#hangman drabble

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Congratulations on 4k, babe! 🎉

How about “You’re an Idiot,” “I wish I was your idiot” “What” with Hangman?

Ahh thank you!! Since some of you expressed interest in these two, here's another drabble with brother's best friend, Hangman <3

4k Celebration Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend - Part 2

Jake Seresin x Reader

“Do you have to do this right now?” Jake asks, putting his hands on his hips as he stands before the kitchen table.

You give him a flat look before returning your attention to the laptop you’ve got set up in front of you. “It’s due tomorrow,” you say. “Don’t you have anyone else to play with?” you add sarcastically.

Jake groans, plopping down into a chair to your left. He looks exceptionally bored. “Bradshaw’s got a date,” he says with an exaggerated scowl.

“I do?” you respond with a smile.

Jake grimaces at you. “The other Bradshaw.”

You purse your lips. “Maybe next time.”

Jake leans into the table, eyeing you suspiciously. “Who’re you gonna date?”

You glance at him over your screen. “What do you care?”

He shrugs indifferently, leaning back into his seat. “Just curious.”

Although you’ve been crushing on your brother’s best friend for as long as you can remember, you’re also quite accustomed to his frequent company, and his present pestering behavior is nothing new. Still, you want to know why Jake Seresin is curious about your dating life. Of course, you ask nothing of the sort and, instead, say, “Beat it, Jake. I haven’t written a sentence in over ten minutes.”

Jake throws you a mischievous smirk. “Am I distracting you?” he asks playfully, sliding his chair closer to you so he could nudge you on the shoulder.

You exhale sharply and slam your laptop shut. “Seresin!” you roar. “Do you mind?”

Jake grins at you widely. “Oh!” he says in mock surprise, pointing to your closed laptop. “Are you done already?”

You seethe. “I’m going to kill you,” you growl.

“Come on!” Jake exclaims. “Entertain me!”

You let out a frustrated sigh, burying your face in your hands as you rest your elbows into the table. “Jake, why don’t you just go on a date?” you whine, glancing over at him pleadingly. He’s adorable but if you don’t finish your paper by 9AM, you’re screwed.

Jake lets out a chuckle that seems to fizzle out the moment it leaves his mouth. “Because you’re busy?” he says.

You roll your eyes and open your laptop back up. If only he knew how much you wish those words were true. “Just sit quietly,” you say resignedly.

Jake spins around in his seat and inclines backward, resting his head on your lap with a sigh. “’Kay, but, do I have to sit?” he asks, raising his legs up onto an adjacent chair so that he’s sprawled between your lap and two other chairs.

“How is this comfortable?” you ask, glancing down at his smiling face.

“Actually,” he replies, adjusting his shoulders and head while your stomach endures a whirlwind of emotions in response to his proximity, “This is quite nice.”

You shake your head. “We have a couch,” you remind him, placing your hands back on the keyboard, ready to return to work.

“This is better,” he says, closing his eyes.

You snort. “You’re an idiot,” you remark.

“I wish I was your idiot,” Jake mutters, keeping his eyes closed.

Your hands freeze and your heart leaps into your throat. You lower the screen of your laptop once more. “What?” you say breathlessly. Surely he’s joking. Or dreaming. Or –

Jake opens his eyes to meet your gaze. “Sorry,” he says. “I’ll stop talking now.”

Read Part 3

#jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin #top gun #glen powell #hangman x reader #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake hangman x fem!reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman fluff #hangman x you #hangman drabble #jake seresin drabble #hangman blurb #jake seresin blurb #jake seresin x you

[birdy-bat-writes]

Coffee for Mrs. Seresin?

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem!Reader

Content warnings: Pining, fluff, and uh.... caffeine? Mild swears, Maybe some banter. I have no clue what qualifies as a warning anymore, I'm so sorry, y'all:') Also, sorry for the spelling, grammar, and punctuation errors.

A/n: Should I be doing math right now? Should I actually be sleeping right now? Yes and yes, BUT no one can blame me. I was reading an adorable Jake Seresin Fanfic by @roosterbruiser (everyone go read Millie's work, it's gold) and I got an idea and I had to write it somewhere so here:D

You were pretty used to people assuming you and Jake were an item. When an attractive guy and an attractive girl have been friends since college and spend as much time together as you both do, you suppose it's a fair conclusion for people to draw, but an incorrect one, nonetheless. And you really wish people would stop asking because every time you had to explain to someone how you were "just friends," it ate you a little more inside.

The fact of the matter was this: you were in love with your best friend. And it sucked.

You stepped out of your car and strode along the stone walkway amidst the grass up to Rooster's door and rang the bell. It was a cute little townhouse with a blue exterior and you often poked fun at him for how much it resembled a little wooden birdhouse with its colorful walls and white wood-rimmed windows. You suppose it's fitting since Rooster lives there and yes, he hates that gag. It also serves as your group's prime hang-out spot, which is why you're here now.

The door opened to reveal Natasha, wrapped up in an oversized sweatshirt with her hair thrown up in a claw clip. "Yes, you brought chips!"

"Yeah, you didn't really specify which flavor so I just got them all." You said, walking in. "Guests should start coming in an hour, right?"

"Mmm-hmm." The 7 of you were throwing a casual party to celebrate Jake's promotion to Lieutenant-Commander. You saw Nat lift her eyes and smirk. "And there he is, the man of the hour." You turned around to see Jake at the end of the staircase.

"Well, hello, Mr. Man-of-the-hour," you teased, setting down the numerous bags of chips you were holding.

"Glad you're finally here, N/N. I was starting to think you were going to leave me here to fend for myself against Rooster's ABBA medley." Jake wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. It was always like this. Him giving you butterflies you had to ignore because there was inevitably some other girl.

"Oh please, I would never leave you to fend for yourself against Rooster. I would join him and together, we'd overpower you and make you listen to ABBA forever." You grinned up at him and he narrowed his eyes, lips quirking up at the corners.

"Betrayal never comes from an enemy, I see," he shook his head at you. "I will leave you, lovely ladies, to yourselves. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen." You watched Jake walk away and disappear around the corner. When you turned back, Natasha was still wearing that smug smile she always did when she saw you two. You knew it was coming.

"Nix, I'm telling you, if you say it, I'm salting your coffee." She knew you were messing with her but one of these days, you might just do it.

"All I'm saying is, shoot your shot! Come on, just once before you go settle for this rando."

"Mark is not a rando. We know him from accounting!"

"Exactly, Y/N, we know him from accounting. You don't even like the guy, heck you hardly know him."

"Exactly. That's why we're going to get to know each other at this party. I need to get over this crush, now. I can't keep pining for a guy who has no interest in me," you saw Natasha's mouth open as if to say something and you quickly jumped in, "And don't say he's interested. He's been with other girls multiple times and never once looked at me like that."

"True, I won't argue there. He's never looked at any of those girls the way he was just looking at you either." She took her hair out of her claw clip and it fell onto her shoulders in soft waves. "And ever since we all got back from that mission 3 months ago, he hasn't been with anyone. I really think he's got a thing for you but you're right. You should give this Mark guy a shot if you think he'd be good for you."

You smiled softly. You met Jake's friends when you were in San Diego a few years back. About a year ago, you were permanently stationed here and luckily for you, Jake was too. He settled here about 4 months before you. All his friends became your friends, and you've truly never known a better group of people. And they'd never known someone who could wrangle Hangman, so you were quite quickly welcomed to the group.

You and Pheonix tossed your sweatshirts upstairs and fixed up the last bits of your outfits just in time for guests to start arriving. You even managed to slip in a game of cards with Fanboy, Bob, and Payback before you joined a crowd in the living room. You barely felt the tap on your shoulder. If it wasn't followed by your name, you surely would have missed it. You turned on your heel to see Mark from accounting, facing you with a hand in his pocket.

"Mark, hi!"

"Hey. How are you?" His voice was almost monotone. His eyes roamed the room rather than meeting yours. He had just gotten here and he already sounded like he wanted to be somewhere else. You could have sworn he sounded more lively when you met.

"I'm good. I thought you weren't coming till later."

"I got off work early."

"Ah, well that's great." This guy really wasn't giving you much to work with. "Can I get you something to drink? There are drinks and food in the kitchen." That actually went somewhere. You headed to the kitchen where the conversation just barely picked up.

In the distance, Jake noticed your prolonged absence. As silly as it was, Jake liked knowing you were near him. You didn't have to be attached at the hip but he liked knowing he could saunter over to you and escape into your laugh when you came up in his mind. Which was a lot.

He scanned the room for you and stopped when he caught your frame in the kitchen...with some guy? Who the hell was that?

"Damn, if looks could kill...," Rooster muttered. "Do you not like that dude or something?"

"I don't even know who he is," Jake said through gritted teeth. "What's his name?"

"No clue. Pheonix?"

As if on cue, Natasha spoke up. "That, my friends, is Mark from accounting." Both the boys looked at her with questioning eyes.

"Okay, but who is he?" Something in Jake's voice was different now. Both of them looked at him.

"Careful there, Bagman, you almost sound jealous. He's some guy Y/N knows and I think she likes him." Phoenix was searching Jake's face for any sign that she was right about his feelings for you, and he never noticed because his eyes were trained on you like a hawk.

"I'm not jealous, Pheonix."

"You kinda sound jealous, Hangman," Rooster added, earning a glare from Jake.

"Okay, when we first met and you told me about her, you sounded so lovesick, I thought she was your wife. Cut to, you introduce us all and it turns out you're not married, or dating, but friends? I'm sorry, I do not believe that you two don't have feelings for each other." Natasha's remark sparked something in Jake. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk so small, she almost missed it.

"I'll be right back." Jake stated, already pacing away. Rooster and Pheonix watched Jake make his way into the kitchen.

"She likes him too right?" Rooster asked.

"Oh, absolutely," Pheonix responded.

"You know, Fanboy has a betting pool on them."

"What? Get me on this, I have a feeling we'll make some money tonight."

Jake entered the kitchen to see you sitting alone at the table. "Got room for one more?"

"I don't see why not. Shouldn't you be mingling with everyone out there?"

"Well, the person I want to mingle with is in here." You smiled at him. There it was again, that smile that always left him utterly defenseless. "Who's the guy?"

You don't know why you felt your cheeks heat up when Jake asked about him. "His name's Mark. I met him when I was sorting reports last week."

"Okay. So, why do you sound so upset?"

"Because he said he was going to get us drinks 5 minutes ago and I just saw him leave with Commander Reeves' daughter." Honestly, you weren't upset because he left. You were upset because you were glad he did. He was boring you out of your mind and you two absolutely did not click, but it was still disheartening to know that this is what it was going to be like. No guy was going to measure up to the one you wished you were with. The one who was at this table with you now.

Jake was seething. What kind of idiot comes to a party and leaves you for some other girl? "You wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"Let's leave. I'm bored."

"It's your party, you dork, you can't just leave!" You were giggling at a feeling somewhere in between confusion and disbelief.

"Yeah, it is my party so I say, you and I get out of here." He took you by the hand and walked you out through the back door to his car. And you let him. The chilly air swept you both up.

The drive was pretty calm. You didn't know where Jake was going but you didn't care either. This reminded you of when you two were younger. The long quiet rides in the car with no one but each other for company. He'd put on some cheesy 80's power ballad and you'd both laugh at it until you'd give in and belt it out at the top of your lungs.

"If you don't mind my asking, what did you see in him?"

"I don't really even remember. I think I just wanted to try and get myself out there. I haven't been on a date in literally years."

Jake hesitated before he asked. "So... what made you want to start now?" You felt the words catch in your throat.

"I'm not sure." you lied. You. I'm in love with you and I can't take it.

You felt the car slow down. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't even see where Jake parked. A cute little coffee shop and patisserie. Jake got out of his car and rounded the front to open the door for you. He already had you head over heels for him and he didn't even know it. Did he have to be such a gentleman? You weren't sure that you could fall even harder for this man but you really didn't want to find out.

"Why don't you get us a table and I'll get us something to drink. Don't worry, I remember what you like." You nodded and found a two-seat table by the french windows overlooking the city. On the left, in the distance, the last light of sunset was hitting the water and the top of the sky had started to go dark. Little stars twinkled above you. You wondered what it would be like to always be like this? Evenings with you and Jake, running off alone together from places and people you didn't really want to see. Taking comfort in each other's presence because it felt like home. Just then, Jake sat down in front of you. It almost hurt knowing he was right in front of you and you couldn't have him.

"Screw stupid Mark from accounting. He was not worth your time."

"Thanks. It's fine really, I'll find someone else. Someone less boring." When you met Jake's eyes, he looked as if he had something to say. Something he was holding back. "What is it?"

"Don't find someone else."

Did he just- Did you hear him right?

"What? Why?"

"Because-"

"I have a coffee and a latte for Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" The barista called. You actually felt your heart skip a beat. Your eyebrows scrunched together and you looked to Jake for answers.

"Well, I think that's us." He blurted like it answered all your questions, a smile heard in his voice.

"Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?" You queried, rising out of your seat in tandem with him. "Why'd you tell her we were 'Mr. and Mrs. Seresin?!'"

"Because you looked so down and I thought I'd get a reaction from you! And it's not all my fault, Pheonix gave me the idea." Jake stated, matter-of-factly. How could he say that so casually?! "And you're still looking red so I guess it worked."

You both grabbed your coffees and sat down once again. It was dark out now. Once your laughs and giggles over your reaction were out, you remembered where your last conversation left off.

"Jake, why'd you tell me not to find someone?" You didn't force the question too hard into the conversation. You asked softly, not knowing how or if he would answer. He sighed before he spoke like he was preparing himself.

"Because...because I can't ask you out if you're dating someone else." The emotions hit you like a bombshell.

"You want to ask me out?" You weren't sure this was real. You were really about to pinch yourself before he stopped you in your tracks.

"I've been meaning to for months. Y/N, we've been friends forever, and I didn't want to ruin what we have. I know I should have told you before because I've liked you for as long as- Why are you smiling?"

"Because, you big dummy, I like you too." You couldn't hold it back. You were beaming. You felt butterflies and fireworks all at once just because the man of your dreams just made it all a reality. Jake held your eyes in his and smiled ear-to-ear. You swore you saw his ears go red but if you asked him, you doubt he’d admit it. "I'm really happy right now but I have no clue what to do next."

"I've got it from here," Jake reaches out and takes your hand in both of his. It feels like electricity is coursing through your veins. "Y/N L/N, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?"

It took everything in you not to squeal in this coffee shop. "Yes, I will do you that honor, Bagman." You responded. He chuckled at you.

"Every now and again, I feel like introducing you to Pheonix was a mistake."

"Speaking of which, I really want to tell her about this but she'll get all smug because she was right."

"You're right. As far as people we don't have to tell yet go, Fanboy and Rooster have been betting on us. We can just keep it from them for now too."

"Deal." A laugh bubbled out of you as you thought about how the squad would react. And then a knock sounded directly next to you on the french window.

"Aww, cute," Rooster noted, his voice muffled by the glass, but still clear enough for you to hear his teasing tone.

"Left your own party so soon?" There stood Pheonix. Along with the rest of the squad leaning against Bradley's bronco.

"Shit." you commented.

"So much for keeping it secret."

———————————————————————

Tag list:

@glorified-red

#rooster bradshaw #natasha phoenix trace #hangman drabble #rooster top gun #top gun maverick #top gun #top gun x reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun fluff #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #fluff #jake hangman x reader

[ddejavvu]

Pizza Box Puzzle Pieces - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake is a responsible drinker, he swears. But when you're stuck being responsible for the night, a very drunk Jake gives you all but one piece to a puzzle you don't complete until the morning after.

Contents/Warnings: drinking, fem!reader, typical hangman behavior, enemies to lovers (really more like rivals to lovers)

Requested: A thousand times congratulations on such an amazing milestone! Could I please have an espresso w. enemies to lovers with Jake ‘hangman’ Seresin? ☀️ - @saintlike78 THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS SINCE SEPTEMBER I AM SO SORRY MY LOVE i hope you still like hangman &lt;3

WC: 5.3K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

Jake Seresin is a responsible drinker. He keeps a rideshare app on his phone, he tells Bob (the permanent sober babysitter) that he needs to be cut off after 10:00 PM, and he gives Penny his keys before he even orders his first drink.

Tonight, though, she'd left them unattended. There they were, shiny and appealing, sitting on the bar. She had left to get a clean dishrag, he could just take them! Driving sounded fun now, less of a chore and more of an adventure now that his brain was blurry.

You watch Jake's eyes widen as he catches sight of his keys, and your hand darts out to snag them before he can. His reflexes are slow, and when he reaches for them, his hand hits empty counter space.

He looks around, bewildered. They'd just disappeared.

"Here, Bagman." You jingle the keys in your hand, and he catches the sound from the few seats down where he's sitting. His eyes drift aimlessly over to your hand, and brighten at the sight of his keys.

"Thanks," He drawls, his southern lilt far more noticeable now that he's running on autopilot, "I'm gonna-" he hiccups hard, his chest bouncing, "Head home."

He stands, wobbly on his feet, and treads forwards to take the keys from you. You raise them above your head, but he doesn't follow, instead slumping forwards as his hand grasps at thin air. His head hits your chest and Coyote catches your eye from over Jake's shoulder. You widen your eyes, flaunting the keys you'd managed to snatch from him.

All the pilot does is laugh, and then his attention is shifted back to the dartboard. Typical.

"Jesus," You grunt, pushing at Jake's chest. He straightens up again, eyes blinking open from where they'd been shut, "What did you drink?"

"I don't remember," He admits, and that's all the explanation you need.

"Come on," You reach for his pocket, his phone sticking out, "Let's call you a ride."

"Nooo," He darts away, almost too late to evade you, "That's my phone."

"Yes Hangman," You smirk, "I think you're smarter drunk than you are sober."

"But that's-" He fumbles with his cell, "You can't touch my phone."

"I want to get you home," You urge, once more reaching for the device in his hands, "Don't you want to go to sleep?"

"You can't have it," He insists, yanking the waistband of his khakis off of his stomach and slipping his phone dangerously close to his crotch, "Unless you-" Another hiccup that flutters his eyelashes, "-wanna take it."

The smirk he shoots you after shoving his phone down his pants contains lethal cockiness. You're surprised the sheer size of his ego doesn't knock you down, you're not sure how you're standing so close to him without running into it.

You glance down at his phone. It's protruding just enough from his waistband for it to be quick and easy to grab. But your hand has never been that close to Jake's dick before, and you're hoping it never will be.

"Fuck," You deflate, shoulders slumping as your fingers curl tighter around his keys, "Come on, I'm driving you."

"Take my car," He insists, as if he's forgotten you have his keys, "It's.. It's really cool."

"Can't wait," You  gripe, slinging his arm around your shoulders, "Come on, one foot in front of the other, Seresin."

The cold night air hits you like a tsunami. It floods your thin shirt and seeps into your bones, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. You've never known it to get this cold here, and the skin-to-skin that Jake's shoulder provides against your own is your only warmth.

You prop him up against his car while you fumble with the keys, but before you can click the 'unlock' button, he's snatching them from you.

"I wanna- I wanna do it," He insists, gripping the pointed end and bumping it up against the panel on the outside of the keyhole, "It's my car, I wanna.. do it."

You give him a minute to figure out the key. After it passes you yank it from where he's been pathetically butting it up against the hole, still confused about how to slot it inside.

"Gimme," You grumble, sliding the key into the hole with barely a second's delay, "You're too drunk for this."

"I'm not drunk." He scoffs. He says it with so much sincerity, with so much raw belief, that you're surprised that it doesn't come into existence. You're surprised the alcohol doesn't drain from his system completely, and leave him his usual coordinated, upright self. But he's still leaning against his car, half-coherent and dizzy.

"Right." You chuckle, throwing open the driver's side door and unlocking the rest of the car, "Get in, Hangman."

He starts for your seat and you shove him away, "No, not the driver's seat," You groan, "Other side."

He starts for the backseat.

"For fuck's sake," You exclaim, grabbing his bicep to lead him around the car, "The passenger's side!"

You get him wrestled into his seat with no further drunken antics, and you relish the fact that you've gotten him calm for the night. He's anything but when you finally glance up at his face, though, great big tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"You're mean." He whispers, his voice shaky. You've never seen such a pitiful sight, his big green eyes brimming with anguish that seeps down his cheeks in rivers of tears. "You grabbed me, and-" He waves his bicep at you, "And you manhandled me," He gushes, angst-stricken, "You're mean!"

"I'm sorry," You sigh, playing into his inebriated sorrow, "Are you okay, Hangman?"

He doesn't note the sarcasm in your voice, sniffling pathetically, "No. It hurts."

You offer a quick pat to the affected area, but he shakes his head.

"Kiss." He offers in explanation, 'Kiss it better."

"I am not going to-" You begin, rage evident in your voice. Then you glance back up at his eyes, filled with new tears.

It's a staring contest for a moment, but you break first. You hunch, bracing yourself for the most humiliating thing you've ever had to do when you pucker your lips and press them into his bicep.

It's firm. Fuck, you wish it wasn't, it holds up under your lips and warms them. It's intoxicating, your lips on his skin, so close to his chest. It's exhilarating. You have to get away.

"There." You grouse, practically glaring at him despite the blush at your cheeks as you straighten, "Better?"

"Yes," He whimpers, and it's small, broken, pathetic, "Thank you."

You shut the door without another word, letting him wipe his own tears.

His car is surprisingly nice. Where you'd expect fast food wrappers and condoms, you find an air freshener.

He grabs it excitedly, shoving it into your face as you start down the road, "Darlin' you gotta- gotta smell! It smells like ocean breeze."

It slips over your eyes and you strain to get away from it, "Okay, Hangman, okay! It smells very nice," You gush, giving him the attention he's seeking. He preens proudly as he hooks it around his mirror once more, but he doesn't settle into his seat.

"Those are cool jeans," He prods a finger at your thigh, and even though you know it's drunken rather than lustful, his touch makes you shiver.

"They were five dollars," You humor him, feeling him fiddle carefully with the ripped strands of fraying string showcasing your skin.

"Cheap." He murmurs, concentration far too heavy on rearranging the strings. Half of them have ripped beyond repair from where they were stretched over your thigh, but he seems to be playing with them like they're yarn to a housecat. You have the sudden urge to run a hand through his hair and see if he purrs.

"My house is that way," Jake points blearily through the windshield down a one-way street, "It's the big blue one."

"You live in an apartment," You turn the wheel in the opposite direction, "And it's not blue, and it's not that way."

"Oh so you-" He hiccups, "-know where I live?"

"I do," You nod, keeping your eyes on the road even when his fingers keep pawing at your jeans, "I've been there before. Remember? We had a movie night."

"Oh yeah," He nods, brow furrowed, "Payback spilled his water on my carpet."

"Not water," You snort, remembering the cheap liquor spilled over the shag, "But yeah, he did."

There's a bout of silence that follows your words, shadows ripping through the car as you pass beneath trees. The road is paved unevenly in a few spots, and Jake's car bounces on its tires.

"Woah," He grumbles, head bumping your shoulder after a particularly raucous pothole, "Look! Look they're in a- a heart."

You slow to a stop in front of his apartment and glance down to where his finger is digging into your thigh. The loose strings on your jeans have all been twisted and tied into a heart that overlays the rip, puffy and frayed where it rests against your leg.

"Oh," You let the sincerity of the gesture steal the breath from your lungs, even if it does come out of a drunk man, "That's pretty, Hangman. Thanks."

You unlatch your seatbelt, breaking his trance. The heart, tied at the bottom and woven through other strands at its apexes, stays tightly knotted into your jeans, and you wonder if you'll ever be able to get it out. It's the last of your concerns, though, as Jake fumbles with his own seatbelt.

He finally jabs just right at the button, though it's after a string of mumbled frustrations. You swear you hear something along the lines of "You're pretty." thrown into the mix, but you choose to ignore it so that your hands don't get sweaty. You probably misheard.

It's a wonder that he's able to get himself out of the car. He lands with a crunch of gravel onto the driveway of his apartment, feet planted firmly beneath him. You suppose he might have sobered slightly during the long, quiet drive, and you're just glad you don't have to press him to yourself anymore to keep him upright.

Thankfully, he knows which door is his, but he forgets that you have his keys. You keep a hand stuffed into your pocket, curled around them, while he fumbles in his pocket for them.

“Damn,” He hisses, patting his pockets and coming up empty, “My- my keys are gone. I think someone took them, we have to-”

“I have your keys,” You’re far too smug as you hold them up, the ring hooked over your middle finger, “Remember? That’s why I drove?”

“Oh.” His brows furrow, and the word adorable flashes through your head before you can stop it. As soon as you acknowledge it, though, it’s gone in a puff of smoke.

“I’ll do it.” You carefully shoo his hands away from the door, slipping the key in and turning it. His apartment is neat, you’ll give him that, but you suppose it’s because he doesn’t have time to mess it up. You toe off your shoes in the doorway, leaving them in a heap which he contributes to. His boots are going to muck up your white wedges, but you can’t care about that right now. What’s more important is making sure Hangman doesn’t head straight for his own liquor stash, which of course, he does.

“No,” You rush for the bottle he’s about to grab, “You’re cut off for the night. Remember?”

“No,” His brow furrows, and he stares at your fingers wrapped around his own against the neck of the bottle, “I don’t.”

At least you know he’s being honest. You pry his hand off of the bottle, setting it back on the counter and letting go of his fingers. You expect them to drop but they don’t, they curl around your own and slot your palms together.

You stiffen but he doesn’t seem to notice, his hand still enveloping yours in a gesture that sends heat rushing up from your fingertips and straight to your heart. You glance down first, then up at him, finding a gooey, lovesick smile on his face paired with empty eyes.

“Hi, darlin’.” He gushes, and squeezes your hand.

Fuck.

“Okay, bedtime.” You decide, trying to pry your hand out of his grip. He won’t let you, though, the more you pull the closer he gets. Until he’s pressed to you, his right thigh to your left, chest-to-chest, smiling contently at you. 

If you can’t make him let go, you suppose you can move. So you do, you lead him through the short hallway, and flick the light on in his bedroom. His room is.. less neat. There’s clothes on the floor, and what looks dangerously like an old pizza box sticking out from under the bed. You decide to ignore it for time’s sake, your main goal is to get Jake into bed before he tips over.

He looks close to it now, stumbling towards his nightstand to snatch a necklace off of it. It’s a delicate silver chain, and there’s a pretty heart pendant on it.

“Look,” He shows it off, “‘S my mom’s. She gave it to me before I came down here.”

“That’s very sweet,” You croon, and all of a sudden you want to know more about Mama Seresin, “I think I’d like to see you wear that someday, Hangman.”

“That’d look silly.” He muses, eyes shiny as they rove over the charm, finally putting it down to look back at you, “But if you’d really like it I’ll do it.”

You suppose that if anything comes out of his drunken stupor, it’ll be a hell of a lot of blackmail material. Apparently he’s blabby when drunk, and you’ll definitely ask why he’s not wearing his mom’s necklace tomorrow when you meet for breakfast.

“Okay, Jake, let’s get you changed.” You hum, glancing around his room and peering apprehensively at his dresser. You turn back, intent on asking him which drawers you should avoid opening, and are met with-

“Jake! Put- put your pants back on!”

Your hands fly to your eyes to shield yourself from the sight of Jake Seresin’s Uncovered Crotch, but you forget that he’s still clinging tight to you, and he stumbles along with you. All you can do is let out a strangled cry as his outer thigh presses against yours, praying nothing else will.

“Put your boxers back on,” You beg, “And- and get into pajamas! Oh my god.”

“Yeah,” Jake giggles, far too inebriated to read the room, “That’s what they all say.”

“I hate you,” You groan, and finally, he lets go of your hand.

There’s absolute silence for too long, but just before you can urge him to hurry up and get dressed, he speaks.

“You do?”

HIs voice is unlike you’ve ever heard it. Jake has a particular talent for boasting, and his voice often bleeds confidence, loud and strong and clear. Now it’s small, unsure and weak.

“Get dressed,” You huff, “With pants, please.”

You’re not eager to admit it, but you don’t hate him. Not at all. Sure, he annoys you, but he annoys everyone. He shoves confetti through the slats in your locker so that opening it triggers a snowstorm, he steals food from your plate when his own is nearly full, and he always, always knocks his knuckles against your helmet. But he’s never mean, he’s never insulted you or pushed you or demeaned you. So you can’t find it in yourself to hate him, even if you don’t always like him.

Or maybe you do. Maybe you bite back a smile when you find confetti on the ground, and maybe you bend over with your back to him just in case he likes what he sees. Maybe you steal his food right back, and maybe the best part of your day is when you make it a competition, and he practically crawls over Fanboy to try to nab a piece of your orange chicken. Maybe the rapping of his knuckles on your helmet makes you want to respond by bumping it against his chest, an urge you’ve never dared to act on.

Feigning hatred is much easier, you’ve found, than admitting love.

His voice cuts through your thoughts, still devoid of its usual enthusiasm, “I’m dressed.”

You let your hands fall to your sides with a relieved sigh, and though your vision is somewhat bleary from being covered for so long, you work with it, blinking until you can see his form, already under the covers on his bed and facing away from you.

“Okay,” You hum awkwardly, glancing around the room, “You’re gonna need medicine in the morning. And water, so-”

“Pills are in the bathroom cabinet, there’s a cup on the counter.” He drawls, voice muffled by his pillow.

You bustle off to gather those, and when you reenter his bedroom you find him staring at the wall. It’s a sad expression, an empty one, but you suppose that’s what binge drinking does to a man.

“I’m gonna head out,” You speak to his back, setting the pills and glass down on his nightstand, “Are you.. gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” He hums, “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” You mumble, more than ready to flee the awkward scene, “Bye, Jake.”

“Do you really hate me?”

You freeze in the doorway, heart thudding in your chest. You turn slow, your eyes meeting Jake’s before your body faces him, giving you enough time to figure out a response.

“No,” You speak carefully, “I- I was just teasing, Jake. I don’t hate you.”

“You’re sure?” He peers up anxiously at you, looking more like a scared child than a naval aviator, “You really don’t?”

“I’m sure,” You nod, gracing him with a soft smile to soothe his nerves, “I don’t hate you, Jake.” “Okay,” He breathes, his frown flattening out into a neutral expression as his eyes drink you in, “Thanks, Y/N. For taking care of me.”

“Anytime,” You promise, and you mean it more than you’ll let on, “Get some rest, Jake, we’re meeting for breakfast at nine tomorrow.”

He nods, and that’s your cue to leave. Your shoes are still by the door, and you slip them on, fiddling with the straps. When you straighten up from where you’d hunched over you spot Jake’s keys where you’d left them on his entryway table, and realize he won’t know where they are in the morning. You don’t want him to panic, so you scoop them up, knowing that his door auto-locks behind him as a part of the apartment’s security features. You’ll be able to leave without the keys, and he won’t be at risk overnight.

You pad quietly back into his room, intent on setting the keys by the glass of water and leaving. But you realize that he’s already asleep, the magic of booze eliciting soft, even breaths from him that ricochet off of the pillow he’s smushed against and blow his hair back. You stifle a giggle at the sight, and pride yourself for how much self control it takes not to record it.

You set the keys down, and your heel catches on the pizza box beneath his bed. Your nose wrinkles, and you decide there’s no good reason for Jake to be keeping old food under his bed, of all places.

You pick it up and it feels nearly empty, prompting confusion on your part. Pizza is not weightless. 

Maybe you should, maybe you shouldn’t, but you decide to flip the lid open. You brace the box on his nightstand and pop the top, your eyes landing on a collection of memorabilia inside, not cheese and bread.

You recognize a chubby baby as Jake himself, a slightly aged photo that looks delicate. You bite back a soft smile, but decide that his baby pictures are none of your business, fingers ghosting over the lid to shut it once more now that you know he’s not hoarding Papa John’s beneath his mattress.

Just before the lid closes, your heart stops. Your eyes catch a picture of just about the last face you’d ever expect to see in a pizza box under Jake Seresin’s bed: your own. It’s a picture of you talking to Payback, eyes shut and crinkled at the corners, mouth open in a laugh you’re sure was less-than-graceful at whatever the other aviator had said. You pick the photo up, pushing away a jewelry box that’s lying on top of its corner, and finding dozens more of your squadron beneath it. There’s one flipped on its front, and Jake’s scrawled sharpie over it, ‘Rooster being dumb. 6-07-2022.’

Upon inspection, the photo is of Bradley making a fool of himself. He’s halfway to the ground, foot caught in the sand as he topples over. You remember that day, you’d all laughed when he’d emerged with a mustache-full of sand.

You flip the photo of yourself, brows furrowing when the description is less-than-understandable.

‘Third time. 5-03-2021.’

Third time.. Third time you’d… laughed at Payback’s jokes? Definitely not, he’s quick on his toes and surprisingly witty.

Thumbing through each photo of you and your friends, the descriptions are all simple. ‘Natasha losing a bet’ showcases her rare defeated look, and of course Jake would have that documented. ‘Fanboy exhaling lemonade’ is self-explanatory, the substance shooting out of his nose in response to the Bradley-Sand-Mustache incident. The only ones you can’t figure out are your own, ‘First time. 4-25-2020’, ‘Second time. 10-10-2020’, and even, ‘Relapse. 9-14-2022;.

For the life of you, you can’t figure them out. You realize that you’ve been sifting through Hangman’s personal possessions far longer than you should have been, stuffing them all back inside the pizza box and sliding it beneath his bed. Something strange and confusing clouds your brain as you make your way to the front door, and you barely remember to listen for the click of the automatic lock when you leave.

Your apartment isn’t far from Jake’s, it’s only a few streets down, and you’d hitched a ride with Omaha to the Hard Deck anyways. You won’t make him pick you up to drive you three blocks.

There’s something infuriating about knowing that Jake writes about you in code. It’s like a mental game, and you’re losing. You ponder it all the way back to your apartment, and you dig your own keys out of your pocket to get yourself inside.

Your determination to figure Jake’s code out only transforms into insomnia, and you fall asleep at nearly three in the morning, alarms set for five hours ahead, wondering if you’ll ever find out what they mean.

--

Surprisingly, for how you’d left him last night, Jake is the first one to show up to Team Breakfast. Your typical spot at the local cafe is inhabited by none other than Hangman, checking his watch to see how late everyone was running so far.

“You’re here early,” You marvel, and his head shoots up to meet your gaze. He grins sheepishly, nodding, “I had too much of a headache to go back to sleep.”

“Oooh,” You laugh, “Tough luck.”

“Yeah. Reckon’ I drank a lot last night?” He asks, already grimacing in expectation of your response. 

You take a particular pleasure in nodding, “You tried kissing Bradley.”

He hadn’t, at least, not on this particular occasion. Rooster has gotten his fair share of Drunk Hangman Love, as have you all, but this time he’d stayed away from anything too intimate.

“Shit,” Hangman grimaces, screwing his eyes up and plunking his chin to his chest, “I thought you said Bob was gonna start watching out for that?”

“He did,” You snort, “He saw it about to happen, and left before you could do it to him. He watched out for himself.”

Jake mumbles something, probably along the lines of ‘typical’, but it’s as he raises his head again, and the glint of something silver at his neck catches your eye. You squint, hard, glimpsing a familiar heart-shaped pendant pressed to his chest and outlined beneath his shirt.

“Oh my god,” You laugh, “The necklace! You’re really wearing it.”

He bites back a smirk and fits his lips to the rim of his water glass instead, “I told you I’d wear it. I’m no chicken.”

“Send a picture to your mom,” You suggest, “Tell her you’ve got her heart with you.”

His smile dims, something apprehensive in his eyes.

“You went through the box under my bed last night, didn’t you?”

You still at the question, your eyes wide, “What?”

“I heard you,” He admits, “I’m- I’m not mad, or anything. I just.. I know you did.”

“I’m sorry,” Even if he’s not upset, you feel awkward, like a kid caught elbow-deep in the cookie jar, “It was none of my business, I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” He shakes his head, reaching back for the clasp on the necklace, “It was your business. Is, if..” He hesitates, face screwed up in concentration.

“Y/N,” He finally continues, necklace now pinched between his fingers, “This isn’t my mom’s.”

“Oh?” You pry cautiously, “Who’s is it, then?”

“Yours.” He admits, and your brows furrow.

“It’s not mine, I’ve never had one like that. I- I guess someone must have left it at your apartment or something, maybe Phoenix?”

“No,” He sighs, eyes screwed shut, “I mean- I mean I bought it for you.”

“You,, you bought that necklace.. for me?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “Did you see the box in there?”

You nod, recalling the teal case.

“I bought it for you for your birthday last year. Chickened out before I could give it to you, though. That’s why I had to give you half a bottle of whiskey.”

His lackluster birthday present made a lot more sense now.

“I know you saw the pictures I’ve got of you,” He continues, keeping his eyes on the pendant of the necklace that he’s pressing against his thumb, “I just thought.. I’d get everything off my chest.”

“First time..” You recall, and he raises his eyes to you questioningly.

“The pictures of me,” You prompt him, “On the back, you had little.. notes? Captions? Whatever, they said first time, second time, third time, relapse. What did those mean?”

He stares at you, the prolonged eye contact making you squirm.

“You sure you don’t hate me?” He asks, just as timid as he had the night before.

“Jake- of course I don’t hate you!” You promise, “Just- tell me, please?”

“They’re every time I fell in love with you.” He murmurs, and your entire world stops spinning. You’ve built it carefully on a foundation of Jake-directed sarcasm and a healthy distance away from your fellow aviator, and when the word ‘love’ slips from his lips the foundation crumbles. You feel everything collapse, every witty comeback, every dramatic eye-roll, every logical pushback. Nothing remains, except love. The word, the feeling, the sound of it coming from his mouth. 

Apparently the demolition of your entire world takes too much time. Jake cringes, tucking the necklace into his fist and going to pocket it, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- fuck, I should have just shut my mouth. I won’t bring it up again, we can just forget this, and-”

“Stop,” You reach for his hand, covering his closed fist with your open palm, “Give me the necklace.”

He unfurls his hand, slowly, unsurely. His eyes linger on you, and he watches as you carefully scoop the jewelry from his palm, your fingers delicately brushing over the heart.

“You really love me?” You verify, keeping your eyes on the silver charm so that if this is some sick joke, you won’t see him break the facade. You won’t see the adoration in his eyes turn to mockery, the love to hatred.

“I really do,” He promises, “And I know that I’m not the best at communicating that…”

“What with the constant teasing and badgering?” You glance up at him for the first time since his confession, your view of his face obscured by your lashes.

“Yeah,” He grimaces, “That.”

“Can I be honest with you, Jake?” You bite the inside of your cheek, regretting admitting what you’re about to say before you’ve even said it.

“Yeah,” He breathes, and you think he expects the worst.

“I kind of like it,” You admit, and his frown breaks. 

“I knew it,” He gloats, his grin wide and bright, “I knew there was a reason you never say anywhere I couldn’t steal your food.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You groan, closing your fist around the necklace, “I haven’t responded to your confession yet, have I, Seresin? Don’t get too cocky.”

As much as you’re teasing him, he takes it seriously. His grin dims, and his eyes soften, worry pooling in his irises.

“I..” You start, eyes on the heart that still lies in the rips of your jeans instead of his own gaze, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” You think you’re starting to like his voice when it’s not brash and cocky, instead sincere and a little timid.

“I do,” You nod, glancing back up at him, “And.. I don’t really know what to do about that. I tried to ignore it, because we work together, and because I wasn’t sure you liked me back, but.. I do love you, Jake.”

“That,” He smiles, real and genuine, “Is something I’ve wanted to hear you say for years, darlin;.”

“Well. you should thank your inebriated self last night,” You laugh, letting him take the necklace from your fist and unclasp it, “You’re very touchy when you’re drunk, and I may or may not have seen your penis.”

“That’s.. not something I remember.” Jake grimaces, pausing with the necklace open in his hands, “Was it.. I mean- did you.. like it?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” You advise Jake, leaning forwards so that he can wrap his arms around your neck, “I’m not talking about your dick at brunch with our friends.”

“They’re not here yet,” He murmurs, and when you lock eyes, you take in the fact that he’s only inches from your face.

There’s a soft click as he clasps the necklace against the base of your hairline, then he drops it to your neck. The chain is cold, but Jake’s hands are warm where they smooth over your cheeks. You let your lashes flutter shut, lips already slightly puckered, waiting for the press of his own over them. You can’t be but a hair’s breadth away from kissing Jake when a shrill scream comes from the parking lot, and your eyes snap open with a start.

You turn, but he doesn’t release your face, instead pressing his cheek to yours as you both look for the culprit. It’s not Natasha you find with her hands clamped over her mouth, but Rooster, though the former is smirking.

“We carpooled,” She informs you, elbowing Bradley in the side, “We were only five minutes late, and you guys have already sucked face?”

“I gave her the necklace,” Hangman reaches over to show off the charm around your neck, “I, uh- asked for Phoenix’s help buying it. I didn’t know what you’d like.”

“Thanks,” You laugh sheepishly, though you’re not sure who you’re talking to. Maybe both of them, “Uh, is that Fanboy’s car?”

It is, tires crunching against spare bits of asphalt as he turns into the parking lot.

“Coyote’s in there, too,” Hangman groans, pulling back from where you’d been smushed together, “Let’s hope they didn’t see.”

“Oh, we’ll tell them,” Natasha promises, and her laugh can only be described as maniacal, “They each owe me $20, they thought she’d say no.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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[stargazing15]

A dad Jake blurb

Because dad Jake, I don't think there is any other explanation necessary.

Sorry, my brain can't come up with a title

Enjoy!

***

He was proud, so fucking proud of himself.

Jake had the week off and came to you with the proposal to take care of everything to lift some weight of your shoulders. Of course typical Jake, to gain some much deserved mommy & daddy time with a big smirk on his face.

So you made your husband the list, oh yeah the list with everything: grocery shopping, your daughter's schedule (from kindergarten to toddler gymnastics and what not to forget to bring with you), cleaning, ironing and not to forget the cooking. Maybe you were going to take over the ironing, just to keep all the clothes safe from burns.

Back to the present. He was walking from his car to the gate of the school, flaunting with your daughter on one hand and her backpack in his other. Sunglasses on, a tight white t-shirt showing off the muscles underneath and his dog tags visible. Jake had always liked the attention his looks attracted, but only yours and your daughter's mattered to him.

He flexed his armmuscles now and then so that every boy in your daughter's class knew not to mess with her, Jake was making sure of that, she has a strong daddy. All the 4 year olds were looking at him with their mouths open, so did their moms.

Now it was official, your daughter was holding the title of kid with the hottest coolest dad.

"He is eyecandy." "Look at him." "I am so going to get a divorce and mark him." "I call dibbs on him."

The comments stroked his ego, but he didn't care about them anymore, so he ignored them, giving all his attention to the little girl holding his hand.

After his little catwalk moment with your daughter, though Jake crumbled and got on his knees to hug the little girl and wave her goodbye.

He was proud, very proud, he brought her finally to kindergarten by himself. He could do it, everything.

"Jake!" Oh, that is a familiar voice.

There were you, did you forget he was bringing her to school?

"Forget something?" He quickly imagined the bring to kindergarten-list en checked off everything.

"Nope sweets. Everything has been taken care off."

You bring forth the lunchbox you were hiding behind your back. "Lunchbox?"

"Oh. Here sweetheart, dad forgot your lunchbox, good thing we still have mommy. Give her a kiss and go conquer school. Have fun." He said while putting the lunchbox in her backpack.

"Bye mommy, bye daddy!" And off she was.

"He is married?" "That's his wife?"

"How lucky am I that I have you? I love you sweets."

"Very lucky, love you too Jakey." He kissed you in front of all the moms, he kissed you with so much love and passion that you were already looking forward to the mommy & daddy time later today.

"Ew mommy and daddy!" You both heard your daughter scream from the playground.

Jake was a proud man, very proud that he can call himself your husband.

***

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @cycbaby @mavrellover91 @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @xoxabs88xox @jstarr86

Tagform

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[sebsxphia]

i do not have an accent…. but when i’m tired or angry my fun lil southern twang pops out and i’m imagining being in your early relationship with Jake and him hearing it and just losing his mind

oh my god, i love this so much dear anon 🥹

i can imagine this if you’re staying round jake’s home around a month into your relationship. it’s early in the morning and you’re rushing to meet your mum. you’re in a rush because said boyfriend, the handsome, tall and blonde, texas aviator, kept you in bed a little longer than you had anticipated. worth it though, of course.

you’re riffling through the drawers in jake’s hallway in a hurried attempt to find your car keys. “where the fuck…” you let out a grunt in frustration as they’re still nowhere to be seen. “where in the god damn, hell, are they? my ma’s gon’ kill me.”

you huff out again and look up at jake, who’s leaning against the wall with his eyes wide and his jaw nearly on the floor, yet a small smirk tugging on his lips. he looks smug and it irritates you even more.

“what?” you snap.

“that!” jake playfully points his finger at you, flexing his bicep muscles candidly. “what was that?!”

“what was what, jake? my keys! my god damn keys!” you’ve admitted defeat and broken into frustrated laughter at your stupidly handsome, shirtless boyfriend, walking towards you with his award winning smile.

“again! that southern twang, you’re a god damn southern bell aren’t you?” he wraps his large arm around you and pulls you flush against his bare torso, his other hand coming up to gently cradle your jaw. you’re melting into his touch, no longer frustrated and your cheeks are turning a rosy pink.

“i’ll help you find your keys, but you have to promise me one thing?”

“yes?”

“come home from your ma as soon as you can, because i want my sweet southern bell all to myself.”

eheh thank you so much for this dear anon! 💌

#💌you’ve got mail #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin drabble #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fluff #jake hangman imagine #hangman drabble #hangman imagine #hangman fluff #sebs masterlist

[seasonsbloom]

all in. (hangman)

pairing ; jake seresin x female!reader

synopsis ; you make jake's dreams come true. aka the face sitting fic

wc ; 2.7k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; literally just filth; established relationship; face sitting; like one mention of choking; dirty talk; tiny bit of spanking; some power dynamics but nothing crazy; oral (f!receiving); one mention of public sex

note ; a lot of people wanted this pls don't blame me. technically part of the bad habit universe but can 100% be read separately!

title from lovesick by banks.

Jake looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm.

“Or maybe, like… not,” you backtrack immediately, feeling the blood rushing into your cheeks. “Forget I said anything. It doesn’t matter, it’s fine, never mind….”

“Sweetheart,” Jake says, enunciating very clearly, from where he’s still spread out on the bed, propped up on his elbows. “What the fuck?”

You can’t look at him. With his tousled hair and the bare skin of his chest, with his eyes still a little bleary from his nap and the pillow indents on his face. He’s so fucking hot, and it drives you crazy, clicks your brain off temporarily. That’s how you got here in the first place.

“Forget about it,” you mumble and go back to stuffing t-shirts into a drawer. The air still smells like laundry detergent.

“Say it again.”

Jake has this thing he sometimes does. When his voice goes just a little stern, a little tense, the tone clipped with a mixture of authority and anticipation that leaves no room for argument.

Immediately, your knees go weak, and before whatever part of your brain is responsible for logic can talk you out of it, you’re saying, “I want to try sitting on your face.”

And that’s a lot for a Tuesday afternoon.

In the few months you’ve been with Jake, you thought most of your inhibitions were swept away in the waves of filth he seems to spew like he gets paid for it. You’ve fucked all over his apartment - in the kitchen and the living room and the shower - and you even had a pretty memorable moment in a bathroom at the Hard Deck that ended with your soaked panties stuffed into his service khakis.

Now you find that, apparently, there’s still some shame left in you.

You can’t look at him, so you stare down at the paisley print of the bed sheets. The weight of his gaze crawls across your skin.

“You want to sit on my face?” Jake repeats, his voice simmering with a low heat that travels straight from your ears down your spine.

“Only if…” You bite your lower lip, shrug, feel your heartbeat kick up a notch and then another. “Only if you want to.”

Jake laughs, and the sound startles you. You glance up at him, his tanned body awash in the dimming afternoon light, the sheets folded like mountainsides around him.

“Honey,” he says, “I think I told you to sit on my face the first time I ever fucked you. Fuck do I want this.”

It always makes you giddy to hear he’s just as hungry for you as you are for him. It’s all the time too, in the morning, in the evening, at dinners with your friends and his hand way too high up on your thigh. Incredible that either one manages to get any work done in between Jake railing you to the brink of consciousness.

“Come here,” he says and stretches his arms out to you.

You go immediately, always so easy for it. The mattress dips beneath your weight, the sheets crinkle where your knees dig into the fabric, and then his mouth is on yours, his fingers tangled in your hair, his tongue slips between your teeth. It’s the warmth of familiarity, of knowing what it is that makes him tick the same way he does, and it lights a spark inside of you.

Jake fucks his tongue into your mouth a few times, sloppy and filthy from the beginning. There’s no use for pretending, for coyness, for pleasantries, not after so much time together. You know who he is. 

His thumb drags down the front of your throat, and he presses down just once, the barest hint of pressure. Against his mouth, your breath hitches. It’s a promise of something else he’ll show you, something else he’ll offer, and you’ll deny first, scared and curious in equal measures, and then you’ll come back in a few months and ask for it. And he’ll give it to you. It’s the way it always goes with the two of you. A familiar dance.

“Look so hot,” Jake whispers into your mouth, tugging at the edge of your shirt. His shirt, really, old and worn and holes littering near the collar. “Had me staring at this little ass every time you bent over.”

An open palm lands on your asscheek. It’s not forceful enough to hurt, but the sound of skin on skin claps through the air regardless and you yelp, jerk forward.

“Hey!” you call, pushing away from him, but Jake just laughs and pulls you in again, pulls you over him, arranges you so your legs fall open around his hips, so he can drag you down towards where he’s half-hard in his boxers. 

Then he’s grinning up at you, hair still a mess, eyes still lidded with lassitude, but something else sparkling behind them too. He keeps his hands high up on your legs, cupping the backs of your thighs, thumbs digging into the skin.

“You did it on purpose?” he asks, his pointer finger traveling up and in, inching slowly, ever so slowly, towards where you know slick is beginning to gather. “Not wearing any panties so I can get a good look at your pretty pussy?”

You’re shaking your head in protest, but the effect is diminished when the hand around your thigh tightens and you moan.

“No,” you gasp, and it’s pathetic considering you’re rocking down against him, voice breaking when your clit catches against his dick, settles on the fabric of his boxers, “couldn’t… dryer’s not through yet.”

He grins, and you can’t describe that expression as anything but devious. “So you decided to walk through the house without panties, huh?”

You shrug even though you’re already teetering on top of him, stomach clenching rhythmically. “It’s just you,” you say.

Jake hums, using the leverage on your legs to pull you more forcefully against him, your center moving over his length. Voice a tad breathless, he says, “And I get to see your pussy any time I want, huh? You gonna let me get a good look soon as I ask, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Embarrassment curls low in your chest, but you barely notice it. Not with the shivers racking up and down your back at his words, not with the heat he pours into your veins. He knows the answer, of course, as do you, but hearing him say it is exhilarating every time. Because you’re Jake’s, just as he’s yours.

“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Anytime.”

Jake’s grin grows. “Good girl,” he says, then he taps the side of your thigh. “Now get up here and sit on my face.”

The nerves get the better of you somewhere over his chest, and you hover, hesitance roaring its ugly head. What if I crush him? that’s all you can think, and you bite your lower lip, sink your fingernails into the top of your thighs.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “I thought I told you to get up here, didn’t I?”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, shrug, say, “I don’t… maybe this is a bad idea.”

Without looking at him, you make a move to climb off, but Jake’s quicker. He catches you by the wrists, lets his fingers slide down over the plane of your palms and tangles them with your own. Pulls your arms down into the sheets on either side of his head.

“Do you really not wanna do this,” he asks, “or are you just getting cold feet? Cause one we can work around, the other we can’t.”

You glance at your interlocked hands, his skin against yours, and shrug again.

“Not an answer, honey,” Jake reprimands gently but firmly.

The longer you’re with him, the more you understand that Jake isn’t really someone you can lie to. He’s painfully perceptive, at least when it comes to you. Like he’s attuned to your every minuscule expression, every dip or rise in your voice.

You sigh and nod. “I’m nervous,” you admit.

“Nervous about what?”

“I don’t know….” You blink into the sunlight streaming in from the window just to avoid his eyes. “Maybe you won’t like it.”

Jake scoffs. “Honey, I think about eating your pussy up in the air so often it’s a wonder I haven’t gotten discharged for dishonorable conduct yet.”

It punches a laugh out of you. He’s ridiculous.

And then the apprehension trickles back in, sudden and dousing.

“What if like… I choke you or something?”

Jake rolls his eyes at the same time he squeezes your hands. He says, “If I drown in a pussy as pretty as yours, I think I’ll get a medal. I mean, what a way to go.”

You untangle one hand to swat at his chest, but Jake just laughs. With you on his chest, he can’t possibly reach your lips, so he turns his face to the side and presses a tender kiss to the top of your thigh that has your stomach seizing.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he mumbles into your skin. “You won’t choke me, okay?”

The fear hasn’t completely dissipated, but Jake seems so eager, so confident, that it reassures you at least somewhat. “Alright,” you agree slowly.

“Thank god. Now would you please finally sit on my face?”

He doesn’t really wait for you to comply, just gets his second hand out of your grip, too, both of them finding the tops of your thighs again, and tugs you the last few inches up unceremoniously. Your clit bumps against his nose, your knees dip the mattress by his ears, and you yelp, you gasp, you whimper.

Below you, Jake hums, and you feel it against your pussy, feel the warm exhale of his breath, feel your whole body clench in answer.

"Taste so fucking sweet," he moans.

Jake wastes no time, diving in straight away. He plants a single kiss on your clit, then lathers his tongue all around it, spreads his fingers wide and firm on your hips, and pulls you more securely against his mouth. Like he really wants to make good on that prospect of drowning in you.

It’s a weird position, balanced on top of his face as you are. There isn’t really anywhere to go except down, down against his mouth and his tongue and his chin and his lips. Gravity makes damn sure of that, drags your weight to him, onto him, into him. You feel strangely tall, towering over him as you are with Jake pressed flat to the mattress.

Then he thrusts his tongue into you without preamble, and a strangled shout rips from the back of your throat. You teeter precariously, hands coming forward to brace yourself against the headboard with a resounding thud. Your head spins like one of those wheels of fortune at a fair, round and round in rapid circles.

Jake fucks his tongue in and out steadily, presses his nose into your clit, and you swear you’ve never been this wet before. With the position, it just seems to pour out of you, streams of it, and then you think of his face smeared in you, the evidence of what he’s doing to you staining his chin and his neck and his cheeks, and your eyes roll backward in your head.

“Been dreaming of this,” Jake whispers as he draws back just a little, his voice rough. Another kiss to your clit, almost tender if it didn’t send currents of electricity through you that sizzles somewhere in your fingertips. “You on top of me, my face in your sweet little cunt… god, sweetheart, you don’t know how fucking hard this gets me.”

Part of you wants to turn around, reach over your shoulder and find out, but Jake’s mouth latches back onto your pussy, wide open and wet and hungry, and it’s all you can do to whimper, to grab onto the headboard for dear life. White-knuckling the wood.

His fingers tighten on your hip to the point of pain, and it takes you a moment to realize what it is he wants. Then it’s nothing but obedience, logic having no part of it. Instincts only, your whole being reduced to nothing but bare, primal basics with Jake’s tongue shoved into your pussy.

You start moving your hips slowly, carefully, still scared you might hurt him somehow. Still scared he won’t like it.

But Jake’s answer is enthusiastic, to say the least: Fingers clutching even harder, tongue fucking deeper, a moan that vibrates all the way up to your chest.

Tossing your head back, mouth opening around the shape of a keen you don’t let out, you press your eyes closed and let the heat wash over you. Swallow you. Burn away any last traces of propriety or apprehension or thought.

It’s just this now: Jake’s mouth on you, Jake’s fingers on you, Jake curling around you and beneath you and inside you. Jake everywhere. Even the bedsheets smell like him, the shirt you’re wearing, your hair from using his shampoo in the shower earlier - cinnamon and spice.

Every time you rock your hips forward, it knocks your clit against the tip of his nose and has your stomach clenching. Every time you rock back, Jake’s tongue is already there to meet you, the wide wet stretch of the muscle spearing you open.

You’re pretty sure you’re close to tears, lower lip swollen from the sting of your teeth. You can’t even stay upright, slump against the cushion of your folded arms against the headboard.

Jake’s fingers leave your hips once he’s sure you’ll maintain the motion that has you riding his face the way you ride his cock, trail down to sink into your ass instead. To knead it, to spread, to tug you forward with more force, to help you along, or maybe to take you apart completely.

With Jake, you can never be sure if it’s his kindness or his sadist streak that is at the wheel.

You can feel it building, feel it gathering in the pit of your stomach. Tension tightens every muscle now, everything locking up, your toes curling and mushing into the sheets, your mouth open and leaking drool onto your own forearm.

“Jake,” you whimper, press your eyes closed tighter until stars reel across your vision, fuck yourself forward and sob at the open pressure of his mouth, “Jake, I’m gonna… Please, please, I….”

You don’t even know what it is you’re asking for. You just can’t take it anymore, you can’t, it’s going to take you apart, it’s going to crack you open, it’s going to bowl you over, it’s going to…

You think Jake is saying something, but it’s muffled by your cunt in his mouth, by the blood rushing in your ears, by the roaring, screaming, deafening jackhammer of your own heart. It sends even more tremors through you, your thighs shaking, trembling, and then his fingers tighten in the flesh of your ass, his tongue drags a long, long, long stretch from your hole to your clit, and then he wraps his lips around the swollen bud and sucks, and you’re falling.

The tension drains out of you all at once, a lighting of relief, and you’re sobbing, you’re babbling, you’re chanting his name as the pleasure washes over you. As you fall apart in the best of ways, with your nerve-endings on fire and your body numb and not a single fucking thought in your brain, nothing but good good good so fucking good.

You’ve got nothing left, melt into a puddle right on top of him, go sliding off his face on a wave of spit and cum and drained energy. Jake is whispering something in your ear, gathering you against his chest and peppering kisses to the top of your head. His face is wet with you, sticks to your hair.

You can’t help it. It makes you grin.

“See?” Jake whispers, nudging his nose against your cheekbone. That’s damp too. “That wasn’t so bad, now was it?”

The answering grunt you give makes Jake laugh.

“God,” he says, and when you glance at him through the curtain of your lashes, too tired to open your eyes all the way, he’s the picture of debauchery: cheeks flushed, hair a mess, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips swollen, face wet and glistening with your cum. Where you’re soaking into the fabric of his boxers, your cunt clenches just once, makes you hiss softly. “That was so worth the wait.”

You can’t help it. You agree.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman #mine #drabble #hangman drabble #f:bhdrabbles #hangman smut #top gun smut

[kryptonitejelly]

This is Jake’s kid government naming him!

https://www.instagram.com/reel/CsjoXIgpDC3/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

It is!!! (context)

Disclaimer - Please don’t come for me on accuracy on institutional workings. This is just for fun and fiction

-

It is truly a sight to behold, Commander Jake Seresin striding into base with a mini version of him nestled in the crook of his arm. They have the same green eyes, but her hair is slightly darker than his is. His expression is same as always, indifferent but tinged with just that bit of smugness. His uniform is as it always is - crisp, fitted, well pressed, and it stands in stark contrast to the clash of colours the child in his arms has donned, all complete with a tiny tiara adorning the top of her head.

The unlikely duo attract stares, as they make their way towards the main building, the sound of the non stop babbling of the little girl in Jake’s arm eliciting smiles and a number of chuckles from those that pass.

“Well what do we have here?” The distinct voice has Jake’s daughter twisting on his arms, her head whipping around excitedly as she tries to find the owner of the familiar voice.

“Uncle Braaaaaaaaaaadley” the little voice yells out as she flails around, legs scrambling to be let down to the ground. Jake obliges, bending at the waist to place her down. She’s off running the moment her sneakers hit the ground, body hurtling towards Bradley who catches her with the familiar ease of someone who was clearly a father himself.

“Hi princess,” he says, tapping her tiara lightly as she responds with a giggle, tiny hands slinging themselves around his neck. Jake sighs, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he watches. It had been years since he and Bradley stopped making a dig for each others throats, but that didn’t mean that Jake didn’t feel the slightest bit of chagrin at the fact that his youngest’s favourite was “Uncle Bradley”.

He watches Bradley turn his head to mutter something in hushed tones in his daughter’s ear, and Jake knows, knows the moment her eyes light up in glee as they both look to him - deep brown irises and greens as piercing as his own.

“Don-” he starts, only to be caught off by a small but thunderous yell.

“JAKE,” he watches his daughter yell at the top of her lungs as Bradley howls with laughter.

“BRADSHAW.” Jake was going to kill him.

#flyboy #flyboy universe #flyboy drabble #flyboy ideas #jake seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin drabble #hangman #hangman seresin #hangman drabble #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #dad!jake #uncle!bradley

[coconutcordiale]

For your 500 followers celebration I'd love to request a ficlet with Hangman and the girl next door!! ❤❤

pairing- hangman x female!reader

warnings- none idt?? Jake baking? guys there's no smut, no allusion to smut, no angst this is literal fluff (nauseating fluff at that) i don't even know who i am anymore i'm having an identity crisis

length- 0.6k

an- @dempy & anon i hope it's okay i combined y'alls requests :) thank you both sm!!!

we have officially moved away from these fics resembling anything to do with top gun and basically just using jake seresin as a face for my own stupid rom com ish

i probably took the girl next door thing a little too literally but...whatever. also i grew up in suburban california (not lemoore) and we definitely had block parties but is that a thing anywhere else? (someone told me they'd never heard of them idk)

You’re pretty sure the boxes in Jake’s house are still packed since he’s been in Lemoore for all of three weeks, and yet the neighborhood already adores him. You want to find it in you to be irritated that they’ve taken to a single man living alone much faster than they did with you.

You bet Jake never gets any questions about why he’s bought a house before getting married.

Cue eye roll.

To further your annoyance, you’re just as taken with your next-door neighbor as everyone else. You just hope you’re better at hiding it than they are.

(You’re not. But in your defense, you're the only one that comes home to see him vying for neighbor of the year by raking the leaves in your front yard, still in his flight suit.)

As if the dads need to be any more on edge, as if the moms need to trip over their words more frequently around him, Jake brings a pie to the neighborhood block party.

An actual fucking peach pie, that he made from scratch and it’s his mother’s recipe isn’t that so darling?

You briefly wonder if there was any merit to your sixth grade teacher telling you your eyes might get stuck given the amount of time that you spend rolling them.

Jake, the ham that he is, takes it all in stride. Lets the moms, grandmas, and teenage girls fawn over him, lets them pull him all over the party. Spurs it on, really, leaning in so they can get the full effect of his charming smile.

It’d be nauseating if he wasn’t so damn charismatic.

It’s maybe a little embarrassing that you’re so observant of Jake that you can tell when he gets a little uncomfortable, when Mrs. Wilkins runs her hands a little too firmly up his arm, fingers playing with the hem of his shirt where it strains around his bicep.

You’d like to think that his grin is extra warm in your direction when you appear at his elbow, making excuses about how he’s wanted over by the grill.

You try not to laugh as you hand him a beer. “You looked like you needed a save.”

He nods, looking grateful. “Thanks, darlin’.”

“Nice of you to agree to this.” You gesture to the tables of food and endless games of cornhole set up along your street. “They were pretty excited to have a welcome to the neighborhood get-together for you.”

“Walter just wanted an excuse to use his Big Green Egg, I’m sure.”

You snort. “Yeah, probably.”

Jake looks over your shoulder, panic curling in his tone. “Quick, kiss me!”

It’s a testament to what good friends you already are that you don’t even question it, instead leaning into the hand he gently places on your cheek and allowing yourself to be pulled into his hard chest.

His lips are surprisingly soft and you bite back a moan as his hand tangles in your hair. You're a little breathless as you pull back, trying not to let your mind spiral at the gossip storm you're certain you've just started.

“Where is she?”

“Where’s who?” He asks, widening those green eyes in feigned innocence.

“Whoever was coming over here? Was it Mrs. Wilkins again? She isn’t very subtle.”

He grins, eyes sparkling with trouble. “Nowhere, darlin’, just wanted you to kiss me.”

Your lips part in surprise, slapping him on the chest to reprimand him for that sneaky little trick.

“Better stay close though. I think Mrs. Wilkins might have it out for you now,” he continues, snaking an arm around your waist and tilting his sunglasses down so you can see him wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

#queue queue ca choo #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin #hangman top gun #jake hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #hangman drabble #hangman fluff #500 followers celly

[notroosterbradshaw]

“The effort you go to as a parent to lie to your children for years about a fat dude in a red suit,” Jake said, adjusting a gift under the tree to exactly where he liked it. He stood to his height, hands on hips. He grinned. “Is honestly the best.”

You laughed, tossing the Elf on the Shelf in your pocket. “I get it. You love Christmas.”

“Do you have the letter from Elfie now he’s going back to the North Pole?”

“You mean the cupboard?” You corrected your sweet husband, handing him the letter he’d crafted in Canva earlier that day, From the Desk of the North Pole. “Oh, Jake. You’re adorable.”

“You are the only one person on the planet that calls me that.”

“No one else gets to see the lengths you’ve gone to and made sure the kids are giggling by 6am because of the positions and acts you’ve put that damn toy into. Or what I get to see you put that cursed Elf into before you make it so much more kid-friendly.”

He laughed quietly. “It’s fun, I can’t lie. I love the grins and laughter. I’m not usually home for this stuff. To get Christmas home is a miracle in itself,” he reminded you, and looked back at the tree. “These kids are so spoiled.”

“Well, I finished their shopping to the point of respectful. You,” you wandered over and cuddled him from behind, only in his PJ bottoms of the matching family set he insisted you all wear, casually caressing the firm body beneath you as he leaned into your caress. “You were the one who said they needed more.”

“I just can’t wait to see their little faces. It’s been three years since I was home on Christmas morning,” he reasoned.

“You want it to be perfect.”

“I want it to be be perfect for us,” he replied as you kissed between his shoulder blades and he groaned. “You gettin’ fresh with me back there?” He teased.

“Could be,” you hinted. It made you hot to see the effort he was going to to. Not to get you wrong, Jake was a devout husband and father, but Christmas time brought out the best in him. Having him home, and not waiting all day for the promised email or video call on tenterhooks that may not come was a relief although he would bring a certain chaos to tomorrow, of that you were sure.

He turned to face you, the warm white of the lights in the tree the only thing lighting the room.

“I love when you’re on leave,” you pushed back his longer blonde locks (the longest you’d seen in years) and the beard he was intent to grow in until New Year when duty called again. “So unruly and unkempt,” you tutted.

He laughed. “You mean lazy.”

“You’re not lazy, you’re still in the gym with Javy at stupid o’clock and home before the kids get up,” you reminded him, clutching his dogs tags in you grasp.

“Wanna be my best for them. Especially for you,” he confided.

“I wouldn’t care if you were the fat man in the red suit,” you said as he laughed against your lips and kissed you deeply, his calloused palm gentle against your cheek.

“I keep eating all the Christmas treats like I am I will be.”

Untrue, you both knew this. “Take me to bed.”

“Ready for your Christmas present?” He smiled, taking your hand and leading you toward the bedroom.

“Are you on the nice or naughty list?” You asked as he hitched you into his strong arms, hands groping as he stalked you to the bed.

“Always naughty, baby girl. It’s what you love love about me.”

#hangman x reader #hangman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic #hangman fic #hangman fanfiction #hangman fluff #hangman drabble #not edited #mindless fluff

[an-unknown-writers-world]

I Want One

 Warnings: Cheese with a hint of angst.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader  

Word Count: 551

A/N: This is so cheesy and basically wrote itself. I debated posting it, might delete later. I hope you enjoy it.

Jake’s arms were wrapped around your shoulders, your back pressed to his chest, and your hands holding onto his forearms. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you watched your brother and sister-in-law load their two kids into the truck.

 “I want one,” Jake spoke, breaking the silence.

 “Babe, you just got a new truck a month ago.”

 “Not the truck,” he laughed.

 You looked up and followed his gaze, your six-month-old niece giggling in your brother’s arms. “A baby?” You asked, shocked.

 He smiled, the breathtaking kilowatt expression that exposed his dimples and crinkled his eyes. “Yes,”

 “Oh,”

 This was a conversation you had both had a dozen times. You’d never wanted kids before you met him. You had a rough past; you never felt stable or safe enough to consider having a baby before you met him. But Jake came in like a wrecking ball. Every boundary or plan you had set dissolved without a second thought. He didn’t push them or tell you anything negative about your plans. They just no longer mattered. He was safe. No matter where you were or what was happening in the world, he was your home, peace, and sanctuary.

 “Babe,” He spoke softly, kissing the top of your head again, “hey,” he whispered, “look at me.”

 You pulled back and looked up at him, and he wiped the pooled tears from under your eye. You hadn’t realized you had started to well up.

 “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

 Shaking your head, you smiled, “s’not that,” you kissed him chastely. Hoping he’d let it go.

 “Hey, talk to me,” He soothed, his hand cradling the side of your face.

 You leaned into it, kissing the palm of his hand. “Just never thought I could be this happy. Happy enough to actually want to have a baby with you.”

 He chuckled and kissed you again.

 “Get a room!” Your brother yelled from the truck window smiling at the sight of you and Jake.

 You pulled away from each other, both laughing. Jake’s hand coming to rest on your lower back, keeping you tucked into his side.

 “Go home then!” You shouted back.

 “Yeah, we have a baby to make!” Jake shouted.

 You buried your face in his chest. Laughing and blushing. Your sister-in-law cheering in the background.

 “Bout time!” Your brother yelled back. “Love you guys!”

 “Love you!” You yelled back. Both you and Jake waved as they pulled down the drive.

 “I like him,” Jake smiled, referring to your brother.

 “He likes you too. Which is pretty impressive.” You agreed.

Silence passed between the two of you for the briefest moment as you watched your brother and his family slip down the road.

 “I can’t believe you just told my brother we were going to make a baby.” You laughed again.

 “Well, we are, aren’t we?” He shrugged.

 “Yes, but you basically just told my brother to leave so we could have sex.”

 “And?” He smirked

 You rolled your eyes, smiling. It was a pointless, silly argument that you’d never win. “Take me to bed, Lieutenant.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder, a gentle swat on your butt.

 “Jake!” You exclaimed, laughing.

 It was going to be a long night.

A/N: If you’ve made it this far - thank you so so so much for reading! My Masterlist can be found here. All work is also available on AO3    

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #Hangman x Reader #Jake Seresin Reader Insert #Jake Hangman Sersin Reader Insert #Jake Seresin Imagine #Hangman Imagine #Jake Seresin Fan Fic #Jake Hangman Seresin Fan Fic #Hangman Fan Fic #Jake Seresin Fanfiction #Hangman Fanfiction #Jake Hangman Seresin Fanfiction #Top Gun Maverick x Reader #Top Gun x Reader #Top Gun Imagine #Top Gun Maverick Imagine #Jake Seresein Drabble #Jake Hangman Seresin Drabble #Hangman Drabble #Top Gun Maverick Drabble #Top Gun Drabble

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Oooo baby! Happy 4K!! Hangman with “knowing their allergies and medical history while in the ER” please?? 💕

Thank you so much!! Here's some Jake for you! Enjoy!

4k Celebration Drabbles

Brother's Best Friend

Jake Seresin x Reader

You hobble over to the receptionist to get a clipboard with an intake form, wincing every time you put weight on the ankle you twisted missing a step when you tried to join your friends at the firepit in the backyard. To your great excitement, your brother’s best friend (and the guy you’ve been crushing on for the better part of your life), had been the only one in the group sober enough to drive you to the hospital. Unfortunately, Jake Seresin also spent the entire ride over reprimanding you for not turning on the light before coming down the stairs.

You take a seat in the waiting room just as he enters the building after parking his car.

“It’ll be a few hours,” you tell him. “You could just pick me up in the morning.”

Jake gives you an amused look. “And leave you here alone in your inebriated state?”

You grimace. “I’m not inebriated. Anymore.”

He hooks an eyebrow as he lowers himself into the seat beside you.

“Maybe your tedious lecture sobered me up,” you grumble.

Jake chuckles. “Sorry, I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

You shrug, leaning away from him slightly because his arm brushes against yours when he rests his back into the seat. His shoulders are so wide that it’s impossible to sit beside him without making contact. You lean forward to start filling out your form.

Several moments later, Jake taps on the clipboard in your hands. “Didn’t you take ibuprofen for the pain?”

You glance up at him slowly, pulling the clipboard protectively into your chest. “So?”

“They need to know what you’re on.”

“What I’m on?” you say with a laugh. “It’s not like it’s meth, Jake.”

“Write it just in case,” he says. “And how much alcohol have you had?”

You roll your eyes and shift in your seat so that your back is turned toward him. “Let me concentrate.”

But Jake is already half standing to look over your shoulder. “Migraines, right?” he mutters, pointing at the list of existing conditions.

“Jake, do you mind?” you say. “This is private information.”

But Jake ignores your request entirely and starts tapping on the allergy section that you’ve left blank. “You’re allergic to cats,” he says. “Give me that!” He yanks the clipboard out of your hands.

“Jake!” you exclaim. “They don’t care if I’m allergic to cats. This is a hospital. They want to know if I’m allergic to any medications.”

“Shh,” Jake shushes you. “Let me concentrate.”

Read Part 2

#jake seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #top gun #glen powell #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin fic #jake seresin drabble #hangman drabble #jake seresin blurb #hangman blurb #top gun blurb #top gun maverick #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff #hangman fic

[sandbarbirdie]

❛ please just hold me. ❜ with jake 🥺🥺

@sebsxphia thank you for submitting this !!! Ily

Jake is bad at admitting he isn't okay. He's bad at feeling vulnerable. The hard shelled egotistical pilot that he plays everyday has weaknesses that he doesn't like to admit to anyone. Especially to you. He doesn't want to worry you, even if you say you'll always be there for him. He doesn't want to scare you off with the nature of those weaknesses. Which led him to where he is now.

Sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom. Hidden with his back against the bed. Knees pulled to his chest as he tries to steady his breath. His knuckles are white as he holds tight fists against his shorts. He can't even remember what sent him into a spiral. what caused him to try and find 5 things he can see, 4 he can touch, 3 he can hear, 2 he can smell, and 1. that he can taste. He jumbles his numbers and can't let go of his shorts to feel the carpet.

He didn't hear you enter the room over the sound of blood pumping in his ears. He doesn't jolt when you kneel next to him. He only jumps when you gently try to pry his fingers from his formed fist. He looks at you with wide eyes, his eyes are not the bright green you adore but cloudy and dark, erratic in their movement. He can't make out what you are saying.

"Jake, Jake, come on baby. Breathe, you gotta breathe"

After what seems like hours, he finally can list things he can touch, hear, smell and taste, while picking at the carpet strands beneath him. He still wont look you in the eye. While this is not the first time you've seen him like this, he still wishes you never had to. You don't speak. You don't ask. He appreciates it, he thinks his voice would fail him if he had to answer you. Guilt corses through his body as he hears Bradley and Natasha laugh outside. The party outside forgotten about until this moment. He expects you to get up once he stops shaking but you don't. You stay next to him, Your back pressed against the same mattress.

He breaks the silence. A hoarse, broken voice speaks, very unlike the smooth talking southern accent.

"Please - Just hold me"

And you oblige. Your arms wrap around him as he all but collapses into you. His head resting against your chest, he curls further into you. His knees underneath yours. He clings to you like an anchor. Your hands find grounding points on his back and hip. His breath slowly steadies as he listens to yours, following your rise and fall.

#thank you for this wonderful prompt my love! #I got very carried away with this! #lol #my writing #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin angst #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin top gun #jake seresin drabble #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman imagine #hangman drabble #hangman blurb #hangman angst #hangman fluff

[cherryobx]

𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 || 𝐉. 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧

warnings: mentions of throwing up, sickness

When you had suddenly fallen ill, Hangman was the one that volunteered to take care of you. Which you were absolutely fine with because...duh.

You had caught an extreme case of a stomach bug and when you weren't throwing up and crying beside the toilet, you were absolutely blacked out or, while awake, delusional.

When your health was slowly starting to return, you started to try to remember all the things that had happened the week you were sick but you had a hard time recalling the moments you were actually awake.

And that made you a bit worried. What if you had told him about your feelings? Or even worse, what if you had tried to kiss him?

"I have never been this sick before I'm sorry," you started, sitting beside him on your couch, pulling the blanket around you tighter.

"Why are you apologising to me?"

You shrugged, your eyes glued to the TV but totally aware of his eyes on you.

A moment passed before the curiosity took over. You had to know. "Did I, haha this is so weird, but did I confess my love for you?"

Jake didn't even blink when he said "Yeah, four times."

You swore your heart stopped beating for a second. "F- four times? Yeah? Haha oh."

"Don't worry, I got to confess my love for you too. But since you seem to be remembering absolutely nothing I might have to redo it."

It was hard to contain the smile on your face. "Yes. please."

prompt from this list!

join my taglist!

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin drabble #hangman drabble

[stargazing15]

Dad's shirt

Jake x wife reader & daughter

Summary: it was Jake's third father's day and your daughter really loves the gift.

A/N: For those who voted for dad Jake, here you go! I didn't give the reader and Jake's daughter a name, I couldn't decide on a good one

Enjoy!

***

"Daddy is going to be home soon, you know what to say to daddy, sweetheart?" You asked you daughter.

"Yes mommy, how long? Not wait!" She still tried to use as less words as possible, a little stubbornness or laziness -you still hadn't figured out which one it was- but most certainly inherent from her father.

"It is I cannot wait, sweetie. I don't know, depends on daddy's boss and if daddy's plane has been nice today. Less than an hour. Okay?" Jake had texted you he was on way right before he left.

"Befo sleep?"

"Before. Of course, he will be here before sleeptime." The moment you said your last words, keys opened the front door.

"DADDY!" And off she was to the hallway.

"Hello little munchkin. You have been good to mommy?"

"The best!" You heard her say proudly.

"Come, come, come." Jake got pulled inside by your much smaller daughter, but with a big and excited smile on her face. Not matter how bad Jake's day might have been, she made sure it was always ending good. Younger Jake never thought he wanted this, but coming home to his loved ones was all he needed to be happy, the medals or mission successes weren't the peak of his happiness anymore.

"Hi baby." Jake gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"Hi sweetest daddy of our wonderful princess."

"Daddy, no looking, I have surprise. And mommy too! Come mommy. No cheating daddy!" Jake had closed his eyes and placed his hand in front of them.

"Look no cheating little munchkin, my eyes are closed. But I can't wait to see your surprise." He encouraged him/her.

"Come mommy." The two of you grabbed the neatly wrapped gift and made your way back to Jake to deliver the gift.

"Okay babe, keep your eyes closed and place your hands in front of you. And you here, stop jumping around for a second, you are going to trip over your own feet."

"No babe, DADDY." You and Jake giggled at her comment while you were laying the gift in his hands.

"Yes yes sweetie, daddy open up your eyes." Jake opened up his eyes and tried his best for the three year old to look as surprised as possible.

"HAPPY DADDY DAY!" She screamed as loud as she possibly could, poor neighbors, and started to jump up and down again. "Open, open!"

"I think you are the one who is most excited, will you help daddy?"

"Yes." Not even a second after Jake's answer she dragged his arm down to her level so she could help. Jake carefully removed the ribbon so your little girl could start destroying the wrapping paper.

Once the paper was removed the excited little one became even more excited, yes that was possible.

"DADDY DADDY LOOK!" Jake got a drawing smacked in his face by a very proud toddler. This made Jake burst out in laughing. The little ball of joy always managed to do something that put a smile on your faces.

"Wow little munchkin, did you make this?"

"YES, by myself!"

"It is really beautiful, I guess this here is mommy and there are you and this is me with my plane?"

"Yes!"

Jake now took the gift in his hand and unfolded it. It was a white t-shirt with the black text 'I'm the coolest dad' on it. In the O's were replaced by emoji's with aviators on. "I'll wear this proudly, who made the choice?"

"Me!" Your daughter said while raising her hand up.

"She has good taste. Clearly from me."

"Dork." You whispered with a smirk.

And then instead of trying it on himself, Jake took the shirt and put it over your daughter's head and lowered it down her little body, until it hit the ground. "It fits you perfectly little munchkin." Loving the the compliment, she kissed her daddy on the cheek and gave him a big hug.

"Mommy, LOOK!"

"Wow sweetie, is that a dress?"

"Noooo, daddy's shirt!" She mocked you, like you just asked her the dumbest question ever. Being miss smarty-pants, was definitely one of the other things she inherited from Jake.

"Come on you two, photoshoot. Let's go outside, the sun is shining. Mom and dad will be there in a second. Can you search for a nice spot?" She immediately ran off to search the sport in the garden.

"Well, beautiful mommy, thank you for the wonderful gift, although I think she might wear it more often than me." Jake said to you while wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I missed you today, I always miss you."

"Missed you too." Jake pulled you in for a kiss and deepened the kiss immediately. God you missed this one-on-one time.

"EEEWWWW, gross!" Your princess stood in the door with her small hands on her hips, being a little toddler-boss. "Photo!"

"Okay, okay, we're coming."

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @cycbaby @bradleybeachbabe @mavrellover91 @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @xoxabs88xox @angelbabyange @jstarr86 @dempy

#jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin imagine #dad jake seresin #jake seresin drabble #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman drabble #dad hangman #hangman imagine #hangman x you #hangman fluff #top gun: maverick #top gun imagine

[sebsxphia]

the agreement.

jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader.

￫ description: jake, javy, natasha and mickey all have an agreement in mind. one to fulfill yours and jake’s desire to have sex in front of someone.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ c/w: p in v, sex, kissing, biting, oral sex (f!receiving), voyuerism, exhibitionism, you being watched, swearing, dumbification, spanking, size kink, orgasm denial, edging, daddy kink, praise and overstimulation if you squint.

￫ a/n: this is absolute porn. without. a. plot. i’m a firm believer jake likes to have sex with people watching, so this was born. enjoy! <3 this is part of my 3.5K celly here! my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

“So…” Jake drawled out, tracing his fingertips over the felt resting on the pool table. “We’re all in agreement?”

Natasha, Javy and Mickey nodded in unison. Not a word was spoken between anyone as of yet and the tension hung thick in the air. Jake’s fingers finished at your thighs and his broad palm spread over your flesh, squeezing you gently.

“We never speak about this outside of the room. You don’t touch my wife, but you can instruct me to do anything to them, within their boundaries.”

They nodded again in agreement and a silent hum of murmured, ‘yes’s’ broke through the deafening silence.

“Good.”

Jake turned around to face you. He stood in between your spread thighs that were dangling off the pool table and he gripped at your waist gently. He squeezed your hips to remind you that he was there with you right now, in this moment and this moment only.

“You sure you want to do this, sweets?” Jake’s thumbs ran soothing circles over your hipbones and he tugged lightly at your frame to draw you closer to his torso.

“Positive.” Your breath hitched in your throat as you caught eyes with Javy over his shoulder, but Jake was quick to cut you off by pressing a feather light kiss to your lips.

You pressed further into him and let him swallow your breath, taking your bottom lip in between his teeth and catching your silent moans. His tongue soothed over your blistered lip and dipped further into your mouth. His large hands started to roam higher up your frame and clutch onto your ribs. There was only a sheer, lacy piece of lingerie separating you and Jake’s fire touch.

“Lay them down.” You heard Javy, the first to speak up, instruct Jake just as he had said.

Natasha hummed in agreement, “spread them out. We want to see them too.”

Jake broke the lust fueled kiss with you and a trail of drool connected between your lips. He did as Javy instructed. Jake acted as if you were made out of fragile porcelain as he lay you down onto the velvet green of the pool table. His guiding hands were sure to never leave your body as they slid over your waist and down your thighs, parting them under Natasha’s order. It was a firm reminder that Jake would be there with you throughout the whole thing.

For the first time, you heard Mickey speak with a croak in his voice, clearly going dry at the sight of his co worker and friend about to fuck his wife on their pool table. “Eat them out.”

The three onlookers sat on the worn out couch in yours and Jake’s shared home. It was situated in a games room and the decor wasn’t quite up to scratch since only using it on occasions. You caught a glimpse at Javy already palming at his crotch, with Natasha by his side running her fingertips over her shirt at her perky nipples.

“Eyes here, focus on me, baby.” Jake drew you back to his piercing steel blue gaze, now squatted down in between your thighs. You nodded and swallowed thickly, trying to gather some salvia in your ever drying throat. Like Jake always started, he pressed his lips to the inside of your thighs and placed feather light kisses. He trailed his lips up and over the expanse of your flesh before kneading his teeth into you. It caused your legs to twitch and the first whine escaped you.

“Needy, aren’t they?” Javy grunted.

“Mm, they always are. So needy and whiny for me.” Jake murmured against your skin. Your hips bucked as Jake grew closer to your clothed cunt and your hands shot out to grab fistfuls of his hair, trying to move him towards where you needed him most. Jake let out a muffled chuckle, followed by a click of his tongue as he drew his index finger past the band of your lingerie to see how much you had already leaked out of your cunt.

“I can fuckin’ smell you from here, sweets. I bet they can too.” Jake’s words made embarrassment creep up your cheeks and flush your chest. You were completely exposed to the three onlookers in your own home and it made your arousal pool in between your lips. “And look at that, fucking soaked already, hm?” Jake traced the pad of his finger through your slit to collect your ever growing arousal. In the lightest of touches, he prodded at your clit and you whined again. “You enjoy this, don’t you? Enjoy being watched whilst I touch my wife.”

“Y-yes,”

You heard Jake make a, ‘tut’ sound and his teeth sunk back down onto the flesh of your thighs as a warning for the rookie error you had just made. “Yes, what?” You groaned as the pad of Jake’s finger pressed teasing touches to your clit. It was everything you needed but no where near enough at the same time and your thighs started to tremble. You keened into Jake’s touch to try and chase the feeling you so desperately begged for. “Don’t get shy on us now, sweetheart.”

A heartfelt groan escaped your lips and you pushed your pride aside. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Before you could register the movement, Jake’s warm mouth captured your clit and sucked harshly, earning a satisfied moan being pushed out from your lungs. He worked his tongue around the highly sensitive bundle of nerves and your mind went completely blank. You all but forgot there were three people watching as Jake broke down his wife piece by piece. He repeated figures of eight around your clit repeatedly, just as he would any other time to draw you higher to your peak.

Your hands curled into fists in his hair and you tugged at his roots harshly when his picture perfect teeth nibbled at your flesh. It earned a wanton groan from Jake, which was muffled by his face buried in between the place he loved most in this world. The sensation of your orgasm was ever approaching and it hit you quicker than you could register. Your head was lolled to one side on the pool table and you were practically panting as Jake gave no remorse to your clit that was becoming swollen with each swipe of his tongue.

“Can I please come, Daddy?” You meekly begged. Subconsciously, you held your breath as you awaited the verdict. You had no inclination as to if Jake was going to play nice, or if he was going to draw out this torture before you cracked completely.

Jake pulled his warm mouth away from your clit and the flush of cool air hit you, making it twitch at the sudden loss of contact. His lips were plush and there was a string of his saliva, mixed with your own arousal connecting to you both.

“I don’t know,” Jake ushered and you protested with a needy whine, twisting your hips to try and gage some friction. He turned his head behind him to the onlookers, “do you think they should come?”

Mickey’s eyes were hooded, completely thrown under the waves of pleasure as he watched the scene unfold before him, but Javy and Natasha exchanged a lazy grin between them both.

“No.” They called out in a condescending tone of unison.

But this time, Mickey spoke up with his voice gruff and granting Jake the next instruction. “Fuck them for us, all fours. I wan’ see them get ruined.”

The others were pleasantly surprised at Mickey’s sudden take of control, as if to bare his teeth and show them how desperately he wanted to see you drooling on the pool table.

Jake rose up from his knelt position on the floor and towered over you. He himself was still in a crisp cotton t-shirt and jeans. He brought his hands to his sides to shed himself of his clothing and his cock twitched in his underwear. The thought of being completely exposed himself was starting to cloud the edges of his mind. The scenario that was currently being played out was as big a fantasy for Jake as it was for you. He wanted to be watched and admired as he fucked his wife.

Jake brought his hands to your waist as he did before and gave your sides a squeeze. His eyes softened as you shared a lovesick look that the others weren’t privy to. It was something that you both kept secret between you and to reassure you that it was still only you and Jake in the room together, mixed as one.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Jake spoke, barely above a whisper.

“Yes, please don’t stop, baby.” You begged with reassurance.

Jake nodded and within seconds, his face contorted back to the hardened gaze he wore before that had your cunt clench around nothing. It was a look of sheer, animalistic, hunger.

Jake’s splayed out hands still rested on your body to maneuver you into the position Mickey had requested. Your knees were digging into the base of the pool table and you thanked your lucky stars it was soft enough. Your back was arched with your ass in the air and your face planted on the table, your arms splayed out to steady yourself.

“Turn them to us.” Natasha demanded.

One of Jake’s hands rested at the base of your neck and guided you to turn and face them. Your eyes met theirs and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks immediately. All of them had a piercing gaze focused only on you. Both Javy and Mickey had since freed their cocks from their underwear and they were lazily stroking at them. Although Natasha wasn’t on display, her hand was tucked under her jeans and presumably playing with herself.

Your rosy flush spread over your supple cheeks and along your neck at the notion of them seeing you completely bare and exposed like this. The sheer lingerie body suit that was clung tightly to your frame did very little to hide any of your modesty. It was practically see through and you were sure Natasha was focused in on your stiff nipples poking through the fabric. Your heart was thudding rhythmically against your ribcage and you were brought back to the overwhelming prospect of what was about to occur when you felt your clit twitch. You heard Jake’s belt buckle clang against itself and the shuffle of his jeans fall to the floor.

“You’re big,” your eyes flicked to Javy who was focused on Jake, now shed of his underwear. “Can they take you?”

You couldn’t help the whimper that got caught in your throat and Natasha stifled a snort of laughter at the prospect of you struggling to take your own husband. Jake mirrored Natasha’s laughter and landed a firm hand on your ass, his words cutting through everyone and putting you in your place.

“They have to.”

Jake had been your devoted and loving partner for years, but his very matter of fact statement made you squirm in your position, your ass swaying ever so slightly. You’d had sex more times than you could count, but you’d never overcome the feeling of him stretching you out each time. It had your cunt clenching around nothing and keening for some sort of relief.

Jake’s familiar grasp of his hands met your hips as he clambered atop of the pool table. One of his hands left your side to grasp at the base of his cock, pumping it a handful of times. You felt his swollen tip heavily slap at your clit and it sent jolts of short lived pleasure coursing through you. You cried out, appearing more desperate for him than you wanted.

“Plea’, please, Daddy.” You pushed your ass back to try and meet him, but Jake kept one hand firmly planted on your hip to keep you at the distance he deemed necessary to provide you this endless torture.

“Words, sweets. Don’t let our rules go out the window in front of our guests.”

You bit down so hard on your bottom lip that it threatened to draw blood. You looked up at your guests all wearing smiles that could only be described as, fucking smug, and you swallowed what was left of your pride.

“Please fuck me, Daddy.”

Jake chuckled from behind you and issued another slap to your clit with his cock. “See, that wasn’t so hard? Was it?”

In one fluid motion, Jake pressed the head of his cock through your lips and pushed all the way to the hilt. He himself couldn’t hold back the low hiss that escaped him, cursing your name as the warm walls of your cunt swallowed him greedily. You let out a shriek as his tip nudged deep within you, only to pull back torturously slow, your lips stretching around the middle of his cock where he was largest.

“Fuckin’ hell. Look at you, my pretty little wife all stretched around my cock.” There were shared moans between the other three as they watched Jake fill you completely and your eyes flutter and twitch in pleasure. Jake was quick to render your mistake and he thrusted himself back into you harshly. Through gritted teeth he ordered you, “eyes open. It’s a free show, best to do your best and show your manners.”

Jake didn’t let up with his thrusts and started a firm, but punishing pace as your cunt grew accustomed to taking his size. The angle of your arched back gave his cock a delicious way to nudge along the sweet and spongy spot seated deep inside of you, drawing back and forth over it. It made your body convulse and all that could be heard in the games room was shared moans between you and your husband, the rest of the onlookers grunting quietly as they stared intently.

Jake’s fingers were pressed so deep on your flesh, you were sure it would leave bruises. The cheeks of your ass slapping against Jake’s torso stung from the earlier welts of his hand. The sound of skin slapping against each other was ringing throughout the room. With each push of Jake’s hips, it brought you closer to the teetering edge he had you on before they so cruelly denied you your release. Your body felt everything all at once, but it was still missing the jolting sensation of your swollen clit being stroked tenderly. You needed more.

Your head felt as if it was being stuffed full with cotton as Jake stuffed you and without even registering it, you begged for Jake’s touch. He gave in when the onlookers granted him permission.

As the pads of his fingertips connected with your clit, you wailed. “Fuck! S-shit, oh my god. Feels s’ good, Daddy. Ple’, please don’t stop.”

They were drawing calculated figures of eight around the sensitive bundle of nerves. They were so precise and with the drawn out sensation of Jake’s tip hitting your sweet spot, it made you see stars. An explosion of swirling circles within your vision. Your face ached from holding your eyes back from going to the back of your skull. A string of incoherent babbles left your lips as Jake kept up the relenting pace. As you mumbled some more sweet praises with your cheek pressed against the plush felt, it made drool drip from the corner of your mouth and pool beneath you.

Jake’s breathing was ragged as he craned his head to the side to watch you come undone and his cock twitched deep in your cunt as you squeezed him tight like a viper. He caught a glimpse of Mickey and Javy with their own cocks now throbbing in their hands and pooling precum. Natasha had hoisted one of her feet up on the sofa with her thighs spread to allow for her fingers to work deeper inside of herself.

Jake would outwardly admit this for the rest of his life, this did something for his ever growing ego. His friends watching him fuck his own wife so good, that it made your salvia dribble onto the plush pool table.

“I- can-” You could barely string a sentence together. “I, come, ple’, Daddy?”

“Fucked you so dumb you can’t use words? Try harder.” Jake barked from behind you, applying a deeper pressure with his fingers.

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and tried to compose your mind to something of stability. “Please can I come, Daddy?”

“Don’t know, can they?” Jake was calling out for the others permission and once more, you wailed in protest.

“Fuck!” You weren’t sure how much longer your body could physically hold out on this torture and you had nothing else to give but desperate begs.

“Behave.” Jake bit back with venom lacing his tone. Another curt slap was issued to your ass in warning and it made your body jolt forward.

“M, close,” Mickey spoke up with Javy and Natasha agreeing. “Let them come.”

A beat and a swipe of Jake’s fingers over your clit. “Come.”

Jake’s permission was the last thing you heard. Your mind went blank. A hot, blinding pleasure tore through your body and touched each of your nerve endings simultaneously. Your toes curled at the edge of the pool table and your ass pressed itself firmly against Jake’s torso, lapping up the sensation. He continually massaged at your swollen cunt and his cock ran its head over the spot buried deep inside of you in sync. You weren’t even aware of the string of, ‘thank you’s’ that left your lips, or the others finishing themselves off as your eyes had now fully retreated to the back of your head.

You could sense Jake’s toned torso shuddering with you and not long after, you felt his warm spend spread through you and coat your spasming walls. You heard him groan deep and guttural from within his chest, followed by your name.

“Good girl, fuck. S’ good for me, feel s’ good.” He issued a further few more lazy pumps of his hips, but your own hips squirmed against him due to his fingers not leaving your clit.

“S’ sensitive, please, Jakey.” You mewled out. At the sweet whine of his name, Jake took that as your tell tale sign that you couldn’t take any more and he pulled his softening cock out of you completely. You still moaned softly in response at the sudden feeling of emptiness and feeling his cum sliding and eventually dripping down your lips.

Your thighs were trembling by now and the rest of your body was shuddering. Jake was careful to slide his broad forearm around your front and pick you up to rest against his chest. He maneuvered you both so he could cradle you on his lap as he sat on the edge of the pool table. Your face was buried in-between the crook of his neck and shoulder, inhaling his familiar scent to ground yourself further. Jake watched as the others cleaned up their own messes, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Enjoyed that?”

They all breathlessly agreed in unison.

“Will you guys be alright if I take my wonderful wife to get cleaned up? You know the way out, right?” Jake nodded towards the door of the games room in your shared home.

Javy tucked himself back into his jeans and huffed out a laugh, standing up with the others. “Yeah, I think Natasha’s taking us home.” He called out your name and you peered up from Jake’s shoulder with a dopey smile on your face. “That was, fucking hot. Thank you for your wonderful hosting.” There was an air of sarcasm to Javy’s praise, but you knew it was sincere.

The others agreed, bidding their goodbyes and made their way to the door. The last thing you heard was Natasha’s voice calling out to you both.

“See you Monday, Hagman!”

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown

tagging those who were interested in the wip: @emorychase @chicomonks @teacupsandtopgun @lt-bradshaw

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin smut #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin drabble #hangman x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fic #hangman fanfiction #hangman smut #hangman imagine #hangman drabble #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman fic #jake hangman smut #jake hangman imagine #glen powell #top gun maverick #top gun maverick x you #top gun maverick x reader

[seasonsbloom]

R O M E O - “you could punch me in the face and i would still want you ngl.” with jake pretty pls

♡ pairing ; hangman x reader

♡ wc ; 720

♡ warnings ; none? drunk hangman I guess.

♡ note ; I'm sorry this got super silly???

After years and years of bartending experience, after mixing countless cocktails and pouring a myriad of shots, after throwing gaggles of obnoxious men out on their asses and cutting up what could probably amount to a truckload of limes, you’ve gotten incredibly good at spotting drunk people.

But even without all of that, even if you’d never set foot into a bar before in your life, you think this wouldn’t be difficult to discern: Jake Seresin is absolutely and completely hammered.

“I think I’m in love with you,” he says, his big, green eyes blinking at you through the bleary haze of alcohol. He’s sitting with both elbows braced on the bartop, his Old Fashioned forgotten and melting into a sad excuse of water and whiskey.

“And I think you’ve had enough,” you mutter, reaching for the glass. You try to ignore the effects of the word, the blood rushing into your cheeks, the hope rushing into your chest. A fluttering, flailing, frantic fledgling of a thing.

He watches as you toss the last dregs of his drink into the sink, the ice cubes going with a loud clatter. “I don’t even like Old Fashioneds,” he reveals suddenly, eyes fixed on your hands like he’s trying to center his vision on something.

You frown. “You’re the one who keeps ordering them, Hangman.”

“Only cause you said you like men who order Old Fashioneds,” he mumbles, then pauses. “Is that a word? Old Fashioneds… What’s the plural of that? Old Fashions?”

You ignore his rambling. “Dude. I have no idea what you’re on about.”

He waves his hand through the air like he’s auditioning for a spot on the Disney Channel, then says, “You told Phoenix.”

Very, very vaguely you recall a conversation, over a year ago, about ideal partners, about dream futures. You’d made up some half-formed, half-true lie about a man with green eyes drinking an Old Fashioned you’d mixed for him.

Now you stare at Jake Seresin under the lights of this bar, here on this Tuesday night, with his sleeve in a puddle of indefinable liquid, with his hair mussed, with his heart on the tip of his tongue, and your head spins.

“How do you remember that?” you ask. You feel winded, breathless, as if you just ran a marathon.

He shrugs. “I remember everything about you.”

It knocks the words out of you. You just stand there, blink at him, hands slack and mind sluggish. 

“I’m really mean to you, Hangman,” you remind him, voice gentle in the face of something that feels too big. It’s Tuesday, man. “We like… hate each other.”

It’s not even a lie. You really are mean to Hangman, Hangman who is obnoxious and cocky and way too confident, who flirts with you at every turn, who takes home too many girls and always asks for the most expensive Whiskey in his drink. Who drives you to the brink of insanity and then pulls you back with a well-placed grin, a soft word, a tip just a little too high to be commonplace.

“I like it when you’re mean to me,” Jake admits, his face sliding ever so slowly off his palm. “It’s my favorite part of the day.”

You don’t know what to say. You feel like he’s just punched a hole right through you.

“Sometimes I fantasize about punching you in the face,” you blur, and then cringe at yourself.

Again, he just shrugs. “You could punch me in the face and I would still want you ngl.”

“This is a verbal conversation, Hangman,” you say. “You can just say the words out loud, you know?”

But you’re already halfway there with him, out in the sea of love.

“Okay,” he says, nods, and then he grins. “I’m so drunk, I’m totally seeing double. There’s two of you. You wanna have a threesome?”

Jesus, you think. “I think you should maybe have some water first.”

“Tomorrow when I’m sober,” he begins, his eyes finally going from your hands to your face, “can I ask you out?”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

“Will you say yes?”

“Probably.”

He grins. “I lied earlier. I don’t think I’m in love with you. I totally know it.”

It doesn’t take a professional to figure out that Hangman is absolutely and completely hammered. That’s how you know he’s telling the truth.

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