take a shower without something other than water.

“I’m sure we can share.” He tells you all so seriously.

You look at him for a little longer, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and finally turn your entire body to face him. You two stand just a few inches away from each other, but neither of you hesitates or thinks of taking a step back.

You carefully look at the door of the room, scared that anyone could very much walk in on both of you, even when, deep down, you know how improbable it is. And then look at him, forcing yourself to remember what he did and how risky today was only because of him, and soon, annoyance covers your face again.

“Leave, Hangman.” You tell him in a low and stern tone.

He lowers his head so that the two of you stand eye-to-eye and he whispers, trying to match the low tone of your voice.

“No.” And his perfect white smile shines on his face.

You grab your towel from the bench, and as you go to grab the rest of your things, you pretend to forget about the man that is standing beside you. The same one that is just now standing in his boxers. You swear that you don’t even order your eyes and head to turn, but they try.

With all of the things you need in your hands, you hold them close to your chest, and you notice him step a little closer, leaning his shoulder onto the metal door of your locker.

You finally are ready move to the showers and slam your locker closed, turning your back to him. Jake is right on your tail yet only after a few seconds of distance due to his sight-seeing. You put down your towel by the last bench, the one closest to the exit, and enter the white room of the communal showers.

You can’t believe he’s still following you.

You put some things down on the ground by the shower head you’re going to use, and look over at Jake. The two of you standing in minimal clothing, looking at each other as if to see who will be the first one to pull out. It's a bad plan since the start because the two of you are the most stubborn people on the entire base.

You bring your hands over to your tank top and pull it up, throwing it over to the bench - right on top of your towel. Next up is your bra, and even Jake turns his head just in time to give you privacy.

It’s unbelievable how the two of you actually finish getting undressed and, without any hesitation, turn on the water.

If the two of you weren’t already tense, the cold water didn’t really help your case.

As the water turns automatically off (navy showers), you grab your soap and casually just lather yourself with it, acting as if everything is totally normal.

Your stomach turns and twists, yet also bubbles with some sort of anxiety as you stand near Jake. Jake eventually needs the soap too, and it doesn’t help that he takes it from your hands right as you’re done with it. The feeling of his larger hand against yours made some sort of heat run through you. His hand is larger, more calloused, strong, and with surely longer digits. Okay. You need to calm down.

“Let me know if you need help washing your back.” His voice echoes in the open room.

You pathetically aren't able to hold back a grin with his words.

“I’m sure you’d love that.” You tell him, trying to sound bitter.

He doesn’t answer, and you find yourself looking at him. Your grin is already gone. Jake is looking at you in the eyes, but your staring ends as you move to turn back on the water.

It’s difficult to have to keep looking at him in the eyes when his body is right there. When his hands are moving over his muscular arms, his hairy chest, or his abs.

The cold water shuts off your mind right away, calming down the heat of your own body. Jake doesn’t look away as quickly, but he finally has to force himself to do such a thing. He needs to stop thinking about how the water is washing and running down your skin, the way the soap must have looked all throughout your body, or the way your hands could feel on him.

Jake turns the cold water as well and looks at the ground as it hits his warming skin. You look at him for just a second as you finish up with the rinsing off the soap. You watch him as he closes his eyes under the water, and you shake your head while looking away again. Your staring will get you in trouble.

Your water is cut off shortly after, and you look over at Jake. He’s already looking at you. You don’t look as mad anymore, but he knows that as soon as he mentions the training again, which he will have to eventually, all of it will go down the drain.

“Can I have my soap back?” You ask him, seriously.

Jake smiles at you and right as he’s about to hand you the soap, his water cuts out, leaving you two to stand in silence. You bring your hand closer to his, and you carefully grab the soap from his palm. Your fingers touch, even with so much effort.

All of the warmth the two of you were able to wash away with the cold water has now come back, stronger than ever, right as the two of you stand completely naked before each other and try keep your eyes on each other’s faces.

“Still mad at me?” He asks over the overbearing silence.

You expected his words to reawaken your anger, but they don't. You still have some deep-rooted anger bubbling down when you remember the exact moment of your error as a team, but not as strongly as before. You look at him for just a little longer and shrug.

“Wouldn’t you?” You ask him fairly, “If I were the one that screwed up?”

“Maybe.” He nods, voice still low, “But not for too long.”

You almost laugh at his words. Jake Seresin is one of the biggest perfectionists of all time. Any pilot is, yet he takes the cake. He hates every time someone screws up his perfect timing, his perfect mission, his literally anything. You know he's lying, through and through.

“Is that so?” You ask him, tilting your head attentively.

His eyes quickly look over at your collarbones as he stares at you. Your words are enough to pull at his full smile, and, soon, his eyes are back on your face.

“Always.”

You hum at him, obviously doubting everything, and he is only more amused by it. You two stare at one another for a little bit in the same silence as before.

“Am I your favorite, Seresin?” You ask him. “Must be. With how quick I’m able to be forgiven.”

He chuckles at you, and you smile.

“Depends... Who’s your favorite wingman?”

The real answer floats in your mind, but you definitely have other plans.

“Rooster.” You nod as you speak, but your smile is your biggest enemy. It makes it obvious to the blonde that you never lied so hard in your life. “He’s the safest.”

Jake takes a step closer with your words and his perfect smile still shines on his face. You look up at him, noticing how the two of you have totally grown more than natural about your lack of clothing, and force your own entertainment to not seem so apparent.

“Is that so?” He asks, and you nod, “Safest.” He repeats as if he’s testing the word out loud.

He leans his head down closer to yours, worsening the heat spreading over your body, and you stare back at him.

“He never put me in danger.” You recall back at him, “Whereas for my second favorite…”

“Second favorite?” He smiles at that too.

“Coyote.” You smile back, “He's less safe, but still up there as one of my faves... And then, there's you. The worst of them all.”

He chuckles in your face at your choices and then nods.

“That’s fair.” He comments, “I actually had Phoenix as my favorite this whole time.”

You smack the side of his head for that and it makes the two of you laugh. Your eyes fall on the skin of his chest, and you take in the view. When you look back up, Jake catches you red-handed. Two complete seconds of silence and both of you with only one idea in mind.

Your lips touch and your heart practically jumps out of your chest. Jake was the one to close the space between you two. Your hands slide over to his neck, and you don't hesitate to kiss him back. Jake’s hands lay across the skin of your sides, and he pulls you closer.

Your naked bodies brush against each other, and Jake is the one to move you two around, while still in the kiss, and lean you against the wall.

Jake’s tongue touches your bottom lip and, as soon as you open your mouth and your tongues touch, the whole demeanor of the kiss and your touch changes. Your grip on the back of his neck, pulling him down harsher and closer to you; and Jake’s rough hands running through your body, touching every bit of skin he can reach.

Your fingers run through his wet hair, pulling at the strands when the kiss roughens exactly how you want it to. You sigh when Jake pulls away from the kiss and his lips begin to move down your neck. He bites onto the skin that he notices you to be more sensitive.

One of your hands comes down from his shoulders to his chest, running through his perfectly sculpted body, feeling every hilt of muscle as your other hand still grips onto the strands of his soft hair. Jake comes back up to kiss your lips, and you let out a soft moan. One that makes Jake’s whole body react as the vibrates against his lips.

He pulls away from the kiss and, for a split second, the two of you look into each other’s eyes.

Jake grabs your hips and turns you around.

“You’re on the pill, right?” He asks, and you sigh your answer.

“Yes.”

You lay one of your hands on the tiled wall and take a discreet deep breath, trying to hold yourself together.

Jake never really leaves your body untouched. His lips come back to kiss your shoulder, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he moves up to your neck and jaw. You lay your hand on the back of his head as he’s close enough, and his hands continue to grip your hips.

You arch your back, leaning closer to him as Jake continues to kiss your neck. His hands on your hips slide across your skin and feel one of them move in between your legs. His palm lays over your pussy, never trying to not do anything further, and you lean your forehead on your outstretched arm.

His fingers slide in between your folds, and you cling to his hair all over again. His middle and ring finger slide down to meet your entrance and he groans on your neck at the feeling of your juices covering his fingertips.

His other arm wraps around your torso and pulls you flush against him, letting you feel his cock, already hard, behind your back.

Jake’s fingers slide slowly inside of you, and you gasp. They're a severe difference from your soft hands, but that only worsens your ability to stay quiet and still. His fingers are much bigger and rougher than yours.

He begins to move them inside of you, letting all of your juices wet his skin, and then you feel his thumb over your clit.

You lean your head back, biting down at your bottom lip to stay quiet, and your head lays against Jake’s shoulder, exposing your neck further to his mouth. His fingers move inside you, curving and sliding into you. All in ways that make you have to fight the urge to close your legs, and that is soon abandoned, as Jake notices.

“You want to cum on my fingers first, sweetheart, or-” He asks against the skin of your neck.

“Just fuck me, Jake.”

He smiles at your words and before pulling his head back, he makes sure to nip at your abused skin one last time. His fingers are pulled out of you, and you groan ever so slightly at the fast action.

Jake maneuvers you with such ease that you almost don’t notice the way he pulls you away from him ever so lightly, lifts your hips, and just aligns the tip of his cock with your cunt. The arm he had around your torso stays tight, and slowly, you feel him slide inside of you.

Jake’s hand flies and covers your mouth faster than you expect him to and you cannot keep yourself quiet for much longer.

Any noise in the showers echoes. Anything. Any noise seems louder than it really is in the room. And when you have to control the sounds that leave your mouth as Jake slides his cock inside of you, it's harder to keep quiet. Much harder. He’s bigger than you thought, a lot bigger, and you swear that you feel like being slowly ripped in half.

The hand you have on his head comes to hold onto his wrist, feeling his soft skin against your palm. Jake gives you time, leaning his cheek on the side of your head, trying to control his breathing too as he feels your smooth wet walls squeeze him with anything he does.

After some time, Jake begins to move his hips and you hold onto him tighter. His thrusts into you make you close your eyes and lean your head back further, feeling and loving the way he stretches you and already fucks you so well.

His movements gain speed and remaining quiet gets harder for Jake too. He holds back any grunts or groans, he closes his eyes tightly and holds you closer to him to fight the urge of letting anything past his lips. Soon, the sound of his thrusts is also audible in the room and no matter how much you two try to hide it, they’re there. Everything is so silent, you can hear the sound of your skin slapping loudly and both of your heavy breathing.

A little moan escapes both your lips and Jake’s hand as you feel his dick directly hit your g-spot. It sounds like a little scream, even though muffled, it still echoes and makes Jake almost feel himself go entirely crazy. He leans his head back against yours, and repeats what he just did, secretly wanting you to slip up again. And he accomplishes exactly that.

Your hold on his arm gets tighter and soon your hips move against his as he drills into you. You continue to let out soft little noises, all of them echoing through the room and possibly ruining your plan to stay secret to everyone that could be outside of the locker room. The walls of your pussy have grown impossibly wetter and tighter around Jake, and he knows that you’re already close.

It’s all a mixture of the pleasure from the sex with the risk of getting caught. It all makes another type of adrenaline course through your blood. Your every action can be risky as you can be very much caught by anyone that could either need something from the room or simply clean it. Any of your superiors can walk in on you two too.

You sob out a moan against Jake’s palm, and he forces you closer to him. He uncovers your mouth for just a second and uses his hand on your chin to turn you to him. Your lips and tongues touch into a messy and sloppy kiss. The two of you almost can’t even concentrate enough to do it. You force yourselves to stay quiet, and you feel like you’re going to explode already.

Jake covers your mouth again and feels you grind your hips against his every time you connect. Your walls squeeze him tighter and tighter, and your small moans become louder underneath his hand. Jake never falters on his thrusts, sliding his dick back and forth inside of you just like before, and, with just one harsher thrust, you come undone around him.

Jake covers your mouth, trying to make you stay as quiet as humanly possible, but your moans do spill. A hand can only muffle so much, and Jake is secretly praying to hear every single one of them, fighting his urges to just uncover your mouth entirely.

Your walls squeeze him so tight, and you move against his body in tiny spasms in a way that it doesn’t take Jake much longer to cum as well. He brings the arm he has around your torso over to your hips to hold you in place. You let moans spill out due to the overstimulation, and Jake’s thrusts get faster yet sloppier with each one going into you.

His head comes to the crook of your neck once more, and your hand comes back to cling to his hair. The small pain of the pulling at the strands drives Jake to his last needed stimulation, and he finally feels his muscles contract much tighter than before. You grind your hips against him, and Jake finally reaches his climax as well.

Your movements never pause, no matter how tightly he holds onto your hips, and the ropes of his cum fill your insides. He groans onto your neck and you turn your head to pull him into a kiss. The kiss is softer than before and you’re the one that dominates it, this time. Jakes kisses you back and even chases your lips whenever you try to pull back.

Jake loosens his hold on you and you two finally pull away from your kiss. He disconnects your hips, and you gasp out loud at the feeling. Jake eyes you down as he does it, watching his cum slowly slide out of you, and the image alone makes him close his eyes to stay sane.

You turn back around slowly as Jake still holds onto you, and your chests are held flush together. The two of you are breathing heavily while looking at one another, and he’s the one to break the silence.

“I better be your favorite wingman, now.” He whispers, his tone never so serious.

As if he wasn't already.

Hope you enjoyed this!

#jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x yn #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x fem!reader #glen powell #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #jake seresin imagine #hangman imagine #hangman smut #hangman x you

[katsu28]

hi baby! could i request "[ NUZZLE ] sender presses their face into receiver’s neck" with hangman please! ily<3

LOLA!!! thank u for requesting ily ily <33

jake "hangman" seresin x reader, 1.3k

Jake was finally coming home after a full seven months away on deployment, and you’d never been so excited (and anxious) to see anyone in your whole life.

Seven months of sporadic video calls with shitty audio and even shittier video, seven months of sending emails whenever he could and letters even less often. Seven months of waiting for the love of your life to come back to you, safe and sound. 

Sure, some days were worse than others. Some days you could barely carry on normally with things because you were so worried. Some nights you had nightmares about getting that one letter, that one knock on your door that would send your whole life crumbling to the ground. Some days all you could do was sit on Jake’s side of the bed, clutching one of his shirts to your nose just so you could remember what he smelled like. 

But today was not that day. Today, Jake was coming home. 

You smoothed your dress out nervously as you waited with the rest of the people with family members or partners returning home today, rocking back and forth on your toes in barely contained excitement as you watched the ship dock in port. 

Your eyes combed through the crowd of naval officers and civilians alike, searching for that head of perfectly coiffed hair sticking out above the others. 

The chatter of the crowd around you dulled to a muffled blur of noise the second you laid eyes on him. He hadn’t seen you yet, his own gaze still flitting around at the folks reuniting with their loved ones all surrounding him. His brow was furrowed in the utmost concentration, and you almost wanted to play it out a little longer, have him wait a little longer just to make your reunion that much sweeter. 

But your need to bury yourself in his arms, to feel his warm skin beneath your fingertips, to finally, finally kiss him until neither of you could breathe anymore—that need was greater than anything else at the moment. 

Breaking out into a run, you ducked and weaved through person after person as you made your way towards Jake. You nearly bowled him over with the force of your hug when you finally got to him, barely giving him enough time to drop his bag as you threw yourself into his arms with a cry. 

“Holy shit,” Jake inhaled, steadying himself enough to withstand the force of your hug. He sounded amazed, breathless like he couldn’t believe you were here in front of him at this very moment. “Holy shit!” 

Your nose pressed into his neck, the smell of sunscreen, sweat, and a little bit of engine smoke accompanying the familiar smell of his cologne. This wasn’t a smell you could get from one of his old shirts. It was raw, unfiltered, so very Jake that you could damn near sob right now. Seven months of missing your man really took a toll on your emotional state. 

“Hi,” You mumbled against his skin, squeezing him so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to meld into him. He murmured back a soft greeting of his own, large hands splaying across your back as he lifted you off your feet and spun you in a circle. You tightened your arms around his neck with a squeal. 

He hooked his shades onto the breast pocket of his uniform as soon as he set you back down on the ground, pretty green eyes flitting around your face, taking in every single detail. “My god, did you get even more perfect while I was away?” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot under his focus. “Oh my god, stop it.” 

“What? I’m so serious right now, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop looking at you. Look,” he grinned, not even attempting to cast his gaze elsewhere. “See, I can’t even take my eyes off you. Couldn’t even if I tried. Not that I’d want to, with you lookin’ like somethin’ straight out of my dreams.” 

“You’re horrible.” 

“I’ve just gotten home after months and months away and I’m horrible?” Jake teased, giving your hip a light pinch. Any response you were about to give died in your throat as soon as you registered the weight of his words and you just stared at him, blinking furiously to stop the influx of tears that you knew were coming. It didn’t work. 

Jake saw the tremble of your lip and brought you back against his chest within a second, cradling the back of your head in his palm. His other hand smoothed over your back in small circles, lips pressed to your forehead gently. “Oh hey, hey, you’re okay. Everything’s fine, no need for tears.” 

“Sorry, I’m—god, I’m sorry, Jake,” You breathed, inhaling a shaky breath against the scratchy khaki of his uniform. You retreated a little bit, managing to gather yourself enough to look up at him. 

He gave his head a miniscule shake, mouth curving into a reassuring smile. “No need for sorries. Glad to see you missed me while I was gone.” 

“Of course I missed you, asshole.” 

“Asshole? Me? Shit, maybe you didn’t miss me!” 

“Don’t even joke about that.” You huffed, feigning a glare at him that faltered almost immediately. “You’re really here?” 

“I’m really here, darlin’.” He echoed, sliding his hands over yours and bringing them up to his face so he could press a kiss to both of your palms. “Right here, right now, and I’m not plannin’ on leaving again anytime soon.” 

Happy tears welled in your eyes, your heart thrumming hard in your chest at the mere thought of Jake staying stateside for the foreseeable future. You let out a watery chuckle, smoothing your fingers over the smile lines near his eyes before breaking into a smile yourself. 

“There’s my girl.” Jake hummed, tapping you on the nose lightly. He held you at arms’ length, finally taking the time to fully take in the sight of you. His eyes traveled down the length of your dress, lips curving into a cheeky smirk. “New dress just for me? I’m honored.” 

“You like it?” 

“Oh, I love it,” He hummed, ducking in towards your ear for his next words. “Though I think I’ll love it even more on the floor of our bedroom.” 

“Well, what’re you waiting for?” 

Jake’s eyebrows flew sky high at your insinuation, and he quickly stooped down to snatch up his duffel, throwing it over his shoulder and grabbing your hand in one fell swoop. He pulled you through the crowd until the parking lot, where he let you take over until your car came into view. 

You moved to toss him the keys because you knew he’d probably missed driving through the streets of Fightertown whilst he was away, but before they could leave your hand, he nudged you back against the side of the car. He pushed up close until he was flush against you, and you barely caught a glimpse of his pearly white smile before his mouth was on yours, moving with such a hunger that seemed a bit much for a public setting. Not that you were complaining though, this was the first time you got to kiss him in ages. 

You only remembered you were in a crowded parking lot when Jake’s hand at your waist crept around to give your butt a squeeze, bracing your hands against his chest to push him back a few inches. “What was that for?” You panted, kiss swollen lips parted as you attempted to catch your breath.

“Had to give my girl a proper hello.” He shrugged, pressing a much shorter kiss to your lips before plucking the keys out of your hand and pulling open the passenger door for you like he hadn’t just kissed the living daylights out of you. “You comin’ or what?” Judging by the cheeky smirk gracing his face, he knew what he was doing. 

“Like I said earlier—asshole.” 

“Happy to be home too, darlin’!” 

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#jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #hangman seresin fluff #jake seresin fluff #top gun maverick #glen powell

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Bestie reader x Jake where he hates her boyfriend please

Her Protector - Jake Seresin Imagine

A/N: I loved this request and it might have sent my muse flying. So, have a cute little Jake x bestie reader and be ready for more based off these two 🥰

Warnings: Brief domestic abuse, cursing, and protective Jake

Mandatory fun, that’s what your boyfriend called the cookout that you were attending on the naval base in Fightertown. “It’s going to be a family day thing, most of the spouses will be there. You should come! It’ll be fun.” You had agreed, excited to be with your boyfriend Nathan, but also to see your best friend since birth, Jake. You had been lucky enough that your two closest guys since high school had gotten stationed at the same naval base and you could see them both.

Nathan had been your high school sweetheart that Jake had actually introduced you too. The two of you were hanging out at a party when Jake introduced you to him; they were on the same baseball team and you had immediately hit it off with Nathan. The two of you had been inseparable since. Well, until recently.

Things between you had started to become rocky, and you weren’t sure why. But, you just knew it wasn’t fun to deal with.

You stood at the cookout with Nathan and his buddies, all of them calling him by his call-sign Hot Shot and laughing about the glory days of deployments. “So, what do you do for work?” One of the guys pulled the conversation towards you as you turned a shade of embarrassed, biting your bottom lip. “Oh, he doesn’t let me work-“ You started before they all kind of looked at him for confirmation, raising an eyebrow at your boyfriend. He grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your skin as you realized you had messed up. “I-I mean..” Nathan cut you off, excusing the two of you from his friends as he led you away by the arm. His grip was very tight now, whimpers and sounds of pain leaving your lips as you tried not to trip.

Unknown to you, Jake had been at the same cookout and had been watching you out of the corner of his eye. You had been different the last few weeks. You were quieter, more reserved, and you came over less than normal. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, until he saw your boyfriend with a death grip on your arm yelling at you. He shook his head and walked over, putting a hand out on Nathan’s chest. “Let her go.” Nathan laughed at his old friends words, shaking his head. “This doesn’t concern you.” He pushed Jake’s hand off of his chest before he turned to you again.

Jake shook his head and cocked it to the side before he turned Nathan to face him again. “Actually, buddy. Anything that has to do with her concerns me. Let her go.” A crowd had started to gather now, the members of each male’s squad coming in for backup. Maverick was nearby and he came over with Penny, nodding at her to go and get you away. Nathan hesitantly let your arm go as he let out a dry chuckle, looking up at Jake who had a couple inches on him. “What are you gonna do? Lay me out here in front of everyone?” He was looking for a fight, and Jake wanted to give him one, but he knew better. Now wasn’t the time nor place. “You know for a fact that I would kill for her. Keep that in mind and keep your fucking hands off of her. This is your one and only warning, hot shit.” Jake pushed the other males chest back as Penny took your hand and lead you over to the dagger squad.

Natasha and her went to go sit down with you and look you over while the guys tried to calm Jake down and lead him off so he didn’t end up in a knock-down drag out brawl.

You had tears rolling down your cheeks from embarrassment as you sat down at the picnic table, trying to hide your face. This was humiliating and of course it would happen on your first outing on the base. You felt a hand on your shoulder and heard the all too familiar voice of Jake, a comforting tone to his voice. “Peach, you good?” The nickname that he called you pulled at your heartstrings and you wiped your nose, nodding. You got the nickname in childhood; from the fact that you really only liked to eat the peach flavor of anything that had it. “Yeah, I’m good. Thank you for standing up for me.” Your voice was shaky as he sat beside you, pulling you into his side. “I’ll always protect you. Don’t you ever forget that. Now come on, let’s go have some navy ordained fun.” He gave you a small smile that you shakily returned, nodding and deciding not to let Nathan ruin your day.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman imagines #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin one shot #tgm imagine #tgm fanfiction #tgm imagines #tgm one shot

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 16: To San Diego

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. :)

Gradually awakening, you found yourself in an unfamiliar queen-size bed, the sound of a shower running nearby gently rousing you. You wore an olive green tank top and light weight olive green and black sleeping pants. As you slowly sat up, you took in the surroundings. The room had white walls adorned with a few pictures resting on a well-worn dresser. The only items that seemed new in the space were the bedding and pillows on the bed.

You let out a sigh, realizing this simple setting was reflective of how your husband had been living for years as a pilot. In stark contrast, your own living conditions could be considered luxurious. With a sense of newfound appreciation and a bit of guilt, you tossed the duvet aside, swung your legs over the side of the bed, and placed your feet on the floor, just as the sound of the shower ceased.

Moments later, the bathroom door swung open, and Jake stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, his dog tags dangling over his muscular chest. Steam billowed out behind him, enveloping him like a cloud, creating an almost ethereal sight. You found yourself looking at him with fresh eyes, seeing him in a new light that melded the familiarity of your husband with the stark realities of his profession and lifestyle.

"Morning," Jake greeted, his voice warm. "I didn't wake you, did I?" he asked, concern tinting his words as he made his way toward the closet.

You shook your head in response. "No, it was the unfamiliarity that did," you answered, your gaze following him as he reached for his flight suit hanging among the other items in the closet.

He turned to face you, his green eyes sparkling with a lively intensity. Even in his disheveled state, he had an undeniable allure that could send shivers down your spine.

"Good. We did get in pretty late, and you looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to disturb you," he explained, moving towards his dresser to fetch his underwear, T-shirt, and socks. As he spoke, he let the towel around his waist drop to the floor.

Feeling an unexpected wave of embarrassment, you turned away to afford him some privacy. The reason behind this sudden modesty with your own husband puzzled you, yet you could hear him getting dressed behind you.

"I'm going to go make some coffee," you announced, seeking an escape to compose yourself. With that, you headed out the door towards the kitchen.

The kitchen and living area were compact, resembling a modest kitchenette. There was a small couch, a TV, and a petite dining table accompanied by two chairs, all arranged to fit within the limited space efficiently.

You started opening up cabinets to look for some coffee, but there wasn't much.

A few minutes later, Jake emerged from the bedroom, his hair neatly combed and dressed in his flight suit, perfectly embodying the image of a pilot.

"Don't worry. I'll grab some at the base," he said initially, then paused, reconsidering his words. Realizing the coffee was meant for both of you, he added, "I'm sorry. I don't have much here."

You turned to face him, offering a reassuring smile. "It's no problem. I'll get a rental car and tour the city today."

He closed the distance between you, concern evident in his eyes. "You sure?"

You nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Your gaze swept across the confines of the small apartment.

"I know it's not like the lodge," he began, acknowledging the stark difference in your accommodations.

You reached up, gently cupping his face with your hand, a tender gesture that sought to bridge any distance between you. "Has it always been like this? Why didn't you say something?" Your voice carried a mix of concern and curiosity, wanting to understand his experiences and the choices he made to live this way.

He leaned slightly into your touch, his expression softening with a hint of resignation. "I'm a Naval Aviator. I'm not here much. And when I get deployed, it's less for me to worry about," he explained, his words revealing a pragmatic acceptance of his lifestyle, dictated by the demands of his profession.

Just then, a knock sounded at the door. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before he turned to answer it, moving with a sense of purpose towards the door to see who was on the other side.

He opened the door, revealing a tall African American gentleman on the other side. "It's about time you came back," the man greeted, his voice carrying a warm, familiar tone. They exchanged a brief, hearty "man" hug, a gesture that spoke volumes of their close relationship. After the greeting, the man's gaze shifted towards you, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and friendliness.

The man approached you with his hand extended, a friendly smile on his face. "So, you're the famous Doctor Seresin that I knew nothing about. I'm your husband's best friend, Javy 'Coyote' Machado. You can just call me Coyote." His introduction was warm and inviting, clearly indicating the close bond he shared with your husband.

You took Coyote's hand, his grip firm and reassuring, the kind that spoke volumes of his character without the need for many words. "If it makes you feel any better, Jake has never mentioned you either," you said, returning his smile with one of your own, your curiosity about the man before you piqued by the familiarity in his demeanor.

Coyote's laughter was hearty and genuine, the sound filling the space between you with an ease that spoke of his good nature. "Well, I suppose that makes us even then," he said, his smile broadening. "Jake's always been more of the strong, silent type, but don't let that fool you. There's a lot more to him beneath the surface, as I'm sure you're well aware."

His observation struck a chord with you, acknowledging the depth you had come to know and love in Jake. "Absolutely. Every day with him brings something new," you agreed, your thoughts momentarily drifting to the complex layers of your husband's character.

Coyote nodded, his expression turning thoughtful, as if reminiscing about past experiences shared with Jake. "He's one of the best men I've had the honor to serve with, and trust me, I don't say that lightly. Jake's saved my hide more times than I care to admit, and I'd do the same for him in a heartbeat."

The sincerity in Coyote's voice added weight to his words, offering you a glimpse into the unbreakable bond formed in the crucible of their shared service. It was a world apart from your own experiences, yet in that moment, you felt a profound connection to it through Jake and now, Coyote.

"Sounds like you two have been through a lot together," you commented, appreciating the depth of their friendship even more.

Coyote looked at his watch and then at Jake. "We've got to get going."

Jake nodded in agreement with Coyote's reminder of their schedule. He then made his way to the coffee table, where a notebook lay open. After jotting down a note, he carefully tore out the page and handed it to you. "If you need anything or get bored, just go here," he said, ensuring you had a point of reference or a suggestion for how to spend your day while he was away.

"The Hard Deck?" you questioned, looking at the note with curiosity.

"Yes, the owner's name is Penny Benjamin. I texted her and let her know you were here. She's my Captain's girlfriend," Jake explained, providing you with a bit of context and ensuring you'd have a friendly contact in the area. It seemed like a thoughtful gesture, connecting you with someone who could offer both company and assistance during your stay.

With a casual shrug, you accepted the plan. Jake then leaned in for a kiss, a tender moment shared between the two of you. "I love you, and I'll let you know what's going on," he assured you, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

"Love you too," you responded, the affection in your voice clear and unwavering. Watching Jake and Coyote leave, you turned your attention back to the piece of paper he'd given you. After a brief moment of contemplation, you placed it on the small table, a symbol of potential adventures or solace for the day ahead. With a deep breath, you then headed to the bathroom to prepare for whatever the day might bring.

You managed to arrange for a rental car to be delivered to Jake's apartment. Once it was there, you took it to do some grocery shopping, ensuring his apartment had food during your stay. After stocking up, you glanced at your watch and noticed it was only noon. With a sigh, you slumped onto his couch, feeling a bit lost in a city unfamiliar to you, wondering what to do with your time while Jake was busy at work.

You turned your gaze to the piece of paper resting on the small table behind you. Recalling the name written on it, you swiftly entered it into your phone, eager to find out what it was and where it could be found.

After reading the details, you pressed the directions button and discovered it was just a ten-minute drive away—and even better, it was located on the beach. Shrugging to yourself with a "why not?" attitude, you picked up the rental car keys and made your way out the door.

You pushed open the door to the Hard Deck and cautiously stepped inside. Behind the bar, an older man looked up.

"We're actually closed right now," he informed you kindly, his voice carrying a hint of an Irish accent. "We don't open until three."

"I understand, I'm sorry for the intrusion. My husband mentioned that if I ever needed anything, I should come here," you replied.

He looked at you with piercing blue eyes. "You must be Jake's wife."

With a slight nod, you tucked your hands into the back pockets of your shorts. "Yes, I am."

"Alright then, I'll fetch Penny for you. She's currently in the cooler taking stock of our inventory." With that, he turned and made his way toward a set of double doors.

Left by yourself, you wandered closer to the bar, taking the opportunity to admire the establishment's decor. Near the bar, a piano was positioned, its presence suggesting nights filled with music. Not too far from it, a jukebox stood, ready to fill the room with selected tunes. Hanging above the bar, model planes dangled, adding a unique touch of character to the ambiance.

The sound of the double doors opening caught your attention, and a slender brunette emerged, clad in an olive green button-up shirt and black jeans.

"Hi there! You must be Y/N?" she inquired with a welcoming tone.

"I am," you confirmed.

Pausing, she scrutinized you for a moment. "Well, I guess it all makes sense now," she remarked.

Puzzled, you inquired, "What does?"

"Why Hangman never seemed attracted to any other woman."

A smile crossed your face.

"Have a seat, please," she motioned towards a barstool. "My name's Penny," she introduced herself, extending her hand across the bar.

You took the offered hand, noting the warmth and firmness of Penny's grip—a welcoming gesture that made you feel instantly at ease. "Nice to meet you, Penny."

"Finding out Hangman was married really took me by surprise. He was always so reserved about his personal life."

"That seems to be the consensus."

"You're a doctor, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm a Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. I specialize as a veterinarian for large animals."

"That's really impressive! How did you decide to pursue that field?"

You shrugged. "I've always been drawn to larger animals. Don't get me wrong, I am still trained for dogs and cats."

Penny glanced in your direction. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just water for me, thanks."

Acknowledging your request, Penny reached behind the bar, selected a glass, then filled it with ice and water before setting it down in front of you, ensuring a coaster was beneath it.

"If you don't mind sharing, how did you come across Hangman?"

You took a sip of your water. "We actually met in a bar while I was attending a class in Austin, Texas. He had just completed his time at the Naval Academy and was back home for a few weeks. We connected instantly and ended up getting married after just a week and a half."

"I'd say I never saw Hangman as a quick decision maker, but that would be incorrect. He saved my boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend is the plane he saved. He told me about that."

"So, why didn't he tell us about you?"

You met her gaze and inhaled deeply. "Not long after we married, I discovered I was pregnant. But three months in, a horse kicked me in the stomach, and I miscarried. He urged me to give up my veterinary practice, leading to a major argument between us. We drifted apart after that, each of us burying ourselves in our work. Just last week, he suddenly decided he wanted to return to Wisconsin. I'm not sure what prompted the change."

Penny expressed her condolences with a sorrowful tone. "I'm sorry to hear about your loss."

"Thank you. It's something we've been working through together over the past week."

"The idea of divorce or separation never crossed your mind?"

"I can't say the thought of divorce never entered my mind, but whenever it did, I would glance at our wedding photo and remember the joyful moments. I had seen Jake at his happiest, yet I had never witnessed him in pain. I suppose the loss of our baby was that moment of pain for him. I couldn't blame him for feeling that way. I was dealing with it too."

Penny nodded, showing a sign of understanding. "He's quite fortunate, indeed. And here I was, thinking he was untamable by anyone."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Penny's comment, recognizing the mix of admiration and jest in her voice. "Well, I guess we all meet our match at some point, right?" you said, taking another sip of your water, the crispness of the drink a perfect match for the warmth of the conversation.

Penny laughed in agreement, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "That's very true. It's always the ones you least expect that end up surprising you the most," she added, her gaze briefly drifting as if reflecting on personal experiences.

The conversation flowed easily from there, with Penny sharing tidbits about the local area and you offering snippets of your own life and career. Despite the differences in your backgrounds, you found common ground in shared values and the occasional challenges of dealing with strong personalities, whether in a professional setting or personal relationships.

Penny glanced at her watch. "Wow, time really does fly when you're enjoying yourself. I need to go pick up my daughter from school. Feel free to stay as long as you like. Jake gave me your number, so I'll text you mine just in case you decide to head out." She swiftly pulled out her phone and sent a text, with your phone chiming shortly after. "If you need anything at all, just let me know."

You checked your phone, saving her contact details. "Thanks, Penny."

"I'll see you later," she said, rushing out the door.

After Penny left, your phone rang. You glanced at the caller ID and saw it was Jake. "Hey," you answered, a hint of surprise in your voice.

"Hey, darlin'. Where are you?" Jake's voice came through, sounding eager.

"I'm perched on a stool at The Hard Deck," you informed him, the background noise of the bar faintly audible.

"Great. I'll be there in a few minutes, so stay put," he replied, a tone of anticipation in his voice.

"I might head down to the beach," you mentioned, gazing out towards the sea visible from your vantage point.

"Alright. I'll find you there in a few," he assured.

The line went dead as you processed the swift exchange, pondering the imminent reunion.

Tags: @buckysteveloki-me @bellyliveslife @tgmreader @callsign-barbell @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 #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you

[kryptonitejelly]

“We want ice cream. Please auntie y/n!!”

“Yeah, sweetheart, please!!!”

*clearly fly!boy Jake era 😂*

thank you for sending this 🥺 i want to write something but i just don’t have the time or energy to so this is the perfect idea / snippet alfhksjdkajs (update: this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages)

and yes 100% - Flyboy Jake

-

“Pleasee”

“Yeah, please!” You stare at the matching pleading expressions of the two that are staring back at you, their pleas ringing in your ears.

“No,” you find yourself wrinkling your nose slightly in protest as you hold the paper cup in your hands closer towards you, “I’m not sharing, you both said you didn’t want ice cream.”

“But I’ve changed my mind,” the little girl beside you pouts, her flower crown slightly askew.

“Nope,” you say again, scooting slightly further away from the two on the stool you are sitting on so that you find yourself only half anchored on its surface. You flex your foot so that you toes skim the ground as a point of balance.

“But I want some noooow,” the whine comes again, and it makes you chuckle. You see the hint of a grin on Jake’s face coming through the exaggerated pout in his face. Hand still clutching the cup of ice cream close to you, you dig into the pocket of your jeans to pull out your phone, swiping up with a thumb to aim at the pouting duo before you.

They see the camera, and pull more pronounced pouts which is accompanied by a furrow of their brows. It goes entirely unplanned and makes you chuckle, just as one leans forward, and the other slumps back in her chair in a dramatic display of defeat.

You see Jake’s hand move after you snap the picture, but you are faster, and you slide yourself entirely off the chair, clutching your phone in one hand and ice cream cup in the other.

“Nu-uh Seresin,” you call out, as you shuffle a step back. You see Jake bend his head to whisper something to his niece, whose face lights up in glee. He stands, lifting her off the chair. Her feet hit the ground, and you spin around on your heel.

“Get her,” you hear a little roar from behind you as you sprint forward, darting through the nearby door.

#flyboy #flyboy drabble #flyboy universe #flyboy ideas #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman seresin #hangman seresin x you #hangman seresin x reader #hangman seresin imagine #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #top gun imagine #top gun #not cm

[seresinhangmanjake]

Rather Be With You

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has been away for six months and he just hopes you waited for him.

Warnings: cursing. I think that's it.

Notes: this was inspired by an ask (💐) from a bit ago. Sorry it took so long. So much happened in the last week and a half, some good some bad, and it just got on top of me. Writing had to come second. I have probably written better in my life haha, but I tried.

Words: 1972

---

“You know he's only messing with you, right?”

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees as he wrung his hands together. Surely it had been a while. For the entirety of the morning, perhaps? Rooster had made his teasing comments at seven a.m. sharp and they were due to dock at noon. Had it been that long? Or had he really managed to shove many hours worth of painful thoughts into just a few short minutes? Somehow, he figured, it was one or the other. No in-between.

When his eyes flicked up, Nat’s face seemed to hint at the former. 

It made sense, he supposed. Spending hours thinking about you wasn’t exactly uncommon. Usually, though, those thoughts were a bit nicer, with you naked and smiling, laughing, or whispering sweet words to him. He liked those better than the ones that had plagued him for…well, however long he’d been sitting there.

“He knows what he said isn’t true,” she continued. “He wouldn’t have had the balls to make jokes like that if he thought they would hold any weight. Trust me, no one particularly enjoys pissing you off.”

He wasn’t pissed off, though. He was devastated at the seeds of doubt planted in his head; at the pain and insecurity that came with the twisted knife to his gut. He hated the images forced into his mind at his friend’s words; the ones of you with other men; the ones that made it terribly clear how little you considered or missed him in his absence. 

“Jake, she waited for you. I know she did.”

“Yea? How?” he asked. 

Phoenix opened her mouth quickly, just as he would have had someone asked him a few hours ago if you loved him like he loved you—ready to confirm with a smile on his face. But if made to think of the answer for more than a half-second, without the hope and giddiness fueling his enthusiasm, he realized he couldn’t actually say for sure if you loved him, just as Nat now could not say with certainty that you had waited for him. 

Her mouth closed. 

"Exactly. You don't know," he said. "It’s not like I was smart enough to ask her to be my girlfriend before we left. She has no obligation to me, so why would she have bothered to wait six months to have me when she could have anyone?"

The brunette shook her head. “I don’t believe she's like that."

Leaning back against the bench and crossing his arms, Jake just barely held himself back from a scoff. "Like what, Nat? That wouldn't make her anything other than a woman who found someone new to sleep with after the guy she was sleeping with disappeared for half a year.”

“But you didn’t—”

“I know I didn't disappear. But I’ve been gone longer than we’d been together," he said, his voice drifting as he imagined what he hadn't stopped to consider before; a nightmare that, if proven true, would cleanly snap his heart in half. "Joke or not, Rooster could very well be right.”

—

"You're overthinking,” Penny’s voice snuck in from your left. 

She reached out to take the beer glass from your hand, polished almost too clean after the twenty minutes you spent absentmindedly running a rag over it. Your mind had been too occupied with troubled thoughts to notice your unceasing drag of the dishtowel around the cylindrical shape of the glass. 

It came free from your hand with ease, and as Penny placed it back on its shelf, you spewed, "What if he hooked up with someone? What if he decided six months was too long to wait for a woman that isn't his girlfriend?” You finally faced her just to find her rolling her eyes. “He likes sex, Penny. A lot. There are plenty of willing women and he's practically insatiable."

"When it comes to you, maybe."

The tenseness in your shoulders from well-formed stress was heavy with your exhale, forcing your shoulders to fall forward and your posture to take a hit. "Penny…" you groaned.

"I'm telling you, there's no way he messed around with anyone,” she swore, leaning back against the bar. "Besides, it's frowned upon to get involved with your coworkers."

"You think that's ever stopped Jake?"

She pursed her lips and tilted her head from side to side as she considered. "Ok, fair enough,” she agreed. “Once upon a time, that definitely wouldn't have stopped him. But after meeting you, he hasn't looked at another woman."

You couldn’t say that provided you with any relief. Jake had always presented as an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ type of man. He wasn’t a worrier. Once something exited his periphery, it promptly left his brain, discarded with all past challenges or predicaments. And wasn’t that what you were? An obstacle? He hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend for a reason. Holding on to you for more than just the night didn’t necessarily make you more special than any of the other women. Perhaps it simply made you convenient.  

"You don’t know, Penny. You’re not with him 24/7."

Penny muttered something under her breath. Her fingers rose to rub at her temple and when they dropped back to her side, the stare she shot you was imbued with determination. "Look, my bar is where Seresin used to do his "best work," as he liked to say,” she said, and you made a face. "But the only work he's been putting in since he met you has involved getting you to like him and making you happy after you two started your little…thing." 

"You may not pay attention, but I do," she practically scolded. "Now, a month ago you were excited to meet him when he got back, and then you let your thoughts get away from you and it’s fucking everything up." 

To your own shame, you couldn't deny that. So you didn't bother, rather opting to nibble on your thumbnail.

"They'll be back soon, so are you coming with me or not?"

—

He didn’t know what he was doing, standing there with his bag over his shoulder. But he felt like a heavy weight, an anchor in a sea of levity. Looking around, the men and women he’d been packed in with for the last six months were thrilled, the room sprinkled with smiles and laughs of giddiness in anticipation of having their families in their arms again. 

He didn’t have that. 

He wanted to have it, but that was fully reliant on you. Your feelings. Your wants and desires. Your plan for your future. Jake could imagine a world where he had the strength to beg to be a part of your life—to plead as desperately as if fighting for enough air to fill his lungs—but reality made that entirely out of his will and control. So he didn't shove his way forward when they made it home. He couldn't bring himself to jump in front of the others who had people waiting for them upon their return. Instead, he let them file out, his team included, until he was one of the final few to step back on dry, solid land. 

As he walked by couple after couple, family after family, his already weak composure began to crumble at its edges. The people milling around him felt like a mocking montage of the life he didn’t have. Men and women kissing their partners or spouses, hugging their children with no intent of letting go, their tears coating the ground with joy. 

Jake's chest constricted. He needed to get himself on the other side of it, but weaving through the mass of bodies proved harder than he expected. 

His shoulders bumped into theirs, his chest skimming across backs and limbs when he turned to his side to sneak through narrow openings. Little kids ran into his legs like spinning tops on the loose from their wound-up energy finally releasing, though each one quickly recovered and returned to their parents, maintaining the same level of enthusiasm they had prior to smacking face-first into a muscled calf. 

With each unintentional nudge, he apologized, but no one so much as noticed, too engrossed in their relief at making it home unscathed or in seeing their loved ones still intact. Somewhere, his teammates were doing the same. They’d found their partners, and he thought he’d found his, but his overconfidence in your feelings kept him from ensuring you were actually together. And maybe it was too late. Maybe he would have no choice but to watch you move on from him.  

Finally breaking through the edge of the crowd, Jake took his first deep breath. He didn’t look back as he made his way to his truck. He didn’t turn when rushed footsteps grew closer until they sounded as if right on his tail. 

“Jake.”

He paused and sighed. He should’ve known he would imagine your voice. Six months without that lovely sound, his only chance at hearing it being within his dreams, took its toll. It haunted him like a ghost on that ship. Of course it wouldn’t cease just because he was home.

“I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” There was a soft chuckle, then, “Well, at least I hope you didn’t hear me.”

He spun on his heel and was greeted with your smile. It lacked its carefree nature, instead just barely failing to conceal a twinge of nerves, but beautiful nonetheless. He couldn’t help but smile back. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a few steps closer. 

“I came with Penny.” The roundness of your cheeks turned pink from your blush. You lightly shrugged. “I missed you.”

With those words, Jake knew Rooster was deserving of a swift smack upside the head, one he very well may deliver. You cared. You missed him, even. 

Fucking Rooster.

“Oh, I, um,” you continued, your eyes falling down to your hand. “I got you these. It feels silly now, but at the time I thought they would be nice, I guess.”

He followed your line of sight to the small bundle in your hand. Five long stems were tight in your grip, the bulbs on their ends made up of layers of silky red petals. 

"I was thinking," you swallowed hard and met his gaze, "I don't actually know if you like flowers. And if you do, I didn't know your favorite. I just picked mine." The sweet grin that returned to your face practically demanded he kiss you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead, your nose. All of you. Every little bit. 

And you weren't wrong. He hadn't had a favorite. 

He did now. 

Jake swallowed through the tightness in his throat, fighting back the stinging in the corners of his eyes. 

He didn't get gifts, and certainly not from the women he was with. But then again, with the exception of you, he hadn't chosen to be with a woman for more than a night or two in the last decade. 

"I like the yellow ones but they symbolize friendship and that wasn't really what I was going for, so I—"

"I love you.”

Your smile, your jaw, your hand, fell. "You…what?"

He let out a chuckle and reached for you. "Come here."

You didn't hesitate sliding your hand into his and he quickly pulled you to him, your chests hitting, lips meeting with an intensity that he hoped expressed even just a lick of how much he missed you. You draped your arms around his shoulders and the petals of the flowers tickled the nape of his neck. 

"Six months was too long," you whispered when you separated. 

He nudged his nose against yours. "Way too long."

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @cinderellasmissingshoe @leila22rogers

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake hangman x reader #tgm fic #tgm

[ddejavvu]

jake with a shy!reader i feel like that man would be so down bad he’d be unrecognizable to his friends

Tailgating by the beach means sand in your hair (and everywhere else), a trash can full of beer bottles, and a whole lot of wipeouts. For most.

For you, it means Jake’s sweatshirt bunched up under your head like a pillow as your back rests against the metal grooves of his pickup’s bed. Your pinky is intertwined with the man’s own as you stargaze, avoiding the cloud of smoke billowing up from the bonfire.

“That one looks like an F-35.” He informs you, pointing at a constellation that is definitely not a fighter plane.

“I think that’s Draco.” You hum, “Not sure, though.”

Jake turns to you with a furrow in his brow, “That little shit from Harry Potter?”

“No!” You shriek, louder than you’re used to speaking. Jake has a way of making you forget your reservations, giving you the courage to speak up around him.

“It’s a constellation.” You quiet yourself, feeling Jake’s pinky tighten around yours. “I read that it was supposed to be in the sky tonight.”

“You read up on the stars?” Jake turns to you, propped on his side in the truck bed. It must be awful on his hips, but he does it anyways to gaze at your side profile.

You give him a front view, turning your head to stare back at him, “I didn’t do it on purpose, I just saw it on Instagram, I think. On someone’s story.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but neglects to return to stargazing. He’s yougazing now, his eyes tracing the curve from your chin to your cheek, then sloping down the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think-”

You’ll never know if you and Jake share thoughts on whatever matter is in his head, because a sudden thud against the mouth of the truck bed makes you startle, and Jake nearly breaks his neck sitting up to see who made the noise. You draw yourself upright but slower, more cautiously.

It’s one of his squadron members, you’ve seen the guy before in passing, but you don’t think he’s ever noticed you. He’s on the shorter side, and he’s quickly flanked by both Coyote and a taller, unknown counterpart.

“Hangman,” The short one snickers, “I was betting you were passed out somewhere with a bottle in your mouth, not schmoozing some poor woman in your truck.”

You’ve met Javy before, albeit briefly when you’d passed in the hallway of his and Jake’s shared apartment, and in the few terrifying seconds of confrontation your eyes stray over the man’s shoulder and meet Javy’s. He sends you a kind, sympathetic smile at the antics of his friend. You feel safe around him.

“What’s your name, honey?” The taller man leans over the side of the truck bed, a smirk on his face, “Last one was Brenda- no, Brianna.”

“Payback, that was months ago.” Javy snaps, and even though you know it’s true, Jake still looks guilty. He’d confessed in you that he wasn’t exactly a saint when it came to past relations, but all that mattered was the present for you; that you were the only one in it, and he’s stuck to that without a problem.

“I’m not schmoozing her, Fanboy.” Jake drawls, a vicious look in his eyes, “We were trying to have a private moment.”

Fanboy elbows Payback incredulously, shit-eating grins already on their faces, “Sex in a pickup! On the beach, in public. Jesus, man, there’s nothin’ you won’t do.”

“I won’t hesitate to break your nose if you don’t shut your mouth,” Jake seethes, and his free hand tenses into a fist even if he’s more bark than bite. Fanboy doesn't flinch, but Payback's smirk dims.

"Lay off, man." Coyote elbows Fanboy, "It's not like that."

"The only reason you've never met'er before is 'cause I knew you'd act like this," Jake scoffs, "Doesn't mean she's some cheap fling."

You desperately want to intervene, but you don't have the words to do it even if you tried. There's a thousand swirling in your brain, but there's a stopper in its drain to your mouth, a thick clog of panic.

"Well what is your name?" Payback repeats his question, more considerate this time. You're glad he seems to have dropped his bravado, even if you're not sure Fanboy has.

"Y/N," You manage to speak, glad that you know your own name well enough to utter it even when your brain doesn't cooperate. You don't say much else, though, and Javy fills in for your silence.

"She's Jake's girl," Javy smiles at you, happy to see his friend settling down, "She's not big on talking. Not to assholes like you, anyways."

"Well that's great," Fanboy's demeanor is much nicer when he's not goading his teammate, "'Cause Jake never shuts up. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I'm gonna send you to hell if you don't leave us alone," Jake glares pointedly at Fanboy in particular, but the expression is extended to Payback as well, "I wasn't kidding, we were having a conversation."

"That's our cue," Coyote informs the other two, who knew but weren't willing to give up their teasing leverage. He rings an arm each around their necks, bidding you a kind goodbye as he leads them away.

"Darlin'," Jake turns to you as soon as they're gone, like a guard dog that eases out of attack mode, "I'm so sorry. They don’t mean any harm, just- they seriously don't know when to quit, 'probably comes from bein' so aggressive in the air. I'm sorry they were so pushy."

"It's alright," You nod, "It's not your fault, Jake. I'm not angry, I just- I was a little embarrassed."

"I know," He hums sympathetically, leaning in to peck your lips, "I know baby. Listen, now they've met you, they'll probably back off. And if they don't, if you see 'em around somewhere and they try messin' with you, you let me know and I might accidentally fire on 'em in an exercise."

"I don't think you should murder your friends," You tamp down a smile at Jake's suggestion, because the last thing he needs is encouragement, "But I hope I don't see them when you're not around."

A hundred feet away, down on the smooth, wet sand of the shore, Coyote finally lets Payback and Fanboy go, shoving their heads down with the force of his grip around their necks.

"Ow, dude!" Fanboy gripes, but he deserves it the most, "If I'm gonna break my neck it's gonna be in the air, in some sick-ass stunt maneuver."

"Your sick ass needs to learn to shut up," Coyote scoffs, "He's serious about that girl, man! And I wouldn't be surprised if she was running for the hills now."

"C'mon, Coyote, we were just teasing," Payback pleads his case, but Coyote narrows his eyes.

"You can't tease her, not like that. Hell, the first time she ever came over I made a joke about wearing noise-cancelling headphones for them and she couldn't look me in the eye for weeks."

"The first time she came over," Payback's brow furrows, "He's been bringing her around your guys' place?"

"I told you he was serious," Coyote throws a glance back over to Jake's truck, where his hand is pointed in the air once more, "Know any other reason he'd be stargazing right now?"

Fanboy's face wrinkles in a confused grimace, "Stargazing? He's way too douchey for that."

"He's way too in love not to," Payback marvels, "Holy shit. That's- I can't process that, man, that's weird."

"Get used to it," Coyote takes a swig of his beer, "Y'know he's been lighting candles in our apartment for her? I mean, it's nice, 'cause it gets rid of his nasty laundry smell, but candles. Hangman, candles!"

Fanboy rears his head back, "What scent?"

"Lavender."

"Lavender?"

"I know!"

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #top gun x reader #top gun maverick x reader

[sunlightmurdock]

Like This Forever | 0.3 | Jake Seresin x Reader

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Synopsis: Chapter Three. The early stages of pregnancy are really taking a toll on you. Jake’s got questions.

Warnings: talks of abortion / anti-abortion ideology. We’re pro-choice over here. This is an accidental pregnancy fic. Lying. Friends to lovers. WC: 3.6k.

…

Snickering had given the two of you away instantly. From the moment that Matthew Seresin had pushed open the door to the room, he had known that something was amiss. The house was uncharacteristically quiet for a Friday evening — those were the nights you stayed for dinner while your mother worked late, and you had spent hours with Matthew’s youngest brother causing nothing but trouble.

“If you’re in my room, I’m going to lock you out with the cows, you little freaks.” The then seventeen-year old had warned, his eyes narrowed warily as he tiptoed across the hardwood of his bedroom floor, aged floorboards creaking under his weight.

With that, a clammy little hand pressed itself firmly over your mouth. When you turned to look, Jake had been staring right at you, his cheeks dimpled with the sheer joy from his grin. A few more heavy steps and Matthew had dropped his old duffel packed full of wrestling gear to the floor.

Your nose had wrinkled at the smell. Disgusting, sweaty teenage boy athletic gear is a scent that doesn’t fade from memory.

“Last chance, you little germs.” Matthew had warned, craning his neck to check out his closet, then to squint at the open door to the bathroom he had Noah had shared.

From under his bed, you knew you were safe for at least a couple more minutes. As the oldest boy, and the messiest at the time, Matty’s room had plenty of hiding spots back then. Especially for two ten year olds who knew this old house inside and out. But, your window of opportunity was closing — there’s a fragile line between being able to scare the life out of Matthew Seresin, and just evoking his wrath. Back then, in all of his teenage hormonalism, the latter was much easier.

“Three,” Jake had mouthed to you, his shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes and his nose just a fraction too big for his face back then. “Two…”

The two of you had leapt out from opposite sides of Matthew’s double bed, scaring him so bad that he had lost balance in his gym socks, slipped on the wood and landed flat on his ass. He had been so angry that day — the two of you had slept out in Jake’s treehouse because you were so afraid of what Matty would do if he had gotten his hands on you.

Jake has always been a wriggly sleeper. He always tosses and turns, balls his hands into fists and stretches his arms out as wide as they’ll span. He has thought about joining you in your afternoon nap a couple of times now, as you stretch out along the plush bench opposite the kitchenette, but he won’t. All of his wriggling keeps you up, and he hasn’t ever seen you this tired. Even after the two of you had snuck off to Panama City Beach and spent thirty-six hours straight awake the summer after high school.

The tour has been electric so far, and Jake’s still waiting for the high of it all to wear off. His body feels like it’s vibrating as he plucks absently at the guitar strings, turning his head away from you and looking back out towards the open stretch of road. The first three dates have been everything Jake could ever have imagined. He has signed t-shirts, records, hats and skin and listened to crowds call back his lyrics for three nights consecutively. Currently, is a travel day. Seven hours from New Mexico and into Colorado. He’ll have tonight off and tomorrow, he’ll play his fourth gig in Boulder, CO. His eldest brother is going to be able to see him play.

Matt transports things outside of his work at the ranch. Just off season work to make sure his family can have the nice things he wants them to have. Jake can’t wait to see him.

The road ahead is stretching, flat and open. A couple of minutes back, the bus passed a sign informing them that the closest gas station was four miles away. Jake knows this because his driver, Pete, had announced it and interrupted Jake’s train of thought right in the middle of what could have been the best hook of Jake’s career.

With these roads out here, it’s a fifty-fifty gamble between potholes and cracks in the asphalt and smooth sailing. This road is perfectly smooth. It barely even feels like they’re moving. And yet, something wakes you up. You sit up quickly, trying to swallow through the thick churning feeling in your stomach. Your gaze flickers to the whirring air conditioning at the front of the bus as sweat slickens your forehead.

“Stop the bus!”

Pete turns in his seat, wide-eyed and ready to argue about making it before sunset, until he sees the sudden grey sheen to your skin. He doesn’t bother arguing, but his braking isn’t fast enough either.

“Pete, stop the fucking bus!”

Natasha, curled up on the bench beside you, is startled awake by the commotion. Jake’s face has already twisted into a concerned frown, his fingers stilling against the guitar strings as the bus jolts to a stop. As you leap upwards from the seat, there’s a familiar smell of dust that reminds you of that afternoon huddled under Matthew’s bed. The wild look of excitement in your best friend’s eyes are the furthest thing from your mind as you stumble forwards, two left feet trampling over each other and not enough floor space to accommodate the lack of coordination.

The door to the bus, much like the rest of it, is stiff, old and creaky. Your legs wobble down the two steps and your knees buckle, searching for the afternoon-warmed asphalt until your palms are on it too, your stomach twisting into a painful knot.

With how unceremoniously you threw yourself out of the door, Jake has to struggle to step around you without dropping himself boot-first into your breakfast. He winces, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Same old squeamish Jake. With one hand, he gets to work scooping your hair away from your neck and face and with the other, he puts a halt to the crew trying to exit the bus after you.

“Pete — you think there’s an emergency room anywhere near here?” He calls out, craning his neck to squint around the miles of fields and at the mountains in the distance.

First, you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, and then you sit back on your knees and swat Jake’s hand out of your hair. “I don’t need to go to an emergency room. I just ate something — and all the driving, and… bleh. I’m fine.”

“Yeah and the other day you were just too warm. You’ve been feeling weird for a couple of days, we’re getting you checked out.” With his hand now out of your hair, Jake has it free to rest against your forehead, checking impatiently for some kind of temperature he isn’t going to find. Sitting on your knees, squinting at him through the afternoon sun, finding nothing but that stubborn kind of worry that is only fuelled by love, it makes you feel sick all over again.

As much as you used to bicker and fight, and sometimes you still do, Jake’s light has always matched yours in a way that has been noticeable by everyone for your entire life. You’ve always been a duo, the perfect pair. It doesn’t seem quite right that now you know there’s a part of him that’s fused with you — that your body is reacting like this.

Truthfully, you can’t pretend that carrying Jake’s baby had ever occurred to you. The ‘B’ word, really truthfully, still makes you uncomfortable three days after finding out. But, if you had ever thought about carrying Jake’s baby, you would have assumed that it would just be… easier… than this.

“Sunny, hey, look at me.” Jake frowns down at you, all that worry materialising right in the pools of his green eyes as he squats down. Squeamish Jake who couldn’t even clean the mess up after he got sick last New Years’ Eve, squatting above a puddle of hot puke, just to get a better look at your face. “We’ve got the day off — let’s just see a doctor, get you fixed up. Alright?”

“Map says there’s an urgent care down the street from the motel.” Bob calls from inside the bus, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He’s all faded denim and rolled up sleeves, a real hometown-comfort looking kind of guy. Not a rockstar by any means, but he and those drums seem to have a special arrangement. You’ve never been more grateful for him than you are right now; he just bought you another four hours.

“I can hang on ‘til then. I’ll take it easy,” You promise Jake, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears and wobbling to your feet. He presents both hands and breathes a sigh of relief as you brace yourself on his forearms. “It’s just a couple of hours — and I don’t see any hospitals around here anyway. Do you?”

Jake lets it go.

He boards the bus once again and sits with his elbows on his knees and watches you sleep for the next four hours. The way you’re moving, you’re going to drive that guy sick with worry — and Jake Seresin does not take kindly to being sick.

It’s got to be a sign, you think to yourself as you try to appear asleep. Your body rattles with the bus and the lack of the seatbelt, soft cushion under your back as you take up just about the only ‘tour bus-like’ commodity thag this old girl has to offer. Jake’s baby — fetus — clump of cells — whatever the fuck is chilling in there and ruining your day; you and that thing just aren’t compatible. It’s as simple as that.

It’s bringing you to your knees three days in. You haven’t slept, anything you eat won’t stay down, and your nerves are shot with the idea that you created a lifeform in the filthy back room of the Darkstar.

It’s not like you’re a teenager. You’re a grown up who is old enough to be moved out, old enough to be married. Hell, old enough to be a parent. By the standards of Driftwood, Texas, it’s about time you hitched a ride on the baby making bandwagon. Though, even in this more progressive times, the folks back home wouldn’t be too happy to hear that you just let any old guy knock you up.

That idea plays on your mind a lot at night now. The thought of walking down Main Street, all big and round in a pretty little dress, radiant and ready to be a mother. No husband waiting for you at home, no men in line to get down on one knee either. This clump of cells, or whatever, without a father. Poor thing. Well — that would make things even worse. It wouldn’t take long for people to figure out that your little mistake was a Seresin.

You hope that when they figured it out, they would understand. They would take one look at the photographs of you with Jake — all of those summers, and winters, and nights that weren’t captured by a lens, and know that you’re not just easy. Though — you are, you suppose. Jake hadn’t ever had to even ask. You’d agreed to it wordlessly before, or asked him expressly yourself. But that’s Jake. You hope they all know that’s what makes it different.

But you could save yourself all that explaining, all that hoping. With a small gulp, you know how easy it would be. You’re not that far along. All this sickness, and weakness and exhaustion would be gone in no time. You could just say you had a bug. Jake wouldn’t ever know, and his career would become everything he has ever wanted. You would get to remain part of it.

Maybe some day, you could do it the right way. Intentionally. That would feel better. You’d be prepared, the baby would be loved. This… baby — you’re not sure you could ever love something that threatens to rip away everything you and Jake have worked so hard for. Something insignificant that you hadn’t ever wanted, much less intended.

“How you feeling?” Natasha asks, crouched at your side with a glass of water and two ibuprofen in hand. Breaking into the hangover stash to ease your symptoms now. Not a good sign. You blink through the light, glancing over her head at Jake watching you through the rear view mirror, pretending to pluck at his guitar.

“I need someone to distract Jake when we get to the motel. You’ll take me to urgent care, right?” You ask her, dropping the two pills into your mouth and downing them with a strained gulp of water. Her soft brows draw together just slightly as she squeezes at your knee.

“Of course.”

Tbe plan, of course, was never to go to urgent care. While Jake’s stuck on the phone with his mother in a dingy motel room after a carefully timed ambush from Mickey, you’re across the town of Boulder, Colorado, sitting in the waiting area of a Planned Parenthood. The worst part is — Natasha doesn’t even know why it’s so important to keep Jake distracted.

As far as she knows, it’s because your best friend is over protective and because you’ve already got too much on your mind to deal with all the questions. It’s not entirely a lie.

The pen trembles between your fingers. A dotted line has never appeared to be quite so looming before today. All it asks for is your name, and you’re stumped. Outside, routine chanting presses on. Screeching, more like. They had caught you on the way in. People who looked far too similar to those from home, looking into your eyes, knowing exactly what you wanted so desperately to hide.

Baby. Baby. Baby. Your baby can feel already. Your baby has fingernails. Eyelashes. Heartbeat. The entire concept makes you shudder. All the times you’ve laid your head on Jake’s chest and steadied your breathing to the strong thrum of his steady heartbeat. You wonder if it sounds similar.

“It’s just a consultation.” You whisper. It isn’t until Natasha lifts her head and turns to look at you with those big, brown eyes that you realise you’ve said it outloud. One of her hands curls softly around your knee and squeezes softly. She nods. Not to you in particular.

It is just a consultation. Confirmation that you’re pregnant, a couple of questions about your permanent doctor. Whether you’ve ever been pregnant before. The doctor can see it on your face that this is uncharted territory for you. Talk about your vaccinations, your medical history.

“Okay, and is this pregnancy something that you’re looking to go through with?” You suppose there is no easy way to ask that question, and she doesn’t do it any better or worse than you would have expected. Still, it renders you totally silent. “It’s okay if the answer is no.”

“Will I be able to get pregnant again?” Your voice trembled. It’s a strange thing, finding yourself worry for something you had taken for granted until this point. The answer does nothing to reassure you.

“That’s not a very straightforward question. From the exam, I can’t see any reason why not, but things can change and age will be a factor in that.”

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I’m only twenty-six.”

It’s so casual. With a shrug, the doctor hums. “Just in the future. Something to be mindful of.”

You pick at your cuticles, staring towards the ground. “Do I have to decide today?”

“No. But I should advise you, it’s best to perform a termination as early as possible for safety and success.”

Without any of the answers you had been hoping for, you leave the office feeling substantially worse. You’ve been told that the entire crew are going out to a bar in town tonight. Your decision to lay in bed and wallow is both to ease Jake’s nerves and also, so that you don’t have to see his face. That doesn’t work out too well.

It’s just after six when he lets himself into your motel room and locks the door behind him. His smell fills the room, the sound of his boots tap softly against the floor. You squeeze your eyes shut as the bed dips with his weight.

“How ya feelin’, champ?”

A tired smile creeps across your face, even as you try to fight it. Jake worms his way into your bed until his face is opposite yours. Freckles on the bridge of his nose and a glint in his eye. A fond smile on his lips.

“Fine, like I told you.” You answer him. He doesn’t reach for you, but he wants to. He wants to grab both your cheeks in his hands and demand that you tell him everything the doctor told you. If you need more rest, or a certain vitamin, or if you’re allergic to the sun now or something.

As kids, you often discussed which superpower you would pick if you could have them. Right now, Jake has never wanted to be a mindreader more.

“Oh. So you don’t want the get-well treats that I got you, then?” There’s a faint rustling of a plastic bag at the bottom of his bed, purposely knocked by his leg to pique your interest.

“Depends what you got.” You both know exactly what he would have gotten you. It’s exactly what you would have gotten for yourself. Jake smiles as he sits up and pulls the bag between the two of you, setting it open to reveal the contents.

“If this doesn’t make you feel better, I think it’s time to call it. You had a good run, twenty-six isn’t a bad age.” He teases, already digging his hand through your bag of goodies to present you with the crème de le crème of gas station snacks. A warm, almost feverish, grin spreads across your lips as he hands you the chocolate bar.

Once it’s in your hands, Jake props himself up on his side and watches you take a bite. He studies you, slow and methodical, looking for any kind of discrepancy. Pain, fear — anything that will give him answers.

“You want a bite?” You offer him through a mouthful. Wordlessly, he leans in with that smirk plastered all over his face once again, and takes a bite from the top of the chocolate bar, then pulls back. Inches from your face, you watch him watching you.

“Haven’t lost your appetite. You’re warm but you don’t have a fever. Dizziness and nausea. You’d tell me if you were gonna die on me, right, Sunny girl?” With that, he reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe he needs the full picture to study your face better. You scoff, swallowing down a bite of the chocolate.

“I’m not dying.” It’s not the answer he’s looking for; you know you’re just inviting him to pester you more.

You think back to Matthew. You were twelve when he had to sit down his entire family and tell them that he had gotten his high school girlfriend pregnant. He was nineteen at the time. They had been together a long time, but it had seemed like such a bombshell. You remember how upset Jake’s parents were originally.

Matthew’s engagement was short. He married Isabelle before she was even in her second trimester. He works on the ranch through the year and picks up trucking jobs in the off season, now with three kids total. As much as Jake loves his oldest brother — you know that Matthew was his warning sign. Even now, Matt’s a sign to Jake of what he would have to give in to if he wasn’t careful.

Jake stares across at you, “Did they figure out what’s the matter with you?”

“Yeah.” You tell him, watching your hands pluck off a piece of the chocolate and place it into your mouth. Jake’s brows knit together as he watches you fight so calmly to avoid his gaze. He’s starting to look a lot like his big brother.

“Well? — Is it curable? — You’re freaking me out here.” He prompts you, just about ready to snatch the chocolate back out of your hands if it will get him an answer. You scoff quietly. Curable. Sure — to an extent.

You inhale deeply and hold it there. All of your secrets have always also been Jake’s. He’s waiting for an answer, trying not to panic.

“I’m pregnant.”

And there it is. Lingering in the air between you, you stare across at your best friend and watch those two words change absolutely everything. All at once, his face changes and his hands are reaching out for you. His hands curl around your waist, thumbs reaching towards the middle of your stomach. Jake hasn’t ever looked quite so much like his big brother.

In a split-second decision, you rush out a remedy. “It’s not yours.”

His hands still against your middle. The greens of his eyes are pale, empty, searching. He presses his lips into a line. “How can you know that?”

“The doctor said I’m ten weeks along already,” Your lie doesn’t feel good. As it’s leaving your lips, it feels hot and uncomfortable. It doesn’t change the look on Jake’s face at all. “It was before we even hooked up.”

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#Jake Seresin #Jake hangman Seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #Jake hangman Seresin x reader #Jake hangman Seresin x y/n #Glen powell #top gun: maverick #like this forever #countrysinger!jake

[saltsicklover]

Title: Christmas is for Memories

Prompt: Fireplace

Written for @sailor-aviator 's Christmas Writing Challenge! You can find the rest of the list HERE

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Drunk Driving, Character Deaths, Mentions of Deceased family, Death ideation, Bradley is somehow the main character of this fic, Jake's got sisters

The picture stared down at Bradley from it's place atop the mantle. The golden frame highlighting a photograph he's never seen before. Not that he would have. After all, this is Jake's family's house and he is just a last minute addition to the festivities. 

Jake all but drug Bradley down to Texas with him, after Maverick and Ice got pulled to the Pentagon for the week of Christmas, pulling both the rug and their plans out from underneath them. So, Maverick and Iceman packed up their dress uniforms and hauled themselves across the country. When Jake got word that Bradley would be the only Dagger not spending the holiday with family, he knew his Mother would have his head if he didn't bring the mustached pilot along with him. 

Now, Bradley stands semi-awkwardly in a cozy living room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. The air smells of warm vanilla and fresh pine trees, the Christmas tree decorated to the nines in the corner of the room. There are six presents under the tree, far less than Rooster had been expecting when he walked into the room. The lights twinkle, lighting up the room and fighting off the darkness creeping in through the windows.

Though Bradley keeps trying to look anywhere else, his eyes keep snagging on that damn photograph. There's something about the way Hangman looks in it, smile wide as he looks up at a woman, well, more of a girl really. She's sat in a tree, body tucked into the spaces between a couple of curing limbs of the large oak. Jake's younger in the photograph too, maybe twelve years or so. His hair is longer, the back curling around his neck gently, the top threatening to fall into his eyes. Even though the photograph is black and white, Bradley can still see that damn sparkle in Jake's green eyes. 

The girl smiles down at him with so much adoration in her features and it hits Bradley straight in the chest. It's one of those looks that his mother used to give his father, and the way Maverick and Ice look at each other when they think no one is around to see them. Her smile is so damn big, her cheeks round and hued. 

A cowboy hat is held loosely between her fingertips, laying over Jake's chest. He leans back against the tree, bracketed by her legs. Her other hand is wrapped around a branch, keeping her body firmly in place as she leans out just slightly to get a better look at her counterpart. Jake, on the other hand, just has his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, thumbs hanging loosely over the edge of the pockets. 

Though every photograph is a piece of time captured, this photograph seems to hold so much more. Like the moment had been frozen just so, existing more than just to be photographed but because they actually wanted to be there, wrapped up in each other. 

The heat from the fireplace spreads over Bradley, soaking in through his clothes. There is no snow in Texas, but there is a bite to the air that he hasn't been able to shake since he walked off of the plane. It's a far cry from a California winter, but this house is far cozier than his back home. He'd forgone decorating, fully prepared to be at his Dad and Pop's place, and their decorations had been up since the week of Thanksgiving. 

"What's caught your eye, Sailor?" The sound of Sarah's voice makes Bradley practically jump out of his skin. Sarah, Jake's older sister, holds a plate of plastic wrap covered cookies in her hands, a grin firmly fixed to her lips. It's that signature Seresin grin that Bradley has come to recognize all too easy. 

"Aviator, actually," The answer is sheepish, Bradley still reeling with the feeling of being caught looking at something he shouldn't, even though the photograph is proudly displayed on the mantle place. 

"I know, I'm just bustin' your balls, kid," Sarah shoots back, her voice nothing but kind. She sets the plate of cookies down on the coffee table before turning her attention back to a cherry red Bradley. "Do you think Jake would let us forget that little distinction?" 

The little laugh that leaves Bradley's lips almost surprises him, "No. I don't think he would."

"Seems you wouldn't either, Brad," She nudges him with her elbow, taking up place next to him in front of the fire. "Which one of these oldies caught your eye?" 

The wall above the mantle, as well as the mantle place itself is absolutely covered in photographs. They are all mixed together, frames and sizes, ranging from faded with age to almost new. The pair stand in front of the fire for another beat, taking in the heat from the crackling flames as their eyes trace over the photographs. It's then that Bradley begins to find that same girl, again and again, over and over. He's almost dizzy from the way his eyes snap between photographs. 

"Oh, what are we lookin' at?" Another woman's voice calls from behind Bradley, same as before. This time, it's Jake's little sister Anna. She bubbles into the room, choosing to stand in front of the fire on Bradley's other side. "God, the photo wall. I swear, Mama's lucky our family is small or she'd run out of room up there," 

The women share a giggle, the sound washing over Bradley in the way Natasha's does. It's all warmth and comfort, the sound of friendship withstanding the test of time. Bradley doesn't laugh, however. He is too stuck looking at photographs of Hangman and the way he lights up the fucking world when he looks at that girl. It makes the pang in his chest hit just a bit harder when he thinks for just a little bit too long. He's never seen Jake smile like that. Not in photographs, not in person. Hell, even when they made it back from the Uranium mission, Jake didn't smile like that. God, there was a bit of pain in his smile, something Bradley still has never been able to place. That smile had been all grateful and surviving, lined with a thin stroke of aching that Bradley just can't fucking shake. 

"This one is one of my favorites," Anna points a well polished fingernail up to a small square frame on the wall. Inside, Sarah, Anna, and that mystery girl are all lined up. Sarah and Anna are dressed in formal gowns, deep sea green with hemlines that hit the floor. Their Seresin blonde hair is pinned up from their shoulders, makeup sparkling in the sunlight. The mystery girl is squished between them, her dress stark white and absolutely glittering from all of the sequins. Her hair is down in curls. Her makeup is done but hard to see with her eyes squeezed closed, whole expression broke out in a laugh. Sarah and Anna are laughing too, though their faces are less scrunched up. 

"Oh my god, mine too," Sarah laughs, her nose wrinkling a bit. "It was a beautiful wedding, and we got so many pictures but Mama had to hang that one up! Look at me, why is my mouth open so far?" The girls are laughing harder, each grabbing a light hold of Bradley to keep steady. 

"Well, at least you aren't blurry!" Anna shoots back, her body slightly hunched over. 

Bradley is just about to ask who's wedding it was when Sarah thrusts her finger towards another picture. 

"Look, the proposal photo is just as silly. Jake's hands are practically covering up Pip's face!" The girls are laughing again, both still clutching at Bradley's frame. He just leans closer to the photo, trying to get a better look, one with less glare. It doesn't help, really, the photo out of focus anyway. Jake can be made out, standing behind a girl with his hands covering her eyes, well, most of her face, save for her smile. Her fingers are wrapped around his wrists, looking like she's trying to pull Jake's hands from her eyes. 

"With how blurry it is, we're lucky we can even tell it's them!" Anna all but howls, wiping at her waterlines with her fingertips as carefully as she can. 

"Do you think Mama knows that she picks the worst photos?" Sarah inquires, finally releasing her grip from Bradley's sleeve. 

"I think they're nice," Bradley stutters out, his voice so low it almost gets lost in the crackling of the fireplace. "Who is that, anyway?"

He first chances a look to his left, only to wish he hadn't. Anna looks up at him, a look of pain crossing behind her eyes, only to bleed out over he features even as much she tries to hide it. Though, it quickly mixes with anger, and she's spitting out words before Bradley can even decipher the expression that she's settled on. 

"That's Pip," She informs him, like that information should be clear as day to him. "Are you blind or something, Bradshaw?" 

Bradley's eyes jump over to Sarah in a silent beg for help. He feels like a deer caught in the headlights, or maybe how grandma felt just before her ass was grass at the hands of Rudolf himself. 

"No, not blind," Bradley's tongue finally falls on the words, though they taste a bit off on his tongue, "I just don't recognize someone I've never seen before. Hell, I didn't even... I guess I just hadn't... Jake is married?" 

The air is sucked out of the room as soon as the fully formed question leaves his lips. Suddenly Bradley feels too hot in front of the fire, or maybe he's too hot from the heated look that Anna is sending his direction. Either way, he feels all sweaty under his Henley, suddenly wishing for that almost forgotten chill of the Texas winter air. He takes a step back away from the fire. And then another. The looks he's getting from the Seresin girls are polarizing. Anna looks almost furious, while Sarah's brows are scrunched together, eyes wandering like she is trying to put a puzzle together in her mind. 

Anna steps forward, ready to spit another harsh word Bradley's way, but Sarah catches her by the wrist. The squeeze on Anna's wrist is enough to keep her quiet for just a second longer, long enough for Sarah to get a sentence out,"

"Bradley," His eyes snap back to meet hers, "Has Jake ever mentioned Pippa?" 

The air has slowly begun to enter the room again, but Bradley doesn't trust his tongue. It's like being back at the academy again, throat dry while he stands at attention waiting for his uniform inspection. So, Bradley just shakes his head back and fourth a couple of times, firm in his 'no'. He watches as Anna's eyes begin to swim, then as she is quickly folded into her older sister's embrace. Her hand is quickly cradling the nape of Anna's neck, Anna's face tucked right into Sarah's shoulder. 

"So, you have no idea who Pippa is. Or that Jake was married?" A small, wet sob is muffled by the material of Sarah's sweater. Her hand runs over Anna's now shaking frame, her own eyes swimming. But she manages to hold it together, keeping her eyes locked with Bradley's. 

"Was?" Bradley manages to ask, all but choking out the one word. 

The front door slams shut a second later, making the trio jump. There is so much tension in the air, swirling with confusion it's almost stifling. 

"Hello Family! Hey Bradshaw, how are you holding-" Jake rounds the corner, only to be met with Bradley's startled expression and Sarah's angry, watery eyes. Anna is still folded into her big sister's arms, crying gently. "Up..." The last word slips from Jake's lips, his head tilting to the side out of confusion. "Is everything okay?" 

"Jake Seresin," Sarah starts, more hurt than venom in her voice, but it still makes Jake's heart beat a little faster. "When did you stop talking about Pippa?" 

The name makes his heart twist, but the question has his stomach dropping to his knees. He flounders, mouth opening and closing, never settling on a response. 

"Hangman?" Bradley tries, but the older man still doesn't meet his eyes. 

"You know what, I've gotta," Jake hooks a thumb behind him, "I gotta run into town," He turns on his heel, ready to head back the way he came just moments before. 

"Jacob Morris, don't you dare take another step," His shoulders slump at his sister's warning, but he does stop. "Bradley, sit down. You too, Jake," Sarah has gone into full big sister mode now. Bradley listens first, stepping around the coffee table to take a seat on the couch. Jake plops down onto one of the arm chairs a moment later, but refuses to meet his eye. Then, Sarah settles Anna into the matching arm chair before turning to her brother with her hands on her hips. 

"So," She begins, hurt in her voice, "Are you going to tell you wingman about your wife, or am I?" 

That sentence broke the flood gates, tears falling down each of the sibling's cheeks while Bradley just sat there in the salty silence. 

"I met Pip when we were eighteen," Jake croaks out, eyes still glued to the floor in front of his boots. "She was my everything. God, she had the best spirit. So full of love, and she lit up every room. I know everyone says that, but there was just something about her, everyone took notice. I don't know why, but she picked me. We got married at twenty, right before I shipped off to the Academy. Leaving her behind was the hardest thing I ever did. Then, after flight school, she moved out to NSA Pensacola with me. We got our first real go at it, you know, the whole being married thing," 

Bradley hangs onto every word. Each one slow spoken and fully of pain, but he takes them in anyway. 

"You know, they say my call sign is due to my flying. Always leaving people hanging in the air, in the battle. But that's not true," A hollow laugh leaves the depths of Jake's chest, "It was because I left everyone hanging at the bar to go home and call Pip before she went to bed. Then it stuck because I would leave right after hops to go home to her. She was my everything. Nothing else mattered to me. It was her and flying and right back to her," 

Jake gets a little choked up, so Sarah squeezes his shoulder. A sign of support. 

"When we were twenty six, she came home for Thanksgiving. I was stuck out in the middle of the fucking ocean, so she came home to spend the holiday with family. I told her to, God, I told her to. She always said she missed being in Texas, and we were in Maryland by then. So I told her to drive home for it. Spend as much time as she could here while I was gone."

Tears are slick over Jake's reddened cheeks, hot from crying. He takes another deep, jagged breath before continuing. 

"She was killed by a drunk driver a few miles from here. She made that whole drive without a single hiccup, only for some dickhead from a town over to get behind the wheel while shitfaced. I uhh..." The sobs hit him harder, too hard for him to continue to speak. 

"The Navy couldn't get word to him for days," Sarah explains, "Communication went dark for their mission a few days before. It was out of all our hands. We waited until she was home to scatter her ashes," 

Jake grips the chain of his dog tags at her words, "Not all of 'em," He pulls them free from his shirt, a small, steal vile hanging beside them. "I still got a piece of her with me, right next to my heart," Then he takes his sister's hand from where it sits atop his shoulder. He squeezes it gently. 

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, Rooster. I just, I guess... " Jake takes another jagged breath, "After Pip died, I got bad. I became reckless, started truly living up to my callsign. Thought if I left people hanging in the air, I might get back to her faster," 

The admission pulls small gasps from his sisters, as well as a deep pang from Bradley's chest. He gets it, he really does. Bradley is the other side of the coin, being careful, too careful. Stuck hoping that if he holds back just a little longer, he will actually be just a second too late, a second closer to seeing his parents again. 

Anna reaches a hand out to Jake, and he takes it in his free hand, the trio leaning on each other for support. No doubt in the same way they have had for years now. The sight reminds Bradley of Maverick, Ice, and his Mom. How they used to hold each other up after Goose died. The look the sisters share being so close to the way his Dad and Pops looked at each other after his Mom died. Bradley sees so much of his own life here in this little room. 

"Stand up," Bradley almost orders, though his words are still on the side of kind. The lack of context makes Jake finally meet Bradley's face. 

"What?" The blond asks through stray tears. 

"Stand up, Hangman," And so he does. Bradley pushes himself from the couch, and in two strides is wrapping Jake in his arms. His wingman doesn't flinch away like he was expecting, instead, the blond wraps his own arms around Bradley. 

"Thank you for telling me, Jake," Bradley starts, keeping his voice as even as he can. "I, I think you need to hear something, though," 

"I already know I'm a fucking idiot, Rooster," Jake mumbles into his shoulder, the cotton slowly dampening. 

"No, it's something Mav used to say to me after my parents died," Jake nods at that, so Bradley continues. "Mav used to say, I know things are hard without them, but you've gotta keep living, because you've gotta have stories to tell them when you meet again," 

"And part of that living, Jake, is talking about your loved ones, present and lost," Sarah interjects, but Bradley nods in agreement. 

"I guess you're right," Jake admits as he pulls back from Bradley's embrace to look at him and his sisters. "I should talk about her,"

"Yes, you should" Anna squeaks out, wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. 

"You can start by sitting down and telling me all about her," Bradley points to the seat Jake had been sitting in previously. And so, he does. Jake shares stories all about his wife Pip and their life together. The group of four all squeeze onto the couch after the first story, when Sarah busts out the photo album. And by the warm of the dwindling fireplace, Bradley learns all about Jake's wife, and even shares about his parents, keeping them alive through their stories. It wasn't exactly the night any of them had planned, but it was everything they needed. 

#jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #saltsicklover #christmas writing prompts #christmas writing challenge #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick fanfiction

[bradshawssugarbaby]

#top gun maverick au fic #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin au #jake hangman seresin au #bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd au #robert bob floyd au #sports au #football au #hockey au

[twinklelilstarkey]

Silence - Hangman

Words: 5.4k+ Type: Smut & Fluff Summary: After a fight, Jake invades your morning routine. Warnings: Fem!Reader. Mentions of fighting and it is a petty fight that escalated. Silent treatment. Some childish behaviors from both characters. SMUT {shower sex, piv sex, no protection}. from this request by @barbiegirlbaby

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

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You love your boyfriend. Love him more than anything on this Earth. And that is why you can say that he can be the most infuriating person you’ve ever met.

You two fight like any other couple. It’s never too many fights but they do happen, just whenever you two disagree on something strongly or when something goes slightly wrong and neither of you wants to admit your fault in the matter. Sometimes the fights can be big but, most of the time, they’re quite small. The two of you are good to go on the next morning, usually.

The argument you had yesterday night... it's debatable. You two argued over something extremely small. The argument became so ridiculous that even Jake started laughing at one point. It was a small thing that escalated to more because the both of you hadn’t had a good day at work and came home tired. If you knew you were to finish a night in that way, you would’ve slept in the car.

It was followed by the silent treatment. Jake started it by walking off and, when he came back to ask you for something, you decided to be petty and leave him in the silence for at least some minutes. When going to sleep, the two of you faced opposite sides and drifted off to the world of dreams eventually.

Jake woke up this morning earlier than you, as he usually does to work out in the morning. He saw you asleep and facing him this time, and he simply stared at you for quite a while. He knows that everything will be sorted by the first hour of either of you being awake, yet, still, he stayed in bed for just a little longer.

When you woke up, ready to go to work for the last day of the week, you can’t exactly say you were in a bad mood. You had the same plans as Jake: you wanted to make up. But something came up. You started with your usual morning routine. Started off by turning on the coffee machine so you have coffee to have with breakfast and to take to work, sort out your clothes, and much more.

But all of your plans of following your morning routine perfectly are ruined when you walk to the bathroom.

You’re just now standing in the doorway, hearing the shower running at full strength, and, obviously, occupied. Sure, you could use the other shower in the guest’s room, but you still need to grab your essentials inside this same shower to do it.

Your plans to make up with Jake disappeared from your mind for these exact seconds. Why is he still in the shower? By this time, he should’ve been more than done with the post-workout shower and already in the living room or something.

You walk inside the bathroom, looking at yourself in the just small fog that is appearing at the corners of the mirror. He probably didn’t start showering that long ago since the room doesn’t even feel hot yet. You let a sigh out loud and begin to undress.

You have to take a shower. You don’t have much time before work, and today also wouldn’t be the first time you’d do it with Jake with you. So, no problem at all.

Your shirt (originally Jake’s) is thrown into the laundry basket and so is your underwear, and, with only two steps, you’re standing by the shower. Jake doesn’t even react when you pull the curtain open. Yet, what he does not expect is to hear you get in behind him and close it back up. Something in his chest flourishes at the idea that maybe, just maybe, you’re going to talk to one another and be okay as always. But your silence continues.

Jake does consciously give you some space to stand in the shower too, even when he’s deep in his own mind, but when your eyes meet, that grin appears on his face. It’s this cocky grin that he does a lot, and you know it’s just to tease you.

“Good morning.” He tells you.

Your silence and look of no readable expression are enough to confirm Jake’s suspicions. You’re still mad.

You stand in front of him as he gives you space under the showerhead, and you turn your back to him, letting the hot water cascade down your body. Your silence continues as Jake stares at you as if you’ve grown 2 more heads, and he still lets his eyes look you up and down. You shut off the water and reach in for the product you need.

Jake hasn’t lost hope, in fact, this exact moment is fueling his mind with ideas. He leans in closer to you as you begin to scrub your arms with the soap, and you pause at the feeling of a pair of warm lips laying a kiss on your shoulder.

Your body likes to behave in ways you don’t want it to when it comes to your boyfriend, but, thankfully, you get back to washing yourself as before. Jake doesn’t stop when you go back to what you were doing. His kisses begin to move up your shoulder to the crook of your neck and eventually your neck. You try to ignore the chills running down your body. His kisses are simple against your skin. They're wet and loud in the silent shower. You can feel him stand mere inches behind you, and you can only swallow in dry and keep on going.

Jake then puts two and two together to understand that you’re trying to ignore him completely, not just his words. You’ve done this before, and it ended in a way he’s very proud to say was 5 minutes later. He can always try and see if he can make it faster.

He nips at the skin of your neck, and you almost flinch, so, he changes to your other side. The kisses are soft, and you’re constantly fighting your own body as your eyes want to close and force you to enjoy it. You can’t let them. Jake takes a step closer and lays a kiss on your head as well. You continue on with the soap, moving on to your chest and stomach, as well as ignoring him as best as you can.

“Still mad at me?” He whispers right into your ear, and he doesn’t get any sort of answer, “Because when I woke up to see you all cuddled up with me, I thought we were okay.”

You don’t let his words get to your head but you do almost gasp (again) when you feel his hands lay over your hips. You focus on keeping your breathing steady and seemingly unaffected and keep working the soap throughout your body. Jake pulls you back and closer to him, and you feel his chest against your back. You still don’t react, but you do put down the soap to just work the product with your hands.

Jake watches as you do it, his hands still by your hips and his head just beside yours. He watches as you spread the soap all throughout your naked body and continue to ignore his presence. One of his hands lifts and starts working the soap on your skin slowly. His hand is bigger than yours and harsher than yours, but it moves slowly and softly. No touch is harsh. His other hand eventually joins in, and you try to be petty to the point of washing over his hands, acting if they’re not there, but he doesn’t let you. He holds your hands as soon as they try to move over his. His arms still hold you, and he pulls you closer to him.

You don’t try to pull your hands away from his, but when he places a kiss on your cheek, you look at him. Jake is surprised to see you finally do it, but the look you're giving him is so unaffected at first, that it almost scares him. That is only until he notices that small little bit of defiance in your glance. After all, you’re playing as much as he is.

He lets go of your hands and, as you don’t move at first, his hands do and they continue to wash you. His palms and fingers spread the soap further, not hesitating into moving to your breasts. You don’t stop him. His skin works against yours as if with no problem. He does know every little inch of your skin as if it’s his, he has touched it, seen it, and tasted it many times before.

It’s when his hand begins to move over closer to your chest that you finally move. You grab the soap back to try to continue to wash the rest of your body, and Jake snatches it from your hand. You, now empty-handed, follow to see how the soap is taken into his hand and disappears behind you. You almost let yourself laugh when you feel the soap against your back. One of his hands lays the soap and the other one spreads it. You let him do it, and then, you stop feeling it.

You wait for only a few more seconds, acting as if you're still washing the already scrubbed skin, and finally turn around to look for your soap. You’re faced with Jake using your soap across his hairy chest, from both of his pecks to his abs, and you try to disconnect the part belonging to your petty brain from your horny brain for a little bit. He does the same thing he did to your back, one hand on the soap, and another one on his skin.

You watch him, trying to act as unbothered as possible, and wait to have your soap back. You look at his chest, forcing yourself to never get the urge to touch him or anything of the sort. When he’s done, even with his arms and shoulders - which you forced yourself not to stare at for too long -, you reach to get the soap back. But, unsurprisingly, Jake doesn’t let you take it.

“Do you want it?” He asks you as you just stare at the soap, “That comes with a price.”

You could not hold yourself for giving him a glare. He smiles at your annoyed expression and pretends to offer you the soap, but when you go to grab it, he pulls it away all over again. He leans closer to you and puts his hand (and the soap) behind his back. You look up at his face and wait for him to speak.

“You gotta ask.” He tells you, “First if you can have it, and, secondly… If I forgive you.”

Your glare was not held back yet again.

“Are you going to do it?” He asks you.

“Just give me the soap.”

He smiles down at you with his perfectly white straight teeth and leans his head closer to yours. He expects you, since you are mad, to pull back or away from him when he does it, but you do not move a muscle. Your noses are almost touching, and he still smiles down at your frowning face.

“Are you still mad over yesterday?” He asks you in a whisper.

The silence in the tiled bathroom almost makes his voice appear louder than it really is, and his words haunt your brain.

You continue to stare at him, from his smile to his eyes. You notice how his smile subsides a little and it’s substituted by his grin instead. His eyes continuously stare back into yours.

“Give me the soap.” You say very slowly while tilting your head a little higher.

His hand appears from behind his back, but you don’t take it just yet. You stare back up to see he hasn’t moved much, and his eyes appear softer now.

“Are you going to let me take it?” You ask, just in case.

“Are you going to stop ignoring me?”

“Are you going to apologize?”

Jake stays silent for just a little bit.

“Are you?” He asks in return.

You lean your head back just a bit to take a better look at his face and see how he just awaits your answer as much as you do his. He brings his face a little closer, and you let him. Your lips are almost touching and, under his breath, you hear him whisper.

“No deal, then.”

You bring your hand up and smack his pec, making the man laugh in your face and stand up straight once more. You turn around to look for an extra bar of soap, and Jake glues his body to yours right away. His arm is laid around your chest, and you try to ignore it as you keep looking.

He starts laying kisses on the side of your head now, then around your ear, your cheek, your temple, and your forehead. He takes his arm from around your chest and brings his hand with the soap back to your body. He washes your skin, moving down to your hips, ass, and thighs.

You let him do it. Why wouldn’t you? If you’re going to be late to work for sure at this rate, might as well go in knowing that you can make your boyfriend your servant every morning. Jake becomes so invested that he even turns you around to keep on going.

You watch him as he does everything with such a concentrated stare. Something inside of you made you forget what you were just doing seconds ago, noticing how soft and tender he’s being after being so terribly annoying.

“You missed a spot.” You say, eyeing your knee.

Jake can’t help but laugh at what you say, and you lift your leg to point at the so-identified ‘unwashed’ spot. Jake does as told. When the soaping is done, you watch as he throws the little bar over to its usual spot and begins to use his hands to work all through your body. He eventually comes back up and pulls you flush against him.

“Any more spots I missed?” He asks you.

That shouldn’t have made you laugh, or smile even, but it did. A small chuckle, one carried with an exhale, escapes your mouth, and Jake swears that he has never been prouder than in that exact moment. His slippery hands continue to hold you against him, and your hands move over to his forearms, planning on pushing him away.

You still don’t talk to him. God, you don’t even open your mouth to do so. Jake stares at you and swears that if he has to hold you in place and wait an hour for some sort of response, he will do it. Oh, and he would do it in a heartbeat.

You notice his need for your answer. Your boyfriend has always been determined to get what he wants, and that is why you open your mouth to speak. Words do not come out, though. Not a thing does. But you do lift your hand from his arm and turn on the water above you, surprisingly startling the pilot glued to you.

His hard work, all of the scrubbing and soaping around is washed with the water cascading the both of you, and you still haven’t said a word to him. So, even under the water, he holds you tighter to him, and you feel it. You look up at him and, when noticing that it’s easier said than done to stare into his eyes, you distract yourself by bringing water to his chest with your hand and letting the water wash away the soap.

It’s out of nowhere but, suddenly, Jake leans down and kisses you. It’s a peck, a simple kiss, just lips on top of lips for a few seconds.

The warm water is now hitting his shoulder and shielding you from the spray, and he begins to part his lips. You shouldn’t have kept on going with him. You should’ve stood your ground as the determined woman that you are. You have responsibilities for this morning, such as your work and the coffee machine in the kitchen. You know that. But Jake will always be hard to say ‘no’ to.

The kiss never becomes wild or desperate but does evolve into making out. One of your hands stays on his pec and the other one comes to hold the back of his head. Kissing made you forget your worries and your childish ways to fix real-life problems, and, deep down, you know you need to have him close to you all over again.

Jake is the one that breaks the kiss, and that leaves the two of you to stare at one another. He lifts a hand off your body and turns off the water, leaving the two of you in awful pure silence once more. His hand comes back to your body as you continue to stare at him, and Jake’s mind continues to try to remind him of his plan.

“I will still need an apology to continue on.” He whispers.

That breaks the bubble you were just in, but you don’t let him notice it.

“So do I.” You tell him too.

Jake squeezes you close to his body, and you swear that your torsos have never been this close, there is not an inch of skin that isn’t touching. He moves and takes a step closer to you, only to force you to take one step back due to the lack of space.

A clear gasp escapes your lips when your back hits the cold wall and, before you even have time to complain or send some sort of threatening glare at your boyfriend, he kisses you yet again. This time, it takes you way less time to kiss back.

The wall begins to warm up with your own temperature, and you feel one of Jake’s hands let go of you. Your fingers cling onto the wet strands of hair at the back of his head and even move further up to grab the longest ones. You only pull him to bring his mouth closer to yours - if that is even possible - and a groan leaves Jake’s lips, vibrating against your own.

He separates his lips from yours and begins to leave down a trail of kisses all the way over to your neck. It’s the kisses on your neck that almost make you melt and become one with the surface behind you. The warmth of his mouth, the softness of his lips, the sensation of his tongue. All of it just to leave a trail of so desperately good kisses on your skin.

Jake’s vacant hand comes back to you, smoothing over your skin in the meantime. He palms at your hips, your ass, your thighs, anything that he can get a hold of. This was his plan to make you speak your sorrows and forgiveness, but he swears that it’s beginning to backfire.

He brings his lips back to yours, and you let out a small moan against his lips. Jake swears that sound alone is sacred, something carved from the world’s best, and it all reaches his ears simply because he is making you feel good while not doing much at all. He would be stupid to not consider himself lucky to have you.

The sounds of making out fill the empty bathroom, they appear louder and that only motivates the two of you to subconsciously deepen the kiss and grip each other more tightly. It doesn’t make sense how it works. It’s some sort of hypnosis that you give one another with just each other’s presence.

Before Jake can get lost in his plan even further, he pulls away from the kiss. He can feel the way your hand grips onto his hair to pull him back to it, but he doesn’t do it, he just stares at you. Your hand slides from the top of his head to the back yet again, and your touch almost makes him forget everything. He seriously needs to concentrate.

“Why did you stop?” You whisper innocently.

He leans in closer to you, acting as if he’s going to kiss you again, but he doesn’t do it.

“I need to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” You whisper back to his mouth. Your mind has gone foggy after what just happened.

“Your apology.”

Your body goes rigid, snapped awake from your dreamland. You two are too close up to have this conversation, you can’t even look at his face right. Lack of patience grants you your next move. Your fingers cling onto his hair, and you push him away from your face by the strands. You look angry, angry at him.

“You really like to ruin things, don’t you?” You ask him, making his smirk reappear.

He doesn’t answer, he just grins proudly at himself.

You pull at his hair, and he inhales sharply at that. Your hold on his hair relaxes once he's distant enough, but he brings his face closer to yours again, unaffected by your actions. He looks at your angry face and pecks your lips just one time. The two of you can’t stay mad even if your life depended on it, so, Jake likes to abuse that theory.

“I’m not saying it until you agree to say it too.” You tell him before receiving another kiss on your lips. 

Jake’s hand on your body begins to work the path it was making during your long kiss, and it squeezes and explores your flesh while the two of you stay silent.

“Say it.” He whispers against your lips.

His hand moves downwards and grabs onto your thigh. He grabs it and holds it to his hip. You let him do it, already feeling the flame awake at the very bottom of your stomach. 

“Say it.” He repeats. “Say it, and I’ll give you what you want.”

Some sort of warm shiver works through you, and you bring your mouth closer to his. He pulls back, giving you the same space as before. He presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth and brings his mouth to hover back over yours, but he doesn’t kiss you anymore.

“Say it with me, then.” You whisper back at him, trying not to smile at him. “We can say it at the same time, and it all will be done.”

Jake analyzes your face for a while, and nothing suspicious is noticed. You want to laugh at your plan or smile at the very least but you can’t. You need to focus. You work your fingers through his hair and remember how he was the one that was in your shower at this time of the morning. Exactly when he should’ve been out and about by then.

You need to remember the cause.

“On 3?” You ask him with a tiny smile.

Jake, still unaware of your plan, actually agrees to it, and you swore that it made your heart squeeze at it. Poor thing.

“One…” You whisper against his lips before pressing a kiss on his lips, so short yet so loving at the same time, “Two…” You do it again, yet this time Jake almost chases you, “Three…” There’s a beat of silence, “I’m so…”

You don’t finish your words, but Jake does.

“I’m sorry.”

By the time he gets to the last letter, he notices. He didn’t get or act mad at you, he chuckles against your mouth and pulls you in closer to him.

“Oh, you’re in trouble, now.” He says against your mouth, louder than a whisper.

You giggle when he attaches his mouth to yours, and he lets go of your body to grab onto your other thigh. It’s risky to do such a thing in the shower, but you seriously have much else to focus on.

You disconnect from the kiss to jump into his lap and wrap your legs around Jake, propping you up higher on the wall. You laugh your way up and then look down at your boyfriend. He still looks surprised that he was defeated after trying out his plan, but, right as you cradle his face close to you to kiss him, he forgets it.

His hands squeeze and hold you by the back of your thighs, your bodies are wet and glued to one another.

Midway through the kiss, he moves his hips against you, making you let out one of those heavenly sounds all over again. He’s hard against you, he has been for a while now. You deepen the kiss when he lifts one of his hands and begins to move his body to somewhat create a distance between you.

You can feel the tip of his cock between your folds in a space of a second, and you sigh into the kiss. You’re wet and have been ever since he was spreading the soap throughout your body. It’s with ease that he slides right in.

“Fuck.” He grunts when the two of you have to forcefully separate your kiss to breathe.

You move your hands to his shoulders and close your eyes while leaning your head on the wall. Jake is stretching you like he always does, and it feels way too good. Your walls squeeze his cock tightly, and your boyfriend breathes heavily at it.

You bring your lips back to his before your hips completely attach, and the two of you freely moan against each other’s mouths when it happens. Jake stays in place for just a second, giving you time to adjust to him.

Your entire body feels like it’s going to implode with how much you can feel and how much you missed every bit of this. When Jake begins to move his hips against yours, you cling to him and separate from the kiss to gasp for breath. He presses you against the wall and, sensing the low temperature of the tile, you gasp as another sort of shiver runs through you.

Jake begins to really move and his cock begins to easily slide back and forth inside of you. His hands on your thighs grip them forcefully. He watches as he slides in and out of you, his length collecting your slick and moving with such ease inside of you. Your walls grip him each time, and the sight of your naked wet body before him is just another reason for his body to burn under his skin. 

The two of you try to kiss but it’s a lost effort. The pleasure is too high. It's some kind of turmoil in your stomach, tightening and twisting at every movement each of you moves. Every time you bring your moths together for a kiss, it's a plan lost. Your minds are going blank and blind to your objectives, completely lost in the pleasure.

You begin to move your hips as well, and Jake can only hold you tighter to him. Even the feeling of your wet torsos sliding on one another seems stimulating. Your boobs squished into his hairy chest, your stomach against his abs, his hands digging into your soft thighs. Everything feels too good.

“Jake” You moan his name right after you moved your own body to meet his thrusts. Your boyfriend groans into your skin, feeling your soaked warm walls squeeze his cock as he watches your face just above his. Your face frowned with pleasure while sweet sounds come out of your mouth time and time again.

“So good, baby. So good.” He whispers into the skin of your chest.

The sound of your skin slapping together is heard in the bathroom from time to time during the deeper thrusts. The bathroom is so silent and so echoey that you can hear everything. When you’re able to kiss, you can hear your lips connecting and disconnecting. You can also hear your breathing against one another’s mouths. You hear the wet noises of his cock going in and out of you. Everything.

Your hands move all throughout the skin that you can reach. You go from Jake’s hair to his neck, shoulders, and chest. Everything feels like him, everything feels exactly how you want it to feel. Your breasts move with each of Jake’s thrusts when you lean back on the wall, and your head falls back onto the tiles each time he brings his mouth to your skin.

The two of you aren’t sure why everything feels so good. It could be from not talking to one another. Going from not receiving any attention or touch to feeling all of it. Jake loves to feel your hands on him, and he loves to move his own around every inch of you. He swears that sometimes he holds you a little tighter because he can’t believe you’re even real, let alone his.

“Don’t stop, Jake, please, don’t sto-” You whisper breathlessly into his mouth, cutting yourself off with a moan.

He’s able to let go of one of your legs as it alone squeezes him closer to you, and he lets that same hand explore you. He holds your waist, your hips, your breasts… Even your face. Your kisses keep on going, sometimes being able to last a little longer than before as you're able to concentrate even when the pleasure keeps on building up.

You moan loudly against his mouth as soon as Jake's vacant hand finds your clit. His fingers move over the small nub time and time again. You move your body just as a mere reaction to his touch. There wouldn’t be a way that your own hands could ever compare to his, and you swear that he knows your body better than you do. He knows where and when to touch, where to kiss, where to squeeze, how to thrust, how to pinch, how to do everything.

Your orgasm approaches much sooner than you expect. The burning never really stops exploring your body and running through you from every artery and then every vein. Your body glues itself to Jake’s, wanting more of him attached to you. You whine into his kiss when you can’t exactly have that, and Jake just wraps his arm around you and squeezes you to him. He will always know what you need.

You detach from the kiss, letting out a moan of what seems more like a sob, and Jake keeps doing everything that you need. Even when his hand isn’t over your clit anymore, everything else is enough. His mouth on your neck, his hand digging on your thigh, and the way his thrusts just get more and more precise to exactly where you need him the most. It only takes him one more thrust, and you come absolutely undone around him.

The orgasm is so powerful, that your ears ring, and your vision goes white. Your body tenses up and relaxes in various ways and moves exactly like it did not too long ago. Your walls squeeze Jake’s cock and wet him to the point of the sounds becoming nastier and more addicting to listen to. And he cums right after you.

The two of you ride your highs together, bringing your lips to one another even if it's just to have that extra bit of skin touching. When done, you two kiss, and you can only lean onto Jake.

When you put your first foot down, Jake is still supporting most of your weight, yet you can still feel your leg shaking. That makes you chuckle, and Jake notices it just like you do, helping you stand when he lets go of your other leg.

You wrap your arms around his neck when both feet are on the ground, and his arms wrap around you securely. You look at one another for a few seconds, trying to be back to a normal heartbeat and breathing rhythm.

“I’m sorry.” You finally decide (and remember) to say it back to him.

Jake’s face washes in confusion.

“For what?”

You smile at him and shake your head as you begin to laugh. It takes the blonde a great bit of time to understand what you could possibly be apologizing for and, by the time he does it, you’re shamelessly giggling at him while leaning your face into his chest.

When he chuckles with you, you look back up at him and bring your hand to the back of his head to pull him into a kiss.

“You’re lucky I love you.” He tells you with a smile.

“I am.” You answer back with a smile of your own.

Before he could say anything, you turn back the water and let it practically hit Jake straight in the face. Your giggles fill the bathroom once more, and, all of a sudden, your laughter is broken with a gasp as Jake is able to reach in and turn the water to cold while you’re right in range.

Your laughter eventually comes back and it is then muffled with a kiss, making you melt onto him.

Hope you liked this!! Feedback is always appreciated <3

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