#hangman tours

[apxdoi]

what would jake's favorite taylor swift album? and why is it reputation?

#top gun #jake hangman seresin #hangman #taylor swift #his favorite song is definitely king of my heart #hangster #god he would love the eras tour

[musicyug]

#handbagcharms #handmade #hangman x reader #handcrafted #take my hand tour #han solo #changbin #jeongin

[purelyfiction]

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NFL QB Jake 'Hangman' Seresin AU x Popstar F!Reader

Summary: NFL Quarterback Jacob Seresin is in hot water from a streak of bad decisions, just as you go through the worst public breakup of your life. With people slandering both of your reputations, your publicists hatch a plan to bring both of you back into favor and keep the heat off until spring - that is if you can keep up the facade.

Word Count: 5,334 words

Author Note: I know I have two other outstanding Top Gun fics and I swear I'm trying to get those going but I am writing what sparks joy and well.... this certainly does. || Also!! Reader's stage name is 'Celeste' with 'Este' as the nickname. So no one gets confuseddddd

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You'd never anticipated to start the biggest year of your life absolutely gutted, yet here you are. Your boyfriend – well, ex-boyfriend, severed what you had thought to be a loving, trusting and safe relationship, rather unexpectedly on New Year's Eve. Then he'd gone to the press to relay that you were a horrible person, a terrible girlfriend, too involved in your work to even bother paying attention to anyone else. The timing couldn't be worse, since you were about to start your first ever stadium tour in the spring. 

The result had been you hiding away in your little oasis that was your condo in California’s southern escape of San Diego. You’d stayed off the internet, binging TV shows that you’d been too busy to pay attention to and immersing yourself in anything you could, to erase the four year relationship you’d been splintered from. The garbage people probably wondered why there were a near dozen empty quarter pints of ice cream in your recycling bin, but that wasn’t for them to care about. At least you’d recycled them. 

Now, three weeks into the new year, with your favorite Chinese on the way, you sit on your couch going over tour visuals. Your lighting engineer is rambling on the line as you hear the gate buzzer go off. You’re quick to collect your dinner as one of the others on the line gasp and quickly mute their mic. “What?” You quip, walking to your expansive kitchen and dropping the large paper bag down. You’re half paying attention when the employee brushes you off, as your hand pulls container after container of food from the magical Mary Poppins-style bag. Getting to the bottom, you grasp for a pair of chopsticks, only to find several sets of them, along with a dozen fortune cookies. You take a moment to look over your four entrees and styrofoam container of sushi. The audacity of them to think you would be sharing any of this. 

Finally, you address the matter of your dramatic tech director. “What’s the deal over there Hollywood?” You chide, before your phone is ringing, leaving you to hang up the video call to answer the phone. It’s your publicist and you know better than to let her calls go unanswered.

“Check your inbox.” Her voice is frigid instead of it’s usually cheery demeanor.   

“Hello to you too?” Begrudgingly, you do as she commands, finding the email she sent to you. 

Jonah Carter agreed to sit down for an interview with UsWeekly, post-breakup to clear the air and to make sure no one else would fall for his ex-girlfriend's (Celeste) playful, girl-next-door-ish facade.

"At first, it felt like a dream come true," Carter, an up-and-coming actor within his own right, said almost sheepishly. "I thought she was talented and kind, but I should've known it was too good to be true."

But there's more to this pop-star than Jonah says meets the eye. In addition to the vanity and self-importance that seems to plague this generation's starlets, Este was a vindictive slob who routinely talked behind the back of even her closest friends. "It makes me wonder what she's saying about me, now, after everything I've heard her say about those who think are closest to her." The concern for others is written very clearly on the actor’s face as he speaks. When I question the songstress’ messages about authenticity, the man adjusts in his seat as he holds back a laugh. 

"She'd like you to believe she writes all her own music, but I'm not sure she could write a full sentence without the help of her team," Jonah chuckled nervously into his coffee. "Sorry, that was rude. I don't want to stoop to her level." Cowed brown eyes made me wonder what else he had endured behind closed doors. It struck a chord within me. 

“Why did you stay as long as you had if this was what you were facing?” I ask him. The expression of his kind features morphs into despair. 

“When we first met, Celeste was someone I admired. Her compassion, her drive and her dedication to the things she valued spoke so deeply to what I did, what I still do-” he fumbles as he attempts to source the proper words, “They just… weren’t her beliefs. They were her team’s.” Jonah lets out a pained sound, “I think when we got toward the end of it, I realized that she has this way of manipulating what she says, how she acts, to make herself look good. She puts on a show, on and off the stage and you pay for it one way or another. So, I knew what she was capable of. I knew she could be that person if she really wanted to and I wanted so badly to help her see that. I eventually learned that people see what they want to see.”

God, what a load of hot garbage this was. It was a particularly rare batch, clearly it had been baking in a dumpster in the scorching sun with the lid closed. All damp, with a horrendous mix of something rotting and old crusty seaweed. 

The tour was supposed to be announced on the first of the month and here your ex was selling stories (horribly narrated and mangled stories) to the press. You might as well have been kicking puppies at this point. 

“Isn’t he just swell? Nothing but peak wisdom from good ol’ Jonah.” Your eyes could’ve strained themselves with how far back they rolled. Probably the only time he’d ever made them do that too.

“I’ve already called a team together to brainstorm. I don't want you to respond. Stay offline, away from all of it and don't entertain any of the discourse. Not until I have something to work with.” 

“None of it is true we both know that-” You begin to laugh but she cuts you off.

“As much as I want to be on your side here, we are working to put out a fire. Your silence the last three weeks has put you at a massive disadvantage and frankly? The public eye doesn’t see you in the greatest space right now.” You know she’s right. She always is, and right now ‘Celeste’ was synonymous with ‘cynical, fake and fraudulent’. You wouldn’t be shocked if the uproar demanded you be canceled based off of this testimony. 

It wasn’t all but two days later that you were called in by your PR team. Into the office in New York for the first time since before Thanksgiving. It had been a busy end of the year and now that the new one was coming in so ferociously you weren’t looking toward any of the things you once had been. This was the first time back into the light and so you had made sure that the inevitable cameras had something to look at. You’d dressed yourself in your favorites, in an effort to boost your confidence as best as you could. Putting on a show, just like you had been when things had been on the rocks with Jonah. 

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Getting to the office, you’re nearly trampled with the amount of people that swarm you. It’s not normally this bad - hell it’s never this bad. It isn’t until you catch sight of a football jersey and an ESPN logo that your brow furrows. Odd. 

Stepping into the building, you’re pushing your sunglasses up onto your head, looking down at your ringing phone and trying to slide your coat off simultaneously. Instead, you crash right into what you think is a wall, but is instead a broad man, looking rather lost. 

“Easy there, Twinkle Toes.” You guffaw and look up at the blonde man before returning your eyes toward your feet. Of course, the bedazzled statement boots on your feet call attention to themselves before the rest of the outfit can balance itself out. 

“Alright, Prince Charming, you first.” You snicker before stepping out of his way and start to the elevator. Unfortunately for you, he’s apparently heading your way as well, needing access to the lift to the next floor. 

“Prince Charming, huh? I mean I’ve been called worse.” His shoulders roll backwards as the elevator dings to one of the other floors. You keep your head trained forward, suddenly remembering the rule you’d been given. Stay quiet, don’t engage. And here you were giving sass to a stranger and showing up in bedazzled booties. You were really digging this grave deeper than necessary. So, instead of giving him another sassy response, you keep your eyes locked to the neon numbers as the elevator passes each floor. “Oh so, now I’m getting a cold shoulder? Darn, I was really ready to ask you all about the boots on your feet, too.” You can’t help but let your eyes move back over to the broad male, just out of the corner of your eye. His face is completely locked on you, shamelessly at that. “They expensive? They got that waxy red paint on the bottoms of ‘em?” Silently, you turn one of your feet up to give him a glimpse at the blue bottom of the shoe. “Huh, blue. That’s fun. That more expensive than the LouButton or whatever they are?” Finally the elevator reaches your floor, hopefully shutting this chatterbox up for the time being. Yet the questions continue like an immature toddler as you rise up the floors - going to the same floor nonetheless. “Hey, you’re that Celeste chick aren’t ya?” 

“Yes.” You finally answer one of his questions, his face lighting up.

“Oh look at that, she cracks.” Another eye roll times well with the sound of the elevator reaching the desired floor. Instead of responding, you quickly find your way through the glass hallways and to the desired room. You are so glad to be in the presence of the familiar group, the stranger in the elevator having rattled your composure somewhat. Your manager comes in with a cup of coffee and a smile, which immediately puts one on yours. 

“You didn’t have to do that!” You cheer, reaching out for it as she sits beside you. 

“When you see what Rachel has come up with, you’re going to need it.” Oh. Reassuring. 

You see her point when Prince Charming steps into the board room, followed by a host of men in dress clothes and suits, all matching the blue soles of your boots. Charming sits directly across from you, a hand wiggling his fingers as he waves at you. Oh good. 

“Thank you everyone for coming. I know this is a very polarizing group, so before we get ahead of ourselves, I want to introduce Celeste, or Este as we all have come to call her over the years.” Awkwardly, you wave at the foreign men. They grunt and nod. You were already having doubts and not a word had been spoken on their end. “I also want to introduce Beau Simpson, public relations coordinator for the San Diego Sea Lions, Coach Natasha Trace, and Sea Lions owner, Tom Kazansky.”

Sea Lions? As in the NFL team that had been built not even three years ago but had made it to all three playoffs in their short time? The one that Jonah had ridiculed immensely when it joined the league because ‘California doesn’t need another group of inflated egos in the league’? 

“I’m really feeling the love here, Rach.” Charming speaks up and the raven haired woman on the other side of the table sighs. 

“This is Jacob Seresin, starting quarterback for the Sea Lions.” The coach speaks, the blonde man brushing off her introduction. 

“No need for full names, Trace. Clearly we only do the stage name around here.” That was a clear jab to you if you’d ever heard it. “Hangman’s what they call me.” His hand juts across the glass, toward you. Your hands stay tucked under your biceps. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” It’s passive, turning to your team leader. “Rachel. I’m not seeing a connection here.” 

“Jacob is in the same pot of hot water you’re in.” Your attention moves to the similarly broad man who stands up, towering over Rachel. “We feel as though we can spin this to both of your advantages. Jake needs to stop sleeping around–”

“Easy now, Simpson.” The eldest in the room stands up and he gives you a kind smile. It’s not a farce though. You’re not entirely sure what makes it so genuine, but you smile in return of seeing him stand, despite it taking a slight bit of effort to do so. “What he means is, Jake’s professional status has changed due to the words of someone else and we’re determined to alter that. Rachel identified this and made quite the proposal.” The young woman seems all too cheery to cut off the old man. 

“You’re both having relationship woes–” The raven haired woman on Jacob’s team speaks under her breath. 

“Wouldn’t call them relationships.”

“And by putting you two together, we feel as though we can put you into a positive light. Let’s face it, putting two very successful, and attractive people who are already in the spotlight allows people to follow the developing love story. Este attends games, plays the WAG card, has an opportunity to be seen in the public eye more frequently and dispels the ill-spoken words that were published about her this week. Jake gets the proof that he isn’t just a love-em-and-leave-em type.” Your eyes spell out the doubt you’re feeling, looking at your team who is just as skeptical. “That’s just the beginning! Celeste is going on tour this year. Stadiums all across the country have her booked and ready for the summer. We have a captive audience already following these games to see Este and Jake together, and we get brand recognition. The conversations that will come as she gets to witness her betrothed play in a stadium she would be performing in that very summer.”

Now you see where the benefit actually is. Clearing your name while simultaneously promoting your tour in the process. Seeing stadiums you’ve booked and would hopefully sell out. 

“So how are you proposing this works? We’ll need a start, an end - a story on how we met–”

“Well,” Beau settles in his seat, twisting in the desk chair as he draws in the attention of the group, “we have the major details hypothesized. Rachel and I will work with one another to get the rest of it together. For now, you two met at a New Years Eve party.” 

Oh joy. Now you get to remember that bitter break-up that led you here, every time you speak about him. 

The man looks like he walked out of a surfing magazine, as it were. Now, the scowl on his features paints him as a devil. Long hair, muscular arms on display as he leans into the table in front of him. 

“If we don’t do this?” Jake leans back in his chair, a hand coming to fiddle with the lingering 5 o’clock shadow that he has omitted in his morning routine. 

“We don’t do this and there will be a lack of support for the Sea Lions. You’ll have painted the entire team as jackasses who can’t focus to save their life, especially if you continue to party and hook up with whomever your dick has the hots for that night-” Beau has gone off the handle and Tom speaks up again. 

“The point is, public favor will stay low and it will not bode well for the team. With a lack of support, we have empty seats. Empty seats translates to less viewers, then to less money and you know the song and dance. Not to mention morale for the upcoming playoffs. We need to keep the team happy, Hangman. It’s time to do something to benefit everyone.” 

Jake’s expression deepens, as though he was a young child just scolded by his father for his poor behavior. Green eyes shift and face you, his hand jutting out toward you. 

“I’m in.” His hand hovers. Waiting for you to join him in this grand scheme. Glancing at your own team, they look rather haunted. At this point, it was this or to hope that a long string of possible good stories and fan interactions can redeem you. 

You want this to pass. And if this would make it go faster… you grab Jake’s hand firmly.

“What’s there to lose?”

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You went back onto social media. Posted some photos you’d taken with friends back at the beginning of the month, from the worst party of your life. The photos at least were cute and you loved the dress you’d gotten to wear. Luckily these photos were all taken prior to midnight. So there were no red eyes. No ruined mascara and glitter across your cheeks. No freezing car rides home and empty beds. 

Mindlessly, you scroll through the comments. 

Flameth: can still make the whole place shimmer ✨

RunTao: phony photos

Romanacent: so glad to see you’re not letting him get to you!

H_ngm_n: you’re still gonna let me borrow those boots right

It’s the last one you’d been keeping an eye out for. Boots? Looking back at the photo, you scroll through the carousel until you spot them. 

The same shiny sparkly rhinestone boots you’d worn to your meeting. 

Celeste: @h_ngm_n I’m a woman of my word, of course 🤗

Not even a week goes by before you’re ‘spontaneously’ at a bar in LA. Jake has been there for the last two hours, as he insisted you both show up alone and then end up leaving together. You eventually found him in the VIP section, drinking with his buddies. 

You made sure to keep your distance for a few minutes - after all, his friends had no idea this was going down. The only people who knew about this little arrangement were your respective PR teams. That was it. No one else from your teams, your friends and family, absolutely no one knew what your little plan was. Maybe you should just leave. It was a verbal contract, you didn’t sign anything, you were just trying to make this work for the two of you-

The bartender pulls you from your deliberations. There is now a drink that you certainly didn’t order sitting in front of you. Well there was no going back now. Jake had likely made a show of sending over the drink and now you had to go through with this. Glancing over your shoulder, you see the jock, legs spread, arms resting on the back of the booth chair. Green eyes lock in your direction and send a cocky wink as a garnish to your drink. 

You are about to win your first Oscar with this performance. Throwing on a grin, you pick up the drink and easily sashay your way over to him and his football buddies. Some flash titanium wedding bands, some platinum. Some aren’t wearing them at all, like your date, mister 83 who leans forward upon your approach. “Well, well, well, long time no see hot shot.”

“Speak for yourself, pop star.” Jake stands to greet you, his arms coming around you, carefully as to not spill either of your drinks. You catch a whiff of his cologne when he does so. It’s rich, familiar in the way it reminds you of summers camping. Bonfire smoke and smores. Yet clean, like when you came home to a clean house, citrus floor cleaner lingering in the halls. Pulling back, you almost move forward again to sit in it. Easy does it. 

“Oh come on, three weeks isn’t that long.” You chide. While most of his body has pulled away from the hug, his free hand still sits on your waist, warm against the AC of the exclusive bar. 

“Technically it was a year ago.” Jake smirks before taking a sip of his drink and you want to groan. So you do. But spin it into something more playful. 

“Observant, are we?” You nearly snarl as you take a sip of your drink, Jake’s colleagues standing up. The one who’d sat right next to him grins and extends a hand. He’s tall, lean but has a stunning smile as he steps your way.

“Not sure we’ve met. Javy Machado, running back, San Diego Sea Lions-” the blonde looks at his friend with an amused scoff. 

“I think she knows who the Sea Lions are, Jav.” The look on the captain’s face is one of skepticism and amusement. You were here to dispel rumors. So, as much as you’d like to smack Jake for being a dick to his friend, you shake his teammate’s hand instead 

“In passing. I don’t follow football closely, but I get by. Celeste.” The smile on your face is genuine as the next player stands. Kind eyes, a domestic bar of hair on his upper lip and the build of a pickup truck, he goes for a quick one armed hug. When he lets go, you have to wipe the temptation of any swooning you were compelled to do. Especially since a gold band glistens on his left hand. 

You’re here for Jake anyways. 

“Name’s Bradley Bradshaw. They call me Rooster.” Your eyebrow furrows as your head twists. Before you can ask, another man on the other side of the room laughs. 

“You should hear him on the field when he’s sacking someone.” This one, curls and meticulously groomed facial hair to boot, leans forward and shakes your hand kindly. “I’m Mickey. That back there is Bob.”  

True to his word, at the end of the bench is a long haired man, tucked into his phone and fiddling with a ring. He doesn’t seem to match the energy of the rest of the group. Curious. “Bob!” He glances up at the sound of his name, blue eyes flitting from face to face before spotting you. When he does he breaks out into a smile. 

“Celeste! Gosh, wow it’s so cool to meet you! My girls adore your music.” This catches Jake’s attention, a brow popping up. 

“Aren’t both of ‘em less than five?” He asks and Bob looks between the two of you. 

“Yeah? It’s never too early to introduce them to great music and influential women.” There’s no faking the smile on your face as you reach over and shake his hand. When you do, you look at Jake with a ‘would you look at that’ coded grin. 

“That’s amazing to hear! I’m glad they have fun with it! That’s why I do it.” You glance back at Jake as he comes behind you, hand shifting to the small of your back. 

“Pay’s in the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll meet him sometime later tonight.” The quarterback gives a nod to his group, before guiding the two of you to a high top table not too far from them. When you sit down he looks at you with a laugh. “Flirt much?” 

“Excuse me?” Jumping to the defense, you watch Jake roll his eyes and then look back at Bradley, before facing you. 

“You were practically eye-fucking him.” 

“Was not.” 

“He’s happily married, leave him be.” The blonde sips at his drink and you can’t help but laugh when you realize he’s giving you a hard time. 

“Right, right, guess I’ll bother you instead.” The tease is off your lips in two seconds. Maybe he was right, you were coming off strong. You huff and sink into yourself briefly. “I don’t know if you realized this, but I haven’t had ‘flirt’,” your fingers mark the quotation marks in the air, “with anyone in a while. Let alone fake it.” 

Jake leans back in his chair, downing the rest of his beverage a smirk making way when he sets the glass down. 

“Don’t worry, you won’t be faking it for long.” 

The two of you sat at that table for probably an hour, bickering over which of the Pirates of The Caribbean movies were the best, and why glitter was a detriment to society. Another round of drinks and the football star return to the table as he laughs when he spills a little of your overflowing drink. 

“No, no I assure you. Glitter originated in some high tech nuclear weapons factory to make the enemy go insane upon introducing it to an environment.” He pushes your drink toward you as you pull your hair back. Not only were you not anticipating for him to be this passionate about it, but you weren’t planning on the night going like this. 

You were enjoying yourself. Jake had told you about his time at UT, six years spent studying communications no less. 

It made sense when you really dissected it. Jake had the ease to hold someone’s attention: he’d held yours this long after all, and he was well spoken. Both were things that were shocking to you. He soon enough revealed the plan had always been football. Communications was for post-retirement, when he got tired out and wanted to be back in the stadiums. 

Stories of his dad commentating his high school games came fondly before he asked about your background. You were a bit hesitant to divulge too much, but what you had was pretty bare-bones. 

Music had always been a hobby but never a career choice. You’d planned to go into school for a degree in education, a masters in English. Go and teach for a bit before getting your PhD in some niche of the world of writing and then become a professor at your alma mater. 

With the rise of social media and the multitudinous connections of the internet, a little original song of yours got popular. Local radio picked it up and then your label signed you. 

“It all was pretty spontaneous, really,” you answer. “My career was in no way by design, but… I wouldn’t change it.” The smile on your face is small, but genuine as your hair falls back around your face. Tracing the rim of your glass, you keep your eyes down before a hand pushes your hair out of your face. Coming eye to eye with him, he grins. 

“Guess it was written in the stars then.” His response catches you. Jake’s eyes are much softer than when you’d approached him earlier. They were dark, focused and possibly a little mischievous. Now? They were gentle. Every shade reassured you that the boisterous man you’d seen in the office and the press was nothing like the man under the helmet. 

It made far more sense to you now. How he’d gotten women hooked on him. The abrasiveness and bold exterior was the casing to the real character. 

How many women had actually made it past the outside?

The rustling of a fabric on leather comes from in front of you, watching as the blonde pulls out a wad of cash from his pocket. 

“Please tell me this isn’t you trying to buy my affection there, Seresin.” As he stands up, pushing his wallet back, the grin carved on his face doesn’t leave when he shakes his head. 

“No, no, princess. This is for the bartender. Turns out you’re not a cheap date.” His knuckles wrap onto the table briefly before he disappears. You blame the blush on your face on the humidity inside the building. 

The two of you bid your goodbyes, before starting to the front of the bar to exit. Reaching the street, it’s expectantly empty. He takes the side closest to the street as the two of you head down the way, toward the row of restaurants and shops that were quiet for the night. 

“Are you hungry?” Jake’s voice breaks through the cold of late January air, looking at him quizzically. 

“If you’re hungry we could go back-” His hand comes to your back again as he shakes his head. 

“Oh-ho, no ma’am I promise, I’ve got something way better.” 

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Unfortunately, he was right. The two of you stand in the glow of food truck lighting, beyond messy tacos in hand. He’s watching you with a smirk on his face, obnoxiously chewing the fish taco in his hand. 

“Is that not the best taco you’ve ever had?” Again, his voice is filled with ardor as he watches you attempt to maneuver the soft corn tortilla that seems to be spilling into your napkin. 

“It’s… a taco.” You shrug, looking down at the brown beef meal in your hands. Jake shakes his head, still chewing. 

“No, no, I will not have you slander Ganso’s Tacos. Absolutely not.” He sets his red basket down on a table, hand in a vice grip around his taco. “Here, open,” he maneuvers closer and you shake your head, backing up. 

“I am not eating your taco!”

“Eat it!!” The two of you laugh. Finally, you concede and take a bite of the hand fed taco. When he finally takes it back to his plate, his expression eagerly waits for your reaction.  One hand covers your mouth as you chew, nodding as Jake looks like he just stole the Mona Lisa without getting caught. 

“You’re right.” One singular fist to the air and he’s back to scarfing down his tacos. 

“I told you. Way better than bar food. This is by far the best taqueria in all of California. And I stand by that.” 

With full stomachs and messy hands, the two of you start back toward the bar, where Jake’s parked. When you do, you finally notice a car has been tailing the two of you since you ordered your meal. 

The crowd in front of the bar proves that your teams were certainly on to something. Flashes of light start in an onslaught, your hand coming to block your eyes. Still, you keep walking toward them, only for Jake to grab your hand and guide you toward his car. 

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Voices shout, questions sail through the air, your name, his name, Jonah’s, more questions about football- it all gets crammed into the cacophony before the passenger door opens under Jake’s hand, guiding you to your escape pod. 

The driver side door causes the car to shake with an unceremonious thud. In seconds, the engine to the sports car is ignited and the two of you are underway. 

It isn’t until you get about two miles out that one of you finally speaks. 

“How long do you think it’s going to take for those to show up online?” White lines on the road disappear as you head further and further from the bars and closer to the hotel you were staying at for the weekend. 

“I give it maybe six hours. Four if we’re lucky.” He laughs, but it doesn’t match the hearty ones he shared with you earlier.

A sports broadcast plays lowly on the radio, both of you overwhelmed by the cameras that stimulating conversation was far from what either of you were concerned with. It isn’t long until you spot your hotel. Jake navigates into the lane closest to the front of the building, pressing down on the brakes. You’re just about to unbuckle when he pulls back out into the other lane, lurching forward and away from your accommodation. 

“Um. Hello?” You question. The car whips around a turn, green eyes fixated to the rear view. Shifting in your seat, you glance behind you. 

“We’re being followed.” Jake just barely makes the light before it turns red, leaving the tailing SUV behind. 

“It’s probably just paparazzi, no big deal.” It’s easy to shrug off for you, but Jake huffs. 

“Yeah. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel alone with vultures circling.” Navigating the CarPlay in the vehicle, he quickly moves to messages and asks his phone to send someone to your hotel to gather your things. 

“Jake, I’m-”

“You’re staying with me.”

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#top gun maverick #top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman fanfic #hangman x reader #hangman

[sometimesanalice]

Hey, Sailor

Summary: It’s Fleet Week and Rooster would rather be anywhere else than on the flight deck of the USS Portland. That is, until a pretty thing in a sundress catches his eye and then suddenly his day is looking up. 

Pairing: Bradley”Rooster” Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5.8K

Warnings: Flirty Banter, Smut, and Bradley Bradshaw in Summer Whites (Minors DNI)

Note: When @roosterforme​ asks you to write her a Fleet Week fic, you write the Fleet Week fic! Here you go, Em!  💛

Normally, Rooster loved Fleet Week.

He loved the lively atmosphere and the parades. He loved the free drinks that were handed to him as soon as he entered a bar. And he especially loved all the attention he got from women when he wore his Summer Whites.

He usually came back to the ship looking less than pristine with lipstick on the collar of his uniform and hidden on other places on his body.

The USS Portland was teaming with excited families and camera-happy civilians taking in the sights from deck of the transport ship as they settled in for the five-hour journey to the San Diego. It was a Fleet Week tradition to welcome people aboard for an immersive experience, picking them up from a port further up North and then cruising along the coast before making their final docking for the week.

There were grills set up on the deck and the smell of flame kissed hamburgers and hotdogs mixed with the sea salt air. The sun was shining and the mood was light.

But this year, Rooster simply could not be bothered to give a fuck.

Especially not when he could have been home already instead of being stuck giving tours on a ship that he’d never even stepped foot on prior to three days ago when he and Hangman had been given orders to join in the procession on the vessel into the city after completing a short training deployment.

His superiors had okay-ed the terrible suggestion from some random Public Relations Specialist who clearly didn’t realize that he had better things to do with his time.

Early that morning, Bradley had stood on the dock with his arms crossed and wearing an impassive scowl as they had lifted his Super Hornet onto the flight deck like it was some kind of decorative hood ornament.

Sure, it was fun to watch the kids’ eyes get wide with excitement as they ooh-ed and ahh-ed over the features as he pointed them out, but he was getting hot and uncomfortable in his uniform in the mid-afternoon sun on the black tarmac.

He’d rather be in his service khakis like Seresin. Or better yet, naked at home in his own bed.

How Hangman had weaseled himself onto barbecue duty with a beer in his hand, Rooster would never know. The bastard probably played his Texan sir, I came out of the womb grilling shtick.

And every time he passed by the son of a bitch would give him a cocky salute with his tongs.

Jake was irritating on the best day, but today he was downright insufferable.

And he knew it had everything to do with the fact that Hangman’s girlfriend was laughing and lingering at his side, having surprised him by flying in with tickets for the coastal cruise.

At least someone was having a nice time, because it sure as shit wasn’t him.

Rooster was in the process of wrapping up his fourth tour of the day and handing out a couple of Dixie Cup hats to kids on the landing deck on the stern when he was stopped dead in his tracks and had to do a double take because he eyes were definitely playing tricks on him.

You were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

And he swore for a minute time slowed down as you flashed the most gorgeous smile at some Junior Officer as you laughed along with whatever undoubtedly stupid joke he’d told you. All while the wind played with the ends of your hair.

You looked like such nice girl, such a good girl in your pretty light blue sundress.

The sun was bouncing off your shoulders and the little ruffle at the hem was taunting him with the way it danced around your thighs. It coasted over your curves like water, and fit you just snug enough that there wouldn’t be any Marilyn Monroe moments on deck, much to his disappointment. But the blow was cushioned by the stunning display of your smooth, shapely legs.

From the way your breasts bounced as you walked, he knew there was no way in hell you had a bra on under that little dress.

He’s never been able to resist a bad girl wrapped up like the girl-next-door.

From the second he saw you, he knew you were just his type.

And for the first time that day Bradley is grateful to be wearing the crisp, pressed Summer Whites. 

He knew how good his biceps looked in the short sleeves of his uniform. And the way his pants clung to his legs and ass. He’d been spending a lot of his free time in the gym lately and it showed.

He never did mind playing An Officer and a Gentleman when the occasion presented itself, he was always happy to help fuel some fantasies.  

The last time he had worn this uniform out during Fleet Week he ended up going home with an absolute smokeshow, so hopefully whatever appeal his uniform had for him back then can still work for him now.

Fleet Week was finally looking up for him.

However, what he didn’t like was the fact that the butterbar was still dominating your attention.

He wanted that smile turned on him. Wanted to see if the look in your bright eyes would be just as playful with your gaze pinned on him instead. He wanted to be the one making you laugh.

It’s not like he’s going to go over there and lick your face like a kid might try and claim dibs on a cupcake.

No, he was going to act in accordance to his rank and station as an Officer in the United States Navy.

Securing the white cap on his head from where it’s been tucked under his arm at every opportunity he’s had that day, he straightens up to his full height and purposefully struts over to you.

Bradley’s never been one to shy away from making an entrance.

He forcefully taps the younger officer’s shoulder, and glances down when the guy turns around to get a look at his name tag.

“Ensign Hubbard, you’re up for civilian tour duties. The next one is due to start at 1400,” he looks down at his watch for dramatic effect, “Which is in about 10 minutes on the starboard bow, so you best get going if you don’t want to be late, junior.”

He might feel a little guilty for springing this on the kid if it wasn’t entirely within his right to assign him the nonexistent task 684 feet in the opposite direction- a fact he learned in preparation for giving tours all day- and away from you.

Especially when he sees how flustered the guy gets as he rushes through his salute and the stammered apologies he gives you before he takes off in a brisk jog heading towards the other side of the ship.

He stands up a bit taller and makes himself a bit broader as your eyes sweep over him. 

“Apologies for interrupting, ma’am. But I’d be happy to pick up where the Ensign has left off.”

There’s no missing the appraising interest in them as you take him in.

“The tours are starting at the front of the ship now, are they?” you muse out loud with a little tilt of your head. “What are all those folks over there are lining up for then, I wonder?”

You point deliberately to the group of people who are currently being greeted by the Lieutenant who was scheduled to relieve Rooster of tour duties for the next hour.

“Mm, that sure is a mystery. But Hubbard seems like a smart kid, I wouldn’t worry too much about him.” He shrugs with an unapologetic smirk on his face.

You lift a pointed eyebrow at him.

“So, you sent him away…” the almost-but-not-quite question trailing in the breeze.

“I sent him away,” he readily agrees with a nod. His eyes catch on a golden heart-shaped locket that you’re wearing around that dainty neck as it glints in the sunlight.

A smug smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice where his eyes have dropped too, “You’re not even going to deny it, Sailor?”

“Nope,” he says with a grin. “And actually, it’s Lieutenant Commander.”

“Ok, Lieutenant.”

“Commander.”

You hmm contemplatively like his rank was somehow up for debate, toying with that damn little heart-shaped locket in a way that was tempting his eyes to drift further down.

Rooster didn’t think it could be possible, but you’re even prettier up close. He knew you’d be stunning, but he couldn’t have prepared himself for the way your mischievous eyes sparkled magnetically. Or for the warmth spreading in his chest with the way you are broadly smiling at him now.

The top buttons of your dress are undone one more than would be strictly considered family friendly. But Bradley wasn’t bothered by that in the least.

 Clearing his throat, he notes, “It’s a nice day for a sail.”

“Ensign Hubbard and I already covered that rather riveting subject earlier,” you tease while looking at him like well, what else have you got.

“Let me try again then.” If you wanted him to put in the work, he was more than up for the challenge. “What brings you for a casual five-hour cruise down the coast on one of the Pacific Fleet’s finest?”

“Now that’s not something we got to before he was telling me about what his ribbons meant in great detail,” you say with a laugh. “Would you believe me if I said I had a deep appreciation for $1.6 billion-dollar ships purchased with Uncle Sam’s defense budget?”

He gives you a half smile as he pretends to contemplate it for a moment, “You know, for some reason, I can’t say that I would.”

“Well, shucks,” you say with an over exaggerated shrug. “What about if I said I was roped into waking up at an ungodly hour to catch a flight up here because my best friend’s boyfriend is a Naval aviator and she wanted me to keep her company for the ‘casual five-hour cruise’, as you called it.”

“Now that I believe,” he drawled. “So, what’s his name?”

“Well, she calls him Jacob. He has one of those silly callsigns too, but I always forget it,” you scrunch your nose adorably as you search for it, “Something-man.”

“You mean Bagman?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.”

He smirks to himself. 

“I take it you know him then?” You wait for his nod before looking up at him from under your lashes and asking him, “Does that mean you have a callsign too?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s Rooster.”

He doesn’t miss the way you glance down, and he definitely doesn’t hold back his pointed smirk waiting for your eyes to meet his again.

And when he gives you a cocky raise of his eyebrow, all you do is shrug.

You didn’t just look like his type, you are exactly his type.

“Rooster Bradshaw, huh?” you ask, reaching out to tap a finger on rectangular name tag on his chest. “I take it you have a first name, Lieutenant Commander?”

“Sure do,” he drawls, “But it only seems fair that I get yours in return.”

You grin knowingly at him. His cheek ticks up as you stick your hand out towards him and give him your name. It’s pretty and suits you perfectly.

Bradley says it out loud savoring the syllables in his mouth as he shakes your outstretched hand. And he gives you his in exchange.

He likes how much smaller your hand looks in his.

“Since it seems like your friend has ditched you, what do you say about getting a tour? Not to brag, but I’ve been doing it all day and I’ve got it down to a science now.”

“A private tour? Lucky me,” you purr. “Lead the way Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You knew what you were doing, he’d give you that. And he was eating it up with a spoon ready to ask for second, third, and fourth helpings. 

It’s less busy on the flight deck, as people are collecting around the grills waiting for their turn in the buffet lines for the late lunch.

He starts off by showing you his aircraft, giving you a brief rundown of its features.

You run a hand over the body of his fighter jet as he wraps up his now well-practiced spiel, “Do I even want to know how much taxpayer money contributed to this?”

“It depends. Does your appreciation for Uncle Sam’s defense collection extend to F/A-18s too? Or is that strictly reserved for amphibious transport vessels?”

“I’ll keep you posted after I get the full tour,” you say coyly.

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep a lady waiting then. Should I?”

“No, you certainly should not,” you agree.

He guides you past the table that’s set up with squadron memorabilia for people to buy and to the door with a hand on your low back. He’s close enough to smell your perfume now, he wants to bury his nose in your neck to inhale the scent directly from the source.

Rooster navigates the two of you like a pro through the narrow passageways as he takes you to the mess hall where coffee and pre-sliced cakes awaited tour guests. From there he takes you to the galley, the wheelhouse, the engine control room, the 24-bed hospital ward, and the massive hull used to transport heavy machinery.

You as him thoughtful questions every now and then. And he does his best to answer them.  The two of you drift closer and closer, it doesn’t escape his notice the way you brush against him when you pass by to get a closer look at some of the things he shows you.

It’s easily his favorite tour of the day. 

He loves the sound of your laugh as he tells you about some of the mischief that he and members of his squadron managed to avoid getting caught doing.

Along with some of the things that they did get caught doing.

Your teasing grin and witty banter and little sundress have done a number on him. And he isn’t ready to wrap this up by delivering you back on deck until the absolute last minute he has to resume his official tour duties again.

So when he circles back to the airwing, instead of turning left when he should, he leads you to the ladder that would take you down a level.

And he knows he shouldn’t, that he could get in some big trouble for showing you areas that weren’t explicitly on the official list of tour stops. But he’s always been more of the apologize later type.

Plus, he hasn’t been on this ship for very long, it’s not his fault if he manages to get conveniently turned around.

Bradley waits at the bottom of the steep ladder, actively looking anywhere else but up as you make your descent. When you’re at level with him, he helps you down the rest of the way with a steadying hand at your waist.

And when you turn around he doesn’t step back. 

You reach up and run a playful finger along the brim of his cap, “So what’s a girl got to do to get a turn wearing the hat?”

His mind flashes with images of the last time he’d let a woman wear it.

“I’ll have you know this is technically Naval property, they don’t let just anyone have one. You usually have to earn it. But for you?” he pauses and gives you a heated once over, “I’ll let you try it on for free.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want any special treatment,” you say demurely. “But I think in this case, Uncle Sam would understand. I’m a model citizen after all.”

He takes the cap off of his head and gingerly sets it on yours, “You’re something else, that’s for sure.” 

It slides forward down your head, “Oh, it’s heavier than it looks.” And Rooster wishes he had his phone on him to get a picture for himself. He likes the way you look wearing his things.

“Looks good on you,” he hums, letting his finger brush against that little locket around your neck.

You run a bold hand down his chest, “Where to next, Lieutenant?”

This time he doesn’t bother to correct you, he knows the game you’re playing now. 

Instead he grips your hips and pushes you against the ladder and brings his mouth to yours.You make a noise of surprise before your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him in closer. 

The kiss starts out light and teasing. Your lips are so soft beneath his. He gently grazes his teeth against your lower lip, before gliding his tongue along the seam of your mouth seeking entrance. The sweep of your tongue against his is everything. The soft moans escaping you are making his pulse thrum in his veins. 

It would be so easy for him to get lost in the feeling of your perfect body against his and of the way your fingers were playing with the short hairs on the nape of his neck. But he’s already pushing the limits bringing you down here, he can’t get distracted by kissing you out in the open where anyone could stumble upon the two of you.

The small whimper that you make when he pulls away makes him grin. As does the sight of his cap sitting crookedly on your head. 

He thumbs at the lipstick that’s smudged at the side of your mouth, “C’mon, I’ve got one more place I want to show you.”

This time he takes your hand as he guides you down the gray passageway and through the door on the left.

The ready room on the USS Portland is much smaller than the one’s he is familiar with from the aircraft carriers he is usually on, but the set-up is mostly the same. There are a couple of projection screens adhered on the bulkheads and there are a few rows of leather seats with a swivel tray tables attached to the arm rests.

“Tell me what happens in here.” You ask him so genuinely, so sweetly and he already knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against you with the way you flutter those eyelashes at him.

So he tells you. 

He likes that you want to know these details about his job, he likes that he gets to share this with you. Even if the clock is ticking down before he has to get back on deck.

Rooster watches the tantalizing way your sundress dances around your thighs as you walk around the space. You take a seat in one of the chairs in the front row and pull the desk top over you before turning to him with a beaming smile with his cap still perched on your head.

And he is hit with a wave of affection for you so intense that it makes it hard for him to breathe for a moment.

He’s grateful when you see something else that catches your eye, giving him a moment to get himself back under control. You’ve got him feeling like he should be on his knees for you.

In the spot where he is used to seeing a lectern, on this ship there is a glossy wooden table inlaid with the ship’s coat of arm that you standing over.

“Does every ship have their own unique crest? Do you know what the symbols are for?”

He really needs to figure out who put him on tour duty and send them an Edible Arrangement or something. And maybe one for whoever put together the ten-page packet of “fun facts” that he had rolled his eyes at when he had first seen it.

“Yes, ma’am, I sure do.” He comes up to stand behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder as his arms cage you in against the table. “Yes, all ships come with their own. It’s something that the prospective commanding officers are responsible for designing when new ships are about to be launched.”

You lean forward a bit, gazing your ass against him, “Dark blue and gold are traditional Navy colors, right?” He hums confirmation into your neck, as he runs his mustache along your soft skin. He feels more than hears your sharp inhale. “What does the gear on the anchor mean?”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder, “The cog is a symbol of manufacturing, a nod to the ship’s namesake and the city’s history for building ships in World War II.”

You grab his wrist and bring his arm across your body, he takes the hint and presses in closer into you. “And the trident?”

God, you feel so perfect in his arms. Your body is fitting against his like a dream.

“The black symbolizes determination,” he murmurs into the space where you neck and shoulder meet. “And the choice of the three prongs is because it’s the third ship to be given the name.”

You lean your head to the side, and he takes the opportunity to trail open-mouth kisses up your neck. Your nails bite into his forearm in response, as you rock back against his rapidly hardening cock. “And the rose?”

“Portland is the City of Roses.”

“Does it have any other meaning?” you ask soft and breathy.

“It represents strong ties, baby. It’s a symbol for the supportive partners and wives of those serving onboard,” he whispers low and sweet into your ear.

“Bradley,” you sigh as you turn your head towards him for a kiss. It’s desperate and wet. And he can almost taste the neediness of your moan on his tongue.

He’s never done anything like this while on duty on a ship before, and the thrill of it has his veins thrumming with adrenaline.

“You’ve had me hook, line and sinker since the damn second I saw you.” He grinds himself against your ass and you whimper at the contact. “What do you want from me? I’ll be so good to you, so good for you.”

“Want you to touch me,” you pant into his mouth, “Want you to fuck me, Rooster. It’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about.”

“Fuck me.” He can feel his pulse thundering in his throat.

“I’m trying to,” you whine.

He barks a strained laugh before he spins you around, crowds you into the table. He doesn’t waste any time getting his lips back on yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You meet him stroke for stroke, just like you’ve been doing since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“This fucking dress,” he groans when he cups your breast through your fabric, as you fill his palm in just the right way. You arch your chest into his hand, and he was feeling entirely too self-satisfied in the confirmation that you weren’t wearing a bra. “Knew you weren’t a good girl.”

“So why are you treating me like one?” you taunt, breathlessly. Your greedy hands go straight to his cock, squeezing him through his pants.

Your hand feels so good on him.

“God, you’re so much fucking trouble,” he rasps, throwing his head back.You lean forward and your hot mouth works against the hollow of his throat. 

He’s trying to undo some of the tiny buttons that line the front of your dress, but the teasing way your tongue is dipping out to trace the line of his tendon is making it hard for him to think.

“Are you gonna show me how you got that silly, little callsign of yours or not?” You give him one more squeeze, before bringing your hands up to the button of his white pants.

He knocks your hands out of the way before roughly grabbing your ass and hauls you firmly against him, “That feel little to you?”

Your gasp makes his fingertips dig further into your ass. The pretty color of your eyes has been completely eclipsed by your heavy, dark pupils. He can feel the way your thighs clench together.

“You want my attention? You’ve got it, baby,” he roughly rasps, “Go on then, show me how bad you can be.”

He dips his head down for a filthy, hungry kiss.

You push him back with a hand to his chest and a gleam in your eyes. You hold his heated gaze as you slowly undo his zipper and reach into his boxer briefs to pull him out. He moans when your thumb sweeps over the top of his cock.

Rooster thinks for a second that you’re going to drop to your knees for him, the mental image of you looking up at him with those doe-eyes is enough to make his jaw clench with desire. Especially with the way your sundress is gaping open at the top, giving him a clear view of the swells of your breasts.

Instead, you surprise him by bending over that glossy table and shimmying the skirt of your dress up over your luscious hips.

“Holy shit.”

You’re wearing the smallest, laciest little thong he’s ever fucking seen.

The band is a series of crisscrossed straps attached to some intricate and dainty floral lace. The juxtaposition of it against your skin is enough to make his ears ring. He’ll be dreaming of the way you’re enticingly arching your ass towards him for months.

And he’ll sure as shit never be able to be in a Ready Room again without getting a hard-on. The memory of you bent over the table before him will forever be ingrained in his brain.

“Is this bad enough for you, Lieutenant Commander?” You shoot him a grin over your shoulder as you wiggle your hips invitingly.

That sultry smile is swiped from your face the moment his large hand connects with your perfect ass. The sound echoes throughout the small room. He palms you once more before he yanks down your barely-there thong.

“Gonna fuck that attitude right out of you.”

Giving himself a few rough pumps, he lines himself up and slides into you with one steady thrust.

You both release an unrestrained groan of the sensation of him filling your warm, wet cunt. He barely gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him before he starts moving.

“’s big,” you sigh shakily.

“Tell me how much you like this cock.”

He slaps your pert ass again when you release a breathy whimper instead of answering him.

“Feels good, Rooster.” Your hands are struggling to find a way to support yourself as he fucks into you. “You feel so good.”

He pushes your dress higher up your body, his eyes are greedy for more of your skin. What he wouldn’t give to have you entirely naked and spread out before him. He wants to see all of you, he wants to hear you loud and needy for him.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he murmurs as he watches himself smoothly gliding in and out of you.

The little noises you are making are driving him crazy. He knows you’re trying to muffle your sweet moans and sighs and whines. The sound of your bodies coming together fills the room.

How his cap is still perched on your head he doesn’t know, it jostles every time your bodies come together.

“I need more,” you beg, “Need you to touch me.”

“Ask me nicely.” He punctuates the demand with a sharp snap of his hips.

“Please, Bradley. Please.”

He slides his hand around to the front of you, his fingers drawn to your clit like a magnet. You keen at the contact and tilt your hips into his hand. The sound is music to his ears, “That’s more like it.” 

He doesn’t think there’s anything else better on the planet than being buried in your perfect pussy. You’re so wet for him. He already knows he’s going to need more of this, more of you.

“You’re taking me so well,” Bradley grunts as he speeds up his thrusts, “Looks like all you needed was a nice, thick cock. Just a sweet thing now, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god,” you gasp as you writhe against him. “F-fuck.”

He is so turned on by the way his hands span across you as he grips your waist and pulls you against him with every roll of his hips. His heart is racing in his chest.

The feeling of your body tensing around him is paradise. There is nothing he wants more than to be able to draw this out, but he is all too aware of how quickly time is slipping away from him.

He sets a rough and unrelenting pace. Redoubling his efforts on your clit, his indulgent strokes turn into tight, purposeful circles. And you cry out at the change of sensation on that sensitive part of you.

Your thighs start to tremble as his cock drags against that spot deep inside of you. The heat is pooling in his lower back as he fucks into you over and over again.

“Rooster, I’m gonna-”

“I know, baby. Let me feel it,” he murmurs hotly against your ear, his thumb rubbing back and forth across your clit. “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The goosebumps erupt across your body like fireworks a moment before he feels you shiver and tremble beneath him as you come with a choked sob. The way you spasm and clench around him is dizzying.

Bradley is teetering on the edge, your cunt felt like heaven. Warm and wet and gripping him just right. He almost doesn’t want to give himself up to it as the pressure at the base of his spine intensified. He doesn’t want to stop fucking you.

You’re so perfect for him.

He loses himself to the feeling of your pussy milking him as you continue to pulse and writhe in the aftershocks of your orgasm. He grips your hips harder as he pounds into you before emptying himself inside of you with a shattered groan.

And for a moment all he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears as he works to catch his breath. Rooster feels like his knees might buckle as the soft whimper you make when he pulls out of you.

He gently pulls that lacy little thong back up and helps to pull your dress back down over your hips and thighs before turning you around and lifting you onto the custom table. 

He doesn’t know how he is going to make it through the rest of the journey knowing his come is collecting in your panties.

You’re flushed and looking thoroughly well-fucked as you smile up at him brightly.

Bradley threads his finger under the chain of your little gold heart-shaped locket that was etched with a rose in full bloom, and lightly tugs you in closer for a lingering kiss.

“I see you found your gift early, baby.”

Bradley would never forget the first time he saw you that night at the bar downtown last year during Fleet Week.

He had noticed you right away, it had been impossible not to. You and your girlfriends had been all done up in hot pink outfits for the Bachelorette party you were out celebrating.

Your friend had flounced right up to Jake taking the shot of whiskey out of his hand before swallowing it down then cheekily offering to buy him a replacement. Hangman had been wrapped around her finger ever since.

While your friends had all but shoved you in his direction while he had looked on entirely entertained as you had shot a scathing glare back at them. A sparkling tiara that read Bridesmaid sat crookedly on your head.

And then you had greeted him with a “Hey, Sailor” so weak that the couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh. There was a split second where he thought that he might have fucked it up before it could even start, but then you smiled back at him.

It was a charmingly self-deprecating smile and he was yours from the moment he saw it.

“Hiding it in your nightstand next to the batteries wasn’t the most original of spots, Rooster,” you affectionately tease him. “I didn’t mean to peek, but the remote stopped working. I hope you’re not mad. I love it.”

He could never be mad at you, especially not with his necklace around your neck. You were his, and he was so gone for you.

“It looks so pretty on you,” he tells you softly as his fingers brush over your collarbones.

“Oh my god, Rooster, I can’t we defiled Naval property.” You giggle as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer to circle your arms around his neck.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve been defiling Naval property ever since you brought me home with you the night we met.”

You take that cap off of your head and set it back on his, and lean in to kiss him on the cheek, “Glad I’m getting a good return on my taxes then.” 

He snorts a laugh, “God, I’ve missed you, baby. What are doing here? I thought you weren’t coming until the end of the week.”

“And miss the visual and culinary offerings of the USS Portland? I wouldn’t dream of it.” You joke as you run your hands along his arms where they’re pressed on the table on either side of you. “This uniform drives me just as crazy as it did last year.”

“Just the uniform?” he asks as he nudges his nose against yours.

“Maybe it has a little something to do with the man in the uniform,” you make a little hum as you check him out. “You’re so tan, Bradley, have you been using the sunscreen I sent with you-”

He crushes his mouth to yours, you were undoubtedly best thing that’s ever happened to him during Fleet Week.

“I’m glad I still do it for you,” he murmurs against your mouth before giving you another deep kiss.

The two of you work quickly to get yourselves looking presentable again. He’s only got a little time left before he is due to return to his tour duties back on deck.

He helps you back up the ladder and takes that left turn when he’s supposed to this time. All while your hand is tucked securely in his.

When you’re both back on the open flight deck he walks you over to the railing along the edge of the ship and wraps you up in his arms to watch the coastline crawl by with his last few moments of freedom. 

“I really love Fleet Week,” you say with a contented sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

The golden rays from the sun are hitting you in a way that makes his chest warm.

“I do too, baby. It’s the best.”

Yeah, Rooster fucking loves Fleet Week.

Who doesn’t love a man in Summer Whites?! Consider this my formal petition for more Dress Whites in TG3!

Thank you for reading!

Hey, Sailor Moodboard

A peek inside the USS Portland One | Two

If you’re curious, here is some info on the crest I found! One | Two | Three

You can check out my other stories and series here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse​ @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes​

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 2

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 2010

---

He shakes his head, like clearing the fog from his brain, and steps forward. “I’m Jake,” he says, reaching his hand out toward you. 

It’s done in such a casually confident manner that it dares you to take a step back, out of his reach and far from his influence. You take his hand anyway. 

His palm against yours creates a slight buzzing sensation at your fingertips making you pull your hand away and tighten it into a fist before tucking it behind your back. “That makes more sense than the pretty brunette.”

“Oh, don’t flatter her. She’s not that great,” he says. There’s a light chuckle as he slips his hands into his front pockets. On any other man, you’d acknowledge the hint of nerves accompanying the action, but with this man in particular you brush it off. There is no way this man has ever been nervous a day in his life. “I’m surprised you’re up. Are you okay with your room?”

You glance down at the suitcase not far from where you stand. “I didn’t look for it. Seemed like snooping.”

“Oh, shit. That’s my fault.” Hand flying out of his pocket, he runs it down his face again. He blows out a breath that feels like some form of self-scolding for letting himself neglect you, then bends down to wrap his fingers around the handle of your suitcase. “You can come with me.”

The apartment, while nice, isn’t overly large. The door to what you learn is your room can be seen from your first few steps through the front entryway, but still, you’re glad you didn’t peek on your own. You could’ve found yourself face-to-face with his private space and unable to avoid developing opinions of him based on the first-glance contents of his room. 

With a turn and a push, Jake opens your door and stands back against one side of the frame so you can enter. Side-stepping past him, though, is a bit of a squeeze and you can’t help the way your breasts brush across his chest. You don’t miss his flinch and the sharp intake of air through his nose.

“Sorry,” you mutter. 

Whether or not he heard you goes unknown as he sets your suitcase down once you’re inside the room and begins his mini tour. “Um, bed,” comes out a little gritty. He points to the largest piece of furniture in the room like you’re a two-year-old learning the names of basic household items. With a cough to clear his throat, he continues. “That door over there is the closet,” he points some more. “And that one’s the bathroom. It’s small, but I hope it’ll be alright for you.”

There’s a pang in your stomach from his last two words. For you. An unnecessary addition with so much power. Power you refuse to let yourself dwell on. 

“It’ll be fine, thanks.”

“Right, well I’ll, uh–” Those eyes do their scanning of you again. Lips, breasts, hips. Blink and you would’ve missed it. “I’ll let you get some sleep,” he says. "It's nice to meet you."

You would say the same, but he’s gone before you get the chance. Shutting the door behind him, you toss your suitcase onto the bed and begin to unpack. 

—

The funny thing about these towns—while each one is different from another in appearance and people, they always reveal themselves to share a core component. Your willingness to stay put, and for how long, lies with this component. It is a matter of how intense this component—this judgment—is, and whether or not it infects enough around you to transform everything into a reminder of why you do not belong. While many things have the potential to prove you right or wrong as far as the degree to which you might be judged, what remains a constant disappointment is your attempts to obtain a job. 

It doesn’t matter where you look. You get the same once-over, the same raised brow, the same unspoken questions lingering in the air. Are you lost? Did you stumble through the wrong door?

In one day you’ve been turned down by three jobs with ‘help wanted’ signs stuck on the inside of their building’s front window. What’s worse is that, in following typical company policy, they don’t shoo you away at the door. They take your resume, they sit you down, ask you a host of questions, and eventually declare you’re not right for the position. 

A restaurant manager did not see you fit for a waitress. Neither did a cafe owner find you capable as a barista. The most painful, however, was also the riskiest. The head of the sales floor at the lingerie boutique who seemed to think women of a certain size aren’t in need of lacy fabrics that accentuate their best bits and pieces because surely they don’t have sex.

That was the one that did you in for the day and now has you moseying back to the apartment. 

You walk through the door and shed yourself of jacket, purse, and shoes, likely looking as exhausted as your new roommate did when you first laid eyes on him the night before. You knew you recognized something in the weariness of his eyes. While unexpected, last night Jake Seresin was tired because someone—or many someones—had worn him out. 

“Hi.”

You jolt upright, head instinctually turning toward the voice. You’re not used to sharing your space, and obviously so since Jake immediately raises his hands in silent apology for startling you.

“Hi,” you reply, the word riding on the sigh that passes through your lips. 

With as much as you can muster for him, you offer a smile before aiming for your bedroom. But you don’t get far. 

“What have you been up to all day?” he asks, halting you. 

He’s not going to let you go, you realize, not without giving him something in return. Though, seeing as he’s your new roommate who took you in on short notice and charges you pennies to stay, you figure you can oblige. 

He’s sitting at the island in the kitchen, now with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. His thumb taps away at the screen, but when you near him he quickly sets it down to offer you his full attention. It’s then that you notice his missing shirt. Your mind must have filled in that blank. You’d assumed some sort of tank top was hidden by the angle at which he sat when you entered the apartment; that the fabric’s color was not so different from the tone of his skin. Looking at him in his bareness now, you can’t ignore how ridiculous that thought was.

You also can’t ignore him; sitting there without shame, practically taunting you to run your eyes over every ridge and valley of his sculpted form. And it is sculpted. Artwork. 

But you don’t allow yourself the luxury. Instead, you answer, “Looking for a job.”

Jake sits a little straighter. “I can probably help with that,” he says. “I’ve got a friend who owns a bar down the street, and–”

“No!” you snap. The hope that it wasn’t as harsh as it sounded is snuffed out by the slight widening of his eyes. “Thank you,” is softer, “but no bars.”

He watches you a moment longer before he nods and repeats, “No bars. Got it.” Another moment of silence fills the room until he breaks it. “I’ll ask around.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.” You wave away the thought and shake your head, aiming to get off the topic. Solidifying that is your immediate shift onto him. He seems like a guy who probably enjoys talking about himself, anyway. “So, you don’t fly on the weekend?”

“Not unless I have to.”

“Have people stopped traveling on Saturdays?”

Blond brows pinch as he twists the beer bottle in absent-minded circles with his fingertips. “What?”

Crossing your arms, you step further into the kitchen until your stomach is resting against the edge of the island. “Your friend said you’re a pilot. I just figured you’d be working a lot.”

Jake’s face doesn’t change; still the epitome of confusion, and you don’t know how to fill the painfully long beats while he examines you. Why you let him examine you must be a slip of the conscious mind, but you keep still. Then his face settles. He takes a sip of his beer, sets it down, and, instead of simply looking at you, stares hard into your eyes. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Wh–” you pause, readjusting your stance. “What makes you think that?”

“Anyone who says ‘pilot’ in this town—or frankly, even close by—assumes Navy, not airline,” he says. If he’s insulted, it doesn’t show. “I’m far from some Delta guy.”

Internally you curse. That err in knowledge peels back a layer of your paint, inviting curiosity and questions. And by the gleam in Jake’s eye, you’re sure you’re going to get plenty. “You’re in the Navy.”

“I am,” he confirms with a single nod. “And most people here have ties to it in some way. But not you, it seems.”

You fidget in the gap between his statements. 

“So, where exactly did you come from,” he continues, a wry smile stretching his lips, “And how did you end up here of all places?”

When you meet his stare, you don’t care for the sparkle peeking through. “I drove.”

His head throws back in laughter. “That’s all I get?”

“That’s all you need,” you stress. It’s his own fault for not asking those questions following your email answering his ad. He had an opportunity. He didn’t take it. That’s not your problem. And the longer you stand here, clearly providing him with entertainment, you're once again struck with the desperation to get his attention off of you. 

Without much to grasp, you go for the obvious. You allow your eyes to trail downwards and morph your features into a forced grimace. “Don’t you wear clothes?”

“Oh.” Looking down at himself, a gulp bulges his throat. “My bad. It’s been a while since I’ve had to wear a shirt around the place.” Is that disappointment in his tone? Maybe. Who in the world wouldn’t be insulted at the request to put on more clothes instead of removing an additional article? You certainly have been, so who is to say Jake Seresin—who undoubtedly has never faced such a request—wouldn’t feel the same?

To your surprise, he hops up immediately and rounds the island for his room; a move you would appreciate much more if it didn’t reveal the gray sweatpants settled low on his hips. There’s a defined V and a line of hair that disappears below the waistband. You hate that V. You hate that dusting of hair, blonder against his tan skin. Men with Vs and an irritatingly perfect amount of hair there are trouble. Each and every one of them. 

“I’ll go get that shirt. Don’t go anywhere.”

For whatever reason—one you’re unwilling to dissect—you do as he asks. But then a light flashes in your peripheral vision. The screen of his phone in response to a new message. 

You don’t want to look, not really, but you can’t help yourself. Years of people whispering behind your back, sneaking glances, chuckling, has planted the evergrowing seed of paranoia. Inching closer to the phone, you tap the rectangular block on his screen that reads Nat. Though the phone is locked, the notification expands to reveal the full message. 

See, Paranoid is an interesting label. It accuses you of misunderstanding, of being too suspicious, too anxious, or even crazy; and you won’t deny you’ve probably been wrong before, assuming people are talking about you who haven’t spared you a thought. But sometimes, that label is unfair. Sometimes—often, in fact—you are right. 

And when you read ‘Not what you expected, is she?’ followed by a tiny smirking face, you know this is one of those times.

---

A/N: I hope you liked it! If there are typos blame that on my anxiety. I've got a life-defining procedure tomorrow so wish me luck

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado

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

[thewulf]

Wild Child || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: The four times Jake catches you in precarious situation plus the one time you catch him in one.

A/N: A request from a friend.: I’m sooooo sorry if your name is Heidi (You’ll see why). Really unedited but I wanted to get you guys something out. Please enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 6,200+

The First Incident

A wild child is how your family always described you. You liked ‘free spirit’ better. Wild child made you sound unhinged. You didn’t like to consider yourself unhinged per say but you couldn’t stand to be tied down to anything. One minute you were a white-water rafting instructor at the Grand Canyon, the next you’re teaching people how to paraglide in the Alps. You craved adventure. Loved it more than anything in the world.

The thought of a corporate job holding you down made you gag, literally. You knew this lifestyle wasn’t maintainable per say but you just couldn’t seem to give a damn. You let the wind blow you to your next opportunity. That’s how you ended up in San Diego as a water sports instructor. You’d been working as a ski school coach in Colorado when you got word help was needed on the West Coast. You approached the guy who needed help and the rest was history. You were on a plane to San Diego the next day with a job running the little shack on the beach.

You loved it. It might’ve been your favorite job to date. You got to hang out in the sun all day and rent Jet Ski’s, paddle boards and kayak’s to people. Your favorite days were the ones you got to do jet ski tours on. You’d spend endless hours on the open ocean having the time of your life. Your least favorite days were the ones when you had to do maintenance on all the equipment. Usually, Doug or Jim your coworkers would take on changing the oil out on the jet ski’s but naturally they were both off when one needed to be done.

It didn’t take long before you found yourself in a less than ideal situation. You’d forgotten to put the oil cap back on before cranking the engine on. Well, the entire contents of oil you just dumped in the chamber was now all over your face and clothing, the engine spitting it back at you.

“Fuck!” You cried jumping back away from the machine. Ripping off the safety glasses you used your hands and clothing to try and get the oil off your face. Without much success you paused trying to assess the situation.

You realized you had two options. Jump in the freezing ass Ocean or run into Penny’s place. Deciding on the latter option you pulled your shirt off leaving you in your bathing suit. Luckily, most of the oil was on your shirt avoiding the rest of your body.

It was only five so the bar had just opened, “Penny!” You called loudly for the woman as you walked into the Hard Deck.

“Y/N!” She called back before turning to you. When she did her face displayed every emotion. Her smiley face turned to shock as she took in your oily black appearance. Then it turned to confusion as she took in your entire appearance. You must’ve looked like a horror story walking into her bar. No shoes, no shirt and certainly a problem.

“The damn jet ski blew up on me. Marty’s cheap ass won’t upgrade them. It’s certainly nothing that I did!” Crossing your hands over your chest with a pout on your face making your way over to a bar stool you gave her an overly exasperated look.

The last and final emotion that crossed her face was with hilarity. She couldn’t stop laughing once she realized it was more than likely a self-inflicted casualty, “Did it now?”

Nodding your head, you gratefully accepted the rag from her. Beginning to wipe away some more of the oil from your face you heard some commotion from the front door.

“Penny!” A male voice you hadn’t recognized rang through the bar just as yours had seconds prior.

Her brows stitched together in confusion as she had just seen that same scene play out with you not a moment before, “Jake!” She replied, just the same as she had with you. Spinning around in the bar stool you were thankful the rag was covering your mouth because you were sure it would have dropped right then and there. The most devilishly handsome military man just walked through Penny’s doors, and you had your eyes set right on him.

He too, had his eyes set right on you but you had a sneaking suspicion it was from the engine oil that caked your face and upper body, “You have a little something here.” Jake pointed to his forehead giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Oh, thanks.” You rolled your eyes, “So helpful.” Dramatically you took the damp rag wiping your forehead free of motor oil, “Did I get it?” You quipped back.

He nodded smiling, enjoying how much of an attitude you already had with him. It made the game way more fun when they didn’t get off on the right foot, “You got it.” He nodded his head down, “Jake Seresin. Don’t think we’ve met.” The stupid cheeky grin never left his face. Only growing wider when he saw your irritated expression grow.

Quickly, you ran your hand along the other side of your face making sure to coat your hand in oil before accepting the handshake. His grin broke out into a full smile seeing your play. A low chuckle reverberated from his body as your hand coated his in oil, “Sorry, I thought you said I got it?” Giving him a wink, you snatched your hand back from his grip. Easy to do since they were both coated in the slippery liquid.

He tipped his head in your direction, “Fair play ma’am.”

“That’s all I do, Mr. Seresin.” Taking the rag, you fully wiped off your face. You knew your hair was coated but opted to throw it up in a bun until you’d be able to shower it off. Penny gave you a new clean one while she handed Jake a napkin after seeing the exchange between the two of you.

“Did you need something Jake?” Penny interrupted the two young adults who were seemingly very into each other. Penny could tell. She always could. It didn’t help that she hardly knew either of you. You’d just started at the shack two weeks ago, only occasionally crossing paths. You worked early and she worked late.

“I did.” He nodded looking back at you, “But for some odd reason, I can’t remember what that was.” He threw you a wink taking a seat next to you.

You wanted to roll your eyes, but something drew you into him. Like you wanted to know just a little bit more, “Cheesy.”

“She doesn’t like cheesy, noted.” Jake leaned back looking you over. He’d noticed you were just in your swimsuit, not really mad about it.

“Well, I didn’t say that did I?”

He took the beer Penny had poured from him, “Noted.”

The Second Incident

“No, no, no!” You yelled out while you running around the beach trying to collect the umbrellas that got pulled up by the rather strong gust of wind. You’d gotten three before the fourth got caught in another gust and took off.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You sighed before jogging along the water hoping to catch it before it went out into the ocean. You loved this job, but you didn’t love it that much to go swimming for it.

To your delight the blonde boy from the bar caught it before you did. Coming out of nowhere he grabbed the end of it before quickly closing it. After catching up to him you took the awkwardly large umbrella from his hands, “My hero! Thank you. Might’ve saved my job.”

He smiled back at you almost immediately, enthralled you were chatting with him so easily. It wasn’t that often he came across a woman that could hold her own with him. Natasha being one of the rare few. He had a feeling you were just like her with your quick remarks and witty comebacks, “You’re welcome…You never told me your name.” He frowned looking at you expectedly.

“I didn’t?”

He shook his head, “No ma’am.”

“Hmm.” You began to walk away knowing he’d follow right after you. You were oddly good at this game. Truth be told you hadn’t a clue where your confidence came from. Even with men as attractive as Jake you knew how to wind them up and get them to do your bidding. A unique skill not only reserved for the men. You mom always said you’d make for a great politician because you were a master at manipulating people to do what you needed them to do. She always made it sound cooler than it was. But you sure did use that skill to your advantage in these situations.

“Aren’t you going to tell me?” He caught up to you with ease. Your smaller frame and the gigantic umbrella slowed you down.

“Now, what’s the fun in that?” You gave him a wide grin already seeming to know how to reel him right into you.

He paused for a moment before making his way back to you, “I’ll go ask Penny.”

“Go for it. That’s cheating but it’s fine.” You knew military men had a weird thing with cheating so again, you used it against him.

“That’s not cheating!” He took the umbrella from you, tired of seeing you struggle with it while he knew he could carry it so easily.

“Thanks,” You smiled up at him before heading back to the shack. A nasty storm appeared to be rolling in that wasn’t on the radar that morning. You wouldn’t have set out the umbrellas had you known it would be coming in so quickly, “But it so is cheating!” You couldn’t drop it either.

“In what world?”

You shrugged, “Mine.”

“Fine.” He nodded his head placing the umbrella down in the shack, “What’s it going to take for me to get your name?”

Returning the smile while tapping your finger on your chin you answered him, “I don’t know yet Jake.”

Slumping over slightly he looked a tad defeated, “Well this is impossible.”

“Giving up already Mr. Seresin?” You challenged him. Another thing you knew military men loved, a good challenge.

Shaking his head vigorously he turned the frowned back into that charming smile you already loved, “No, didn’t say that did I?”

Shaking your head, you could only answer, “Fair play military boy.”

“Navy.” He corrected you. Not that you were wrong per say but you weren’t specific enough.

“Navy boy.” You nodded at him, as a touché, “What do you do for the Navy anyway?” You wanted the conversation to continue. Jake intrigued you. Not many people did. You’d come across all sorts of fascinating and downright boring people as you traversed the world. But few captured your attention longer than a few hours.

“If I answer, will you give me your name?”

Shrugging you answered, “Maybe.” You respected the little game he was playing. It was fun. Fun intrigued you. Fun kept you engaged with him.

“I’m a pilot.”

“Ohh, you get to fly fast planes?” He’d really got you now. Planes had always fascinated you. You loved adventure more than anything in the world, but planes always seemed to be off limits, especially fast ones.

“Something like that. We call them jets.”

You nodded along enthralled by the admission, “That’s really cool Jake.” It was a high compliment from you and Jake knew it. He knew he intrigued you as much as you intrigued him. You wouldn’t have tolerated his presence if you felt otherwise. Something he picked up on quickly, you spoke your mind and you weren’t afraid who heard. A rare quality he rarely saw in people.

“It is. I love it.” His smile softened for the first time around you. You noticed how the cheeky grin downturned ever so slightly into a more genuine smile. One you knew that likely didn’t come around often.

“Y/N. That’s my name.”

“Y/N.” He repeated back, “That’s beautiful.”

“You should tell that to my mother. My dad wanted to name me Heidi. She saved me from that childhood torture. Bless that woman.” Smiling you leaned back against the shack.

Jake smiled a bit wider taking in the small bits of information you were willing to share about yourself. He had a feeling you were a closed book masking being an open one. He understood, he was the same way. An extroverted persona on the outside and a hidden softer side that only came out around people that wee trusted. There was nothing wrong with this per say it was just exhausting. Having to put a wall up 24/7 wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed.

“Maybe one day I’ll get the chance to Y/N.”

You giggled. A sound you hadn’t heard in so long. The last time you felt this stupidly giddy from a boy’s comment was ages ago, back in college when you were tied down, “Maybe Mr. Seresin. Just maybe.”

The Third Incident

The day was brutal. The sun beamed down at you all morning and afternoon. You could hardly sit in the shade because almost all of your equipment was rented out. It wasn’t a bad thing. You were raking in tips. But it made for a long and exhausting day. That paired with no air conditioning made you feel like you were starting to go a little crazy.

So, when you turned over the key in your vehicle and it didn’t start you all but lost it. You let yourself yell once and shed a tear out of frustration before heading into Penny’s place. Lucky for you she opened up a bit earlier on the weekends to attract more customers from the beach who wanted to day drink.

You spotted the woman quickly before making a beeline straight towards her, “Penny, please tell me your mechanic of a boyfriend is around.”

She frowned, “No, he’s out of town. What’s up?”

“Damn.” You sighed taking a seat at the nearly empty bar. You hadn’t seen Jake and his Navy buddies sitting in the back as you made your way straight to the bar. But he saw you. He always noticed you. The simple chats started turning deeper as both of you tip toed around what you both wanted but neither wanted to admit, “This one’s going to cost me. Car won’t start. Hopefully it’s just the starter or the battery.”

Both of you were terribly afraid of commitment for one reason or another. But sometimes that spark that you find can’t be put out. The flame couldn’t be diminished. It needed to be explored. The spark was slowly growing into a flame and neither of you wanted to extinguish it but neither brave enough to let it grow. To let the flame, turn into a fire. For that meant commitment. And commitment was terrifying.

It made sense for Jake. He was always on the move. Always going from one base to the next. Early in his career he would try but it got too hard. It was hard to fall for someone and then have to move because he was reassigned to a new base. It was way easier being an asshole who was there for the hookup than commit to someone. But it was different now. He’d completed all his goals. Done what he wanted to accomplish as a pilot. If he ever wanted to be an admiral, he needed to clean up his act and excel as an instructor at Top Gun. Show Naval leadership he was meant to be a leader too.

It made sense for you too. You were in an amazing relationship throughout college. You’d met a boy early on in your freshman year and stayed with him through your senior year. He’d even proposed. But then he got sick. The sickness took him away from you. So, you ran. Your wild child was let out. You couldn’t be tied down again. You couldn’t go through that again.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry Y/N. How about a beer on the house?” She smiled as sweetly as she could. She knew how shitty the feeling was. Unreliable vehicles were the worst. Lucky for you it wasn’t a far walk home worst come to worst. The only downfall of the lifestyle was never having enough money. A tow was certainly out of budget. It needed to be fixed in the lot. You’d figure it out. You always did.

Sighing and lifting your head from the bar top you gave her a thumbs up, “Thanks Penny.”

Her eyes widened spotting the blonde pilot making his way over to you. Penny was many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She certainly wasn’t blind. She didn’t know Jake well, but she’d heard about him. Heard all the rumors of the fuck boy that he supposedly was. She’d yet to see it. Over the last few weeks, he’d had nothing but eyes for you.

Penny had also gotten to know you a whole hell of a lot better as you spent the last bit of your day here all too often now. There were usually hardly any customers and Penny lent the best conversation you’ve come across in San Diego. So, you started coming to the Hard Deck every day after work. She realized quickly that you were damn near oblivious to Jake’s feelings. Always flirting back but never agreeing with Penny about his intentions.

“Why the long face, sweetheart?” Jake had begun using those sweet terms of endearment a few days ago. Finally finding the courage to make his feelings a little more obviously known. But of course, you hadn’t a clue. It didn’t mean anything for you. Your way of deflecting, naturally.

“Jake, hey.” You straightened up a bit, “Car won’t start.”

He frowned, “That’s no good. Let me take a look.”

Your eyes peaked up in curiosity, “You know cars?”

“I know jets. How different can cars really be?”

Laughing you nodded, “I’m pretty sure they’re really different actually.”

“You have no faith in me darling.”

“Oh, have at it. Just don’t break it any further.” You smiled taking a sip of the beer. He stood for the stool waiting for you.

Giving him a quizzical look, he continued, “After you.”

“You were being serious?” You set the glass down. It wasn’t very often that people went out their way to help you. That was another problem with the nomadic lifestyle you’d become accustom too.

“As a heart attack. I’ve got some tools in my truck. I can figure it out.”

Hopping down from the stool you gave Penny a wave. She gave you a knowing head shake waving you off. Leading Jake to your car you popped the hood to give him a look.

“Can you turn it over?” He asked. Giving him a nod, you tried to start the engine only to be met with silence, “Just a dead battery. Let me go get my truck for a jump start.”

Another few moments and a jump start later you were met with a started vehicle. Jake parked the truck next to yours. Getting out you were too afraid to turn it off before driving to a car shop to swap out the battery.

“This time you’re my Knight in Shining Armour.” You gleamed up at him as he made his way to the driver’s side of your vehicle.

“I’m honored, really.”

“Thanks, fly boy. I gotta go get a new battery now.”

“Fly boy?” He smirked.

“Mhmm, heard you and your friends talking the other day. The girl said it and it stuck. I like it. Fly boy.”

He opened your car door, “Then you can call me fly boy. If you like it.”

“Didn’t know I needed your permission.” Again, you challenged him. You always seemed to challenge him. Making him second guess that smoothness that always seemed to work. Not on you though. You got the better of him all too often now.

The Fourth Incident

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You grumbled taking a seat in front of the knotted mess before you. You’d let the boys take the parasail up only for them to come back to you with a sheepish grin on their faces and a very tangled parasail before them.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Doug, usually your favorite co-worker replied seeing your very annoyed expression.

“It’s fine… just go help the customers. This is going to take me a while.” You let out a frustrated groan. At least it was a mindless task.

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded and quickly left, not wanting to get another earful from you.

“They certainly don’t make this job easy.” You sighed leaning back against the shack. You didn’t have a particular talent for untangling things, but you knew the boys certainly didn’t have the patience to even try. So here you were stuck with a loopy mess of ropes and cables.

“You always talk to yourself?” That now-familiar voice of the blonde pilot spoke out startling you from your focus.

Jumping slightly, you slapped his ankle, “You always stalk me?”

“I do not.” He scoffed sliding down the wall to sit down right next to you. He was close but neither of you made the effort to move farther apart.  Not even a little. He let his thigh rest against your bare one. It was a hot one, so you were without shorts, just bathing suit bottoms. He was testing your boundaries and you were more than happy to welcome him right on in.

“I didn’t say I was complaining about it.” You quipped back.

You earned a hearty laugh from him. A sound you’d learned to cherish over the blossoming friendship you wished would turn something more, “You never cease to surprise me Y/N.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” You grinned up at him momentarily forgetting about the mess laid before you.

“It’s a great thing.” He answered quickly not wanting to place doubt into your head, “You’re incredible. You know that right?”

Heart stuttering you snapped your head back up to him. What was he saying? What was he trying to imply? Was he trying to get you all sorts of flustered because it was certainly working. You’d always been awkward when receiving compliments so when Jake threw that one at you it made you want to disappear right then and there.

“If you think so.” You nodded your head gingerly making sure to focus your attention on the rope and not the gazing eyes of the man you’ve been crushing on a little too hard.

He took your hand in his, “I know so. You’re beyond fascinating. Every time I get to know a little bit more about you, I’m infinitely more intrigued by you. Rooster called me out on it, said I never seemed to shut up about you.” He admitted. He wasn’t all too sure why he was telling you this. It was easy with you. He wanted to tell you things. Things he’d never dream of sharing with a girl before. But with you it felt so natural. So effortless.

It wasn’t often somebody could make you blush, but Jake was doing an exquisite job of it. A fiery blaze crested up your neck settling on your cheeks. Thankful it was warm out you could just blame it on the sun, “Rooster?” You questioned. You’d yet to meet any of his friends but that didn’t seem like a terribly common name.

“Bradley. The one with the stash. It’s a call sign. We all have one.” He smiled knowing just how odd it sounded when he said it out loud.

“What’s yours?” You asked wanting the conversation to go on. He too intrigued you. You seemed to get lost in conversation whenever you ran into him. It too felt natural with him. Like two puzzle pieces just waiting to be linked together.

“Hangman.”

You smiled wondering where in the hell that could’ve come from, “That’s an interesting call sign.”

“You think?” His eyes stitched together in curiosity.

“For sure. I wonder what mine would be? I’m not cool enough though. I’d never make it.” You admitted to him looking away afraid you’ve overstepped.

He studied you up and down as if trying to come up with one on the spot. Not a second later he responded with one, almost as if he’d thought it through before, “I’d call you Bird.”

“Bird?” You grinned curious as to why.

“You’re a free spirit. Like a bird. Floating through the air making it look effortless even though you’re working harder than ever. You have a certain ease to you that makes you so free.” He paused collecting his thoughts, “And you’d make it just fine. You’re more levelheaded than half the guys I train on a regular basis.”

“Oh, that’s frightening Jake. I’m not even that levelheaded!” You laughed feeling a bit concerned over the state of who was employed by the Navy.

“I know.” He winked at you letting his leg full press into yours. The closeness let goosebumps ripple down your legs sending a shiver over your body. It frightened you how easily he affected you both mentally and clearly physically, “It’s terrifying who they let fly those things huh?” He laughed taking a cable in hand beginning to help you.

“Suppose you have to be some level of crazy, eh?” You giggled picking up another cord after untangling the first.

“You bet sweetheart.” He turned his body more towards you, pressing his thigh further into yours. You were sure you were about to explode from the contact. Hopefully it didn’t look like it. You had to play this cool. You’ve been doing so damn good over the last few weeks. But he was making it hard, very hard, “So.” He continued before pausing again giving you a look as he picked up another tangled cable.

“So.” You responded by looking back at him. He was giving you a look you had yet to see from him just yet. Almost nervous?

“Where are you off to next? Doesn’t seem like you stay in one place for too long.”

You shrugged, “I’ll be honest. I don’t have a clue. I like it here though. Usually something just falls into my lap taking me onto the next thing…” You smiled reminiscing through some memories before continuing, “But like I said. I like it here. The weather is amazing, and the people are even better.”

You really hadn’t thought about moving on. Not yet at least. It felt like you’d finally gotten into a rhythm here. Normally that’d terrify you. But it felt so damn right here. Like something was begging you to stay. That something might have been sitting there in front of you. Even if you’ve only been here a few months and known him less than that it still felt right. If there was one thing you always did was trust your gut and it was telling you to stay. Screaming at you to stay. It was a foreign feeling for you, but you welcomed it. The nomadic lifestyle was utterly exhausting and somewhat lonely. You were ready for change as you approached your thirtieth year.

He cracked another smile at your last statement, “Yeah? Even better than the Swiss?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded looking up to him again. You could’ve melted right then in there if humans could. The look he was giving you could make a strong man weak, “Way better than the Swiss. Much cuter too.” You chimed in making sure he knew you were talking about him.

“High praise.” He smirked leaning his whole body just a bit closer. You’d usually protest as it was so fucking hot out but this was a dream for you. Jake was practically on top of you this time. It must have looked funny from a distance. Two sweaty young people lost in each other’s eyes almost on top of each other on the beach.

“It’s only the truth.” Your face was so close to his. God you’d give anything to just kiss him. But you wouldn’t dream of making that move. That’s far too bold even for you. And what if he didn’t want it? You’d never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment.

“Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m planning on staying for a little while too. I’m tired of jumping base to base. I just want to stay somewhere for a while you know?”

“It’s tiring.” You agreed with him, “I get it.”

“Would you stay here?”

You nodded your head vigorously, “I would. For the right reasons.”

Licking his lips while looking at yours he mimicked your head nod, “Good to know.”

The Fifth Incident

Standing waist deep in the ocean you wanted to be annoyed but the man standing in front of you was making that very difficult to do so. His cute little grin and snickers only made you laugh along with him, “Which one’s the gas again?” Jake asked leaning back on the jet ski you were trying to get him to take out.

“Right hand is the throttle, for the fourth time Mr. Seresin.” Playfully rolling your eyes you walked around the jet ski to do the final checks ensuring it was up to snuff before he took it out on the ocean.

Grinning from ear to ear he knew he had you. He had you wrapped around his pinky finger. Not that he was any different. You had him whipped and you weren’t even dating yet. Instead, the two of you were dancing around deeper emotions every time you saw one another. And the two of you sure did see each other as often as possible. After he helped you untangle the mess that was the parasail the two of you made it a point to see each other every day. He’d come find you while you were wrapping up work or you’d meet him at the Hard Deck.

You’d even gone so far as to meet a few of his Navy friends, at his request. Being far too nervous and not having a clue what the relationship was with the blonde pilot you were nervous to meet them. He wouldn’t take no for an answer though, bringing them to you instead.

As unshy as you were with your opinions it was becoming harder and harder to have the ‘what are we?’ conversation with him. You were having far too much fun in this stage that you didn’t want to ruin it. You started to have legitimate feelings for the flighty boy. It terrified you a bit. The last time you allowed yourself to feel things it ended horribly.

But even you had to admit you were exhausted of running. Running from feeling things. Afraid to commit to somebody. Afraid to tie yourself down.

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.,” Wiggling his eyebrows he leaned over towards you as you finished up the pre-op checklist.

“You’re welcome, Hangman.” This time you were smirking, loving to throw him off his game whenever you could. Initially refusing to use the call sign you decided to only throw it out there when you felt like you needed to one up him.

Eyes raised in curiosity he broke out into a grin seeing your expression. He’d never felt like this before. Felt so effortlessly comfortable around somebody. Like he knew you’d never judge him for a thing. You’d be there for him no questions asked. The two of you just clicking like nothing he’d ever experienced in his lifetime. He had to admit it terrified him a bit. But he was also excited. To try something new. To dive into a relationship with you headfirst. So long as that’s what you wanted. That’s why he was playing it so cool. He knew how much of a flight risk you were if he moved to fast. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you before he even had the chance to try it out. So, he decided to let you get comfortable and hopefully make a move. If you were too afraid to do so he’d do it eventually. He had nothing but time with you though. So, he wasn’t going to rush it. Terrified to mess it up before it started.

“So how long do I get out there darling?” He was testing your boundaries now. Wanting to see how you’d react.

Your heart rapidly picked up pace hearing that term of endearment escape his lips knowing that you could really get used to hearing it, “Thirty minutes. Then I have paying customers booked. So don’t be late.” You eyed him making sure he got your message loud and clear. He’d been begging you to go on one, but you’ve quite literally been booked out. Busy season was mad. But you had a customer cancel on you last minute which gave Jake the opportunity.

“Got it. See you soon pretty.” He shot you a wink before speeding off. Making sure to splash you with the throttle. Flipping him off you rung your hair out as you walked out of the ocean.

You’d only noticed he’d been gone for a little too long when the next clients walked up. You searched the ocean spotting Jake drifting a little bit further out than he should’ve been. Hopping on the reserved Jet Ski for staff you took off in his direction.

“What the hell Jake? I said thirty minutes.” You frowned at him pulling up beside his weirdly quiet one.

“I would’ve darling but well, it died on me.”

“Hop on.” You sighed annoyed the stupid thing gave out on you. It always reminded you of how cheap the dude who ran this place was.

You hooked the tow line up to it, getting good at it now, before towing everything in, “Looks like you caught me at a bad time.” You felt him chuckle as he pressed his chest into your back. Taking full advantage of being the passenger. You were thankful you couldn’t see his shirtless chest, that’d surely send you over the edge now.

“At least it’s you this time.” You laughed along with him. You felt as his arms tightened around your waist. Pulling him all that much closer to you.

Much to your chagrin you reached the beach before you knew it. Jake waited around as you got the family off on their adventure. Approaching him with a grin on your face you sat next to him at the picnic table by the shack, “Have fun at least?” You asked.

“Absolutely. Any time I get to spend with you is a good time.”

Pushing his side lightly you hid your gaze away from him, “Cheesy.”

“Only for you.” He snaked his arm around your waist. Not forcing you to look up to him but letting you know he had you.

Another goofy grin graced your features. He always knew what to say, “You’re sweet to me Jake.”

He nodded, “Because I like you. A lot. You know that right?” He admitted straight out. He let you go at your own pace, but he wanted you to know now. He knew. He adored you. He’d never felt this type of way with anybody before you. He thought he had but he realized he hadn’t. This was something special.

“You do?” Confusion then joy broke out from your face

“I do.” His smile turned up even further seeing the recognition cross your face. Had you really not known? Or were you in your own head like he had been so many times before?

“Like more than friends like?” You asked to confirm.

“Way more than friends.”

“Oh, wow.” You turned away heart racing. Sure, your face was as bright as a cherry tomato it was now or never. He’d laid it all out on the line for you. You could do it.

“Hopefully that’s a good wow.” Smirking he leaned a little closer to you.

It felt like your heart stopped for a moment, “It’s a very good wow.”

“Yeah? Then you’ll let me take you on a date?” Jake didn’t often look nervous, but he looked terrified now. He hadn’t expected this. Not even in the slightest. But he’d roll with it.

“You’d want to?” You returned your eyes back to his.

“Oh darling, I’d love to.” He reassured you taking your hand in his.

“Then I say yes.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You that excited?” You teased him.

“Sweetheart, I’m more than excited. Whatever that is.” Tossing you a wink he stood from his seat, “I’ll pick you up at six. Can’t wait to see you pretty.”

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

[vivalas-vega]

make the friendship bracelets / dagger squad x reader

this is for the top gun x swiftie girlies. I am in the midst of making as many friendship bracelets as I can fit on my arms for the eras tour and had this idea !!! it’s a little short but this is just a fun little drabble :) i hope you enjoy!!!

make the friendship bracelets / dagger squad x reader

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 600

warnings: none :) 

You cleared your throat as you all sat around a booth, knowing this was your moment before everyone started to head home for the evening. “Going to make a speech?” Hangman asked, eyeing you as you looked at everyone expectantly waiting for their attention. You just smiled, reaching into your purse to grab the friendship bracelets you’d spend the past few days making and handing them to their respective owners without a word.

“What’s happening right now?” Rooster asked, looking down at the delicate beaded string in confusion.

“They’re friendship bracelets, Roo,” you said dryly, fighting a smile. 

“Why?” he asked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Why is it a bracelet? I’m not in the mood to get existential tonight… I just thought, well… I’m not making a speech but you guys are my best friends and I’ve never really had best friends before so… friendship bracelets,” you said almost awkwardly as everyone just stared at you before their resolve cracked and they were all excitedly putting them on. Well, everyone except for Bob, he had put his on instantly and had been grinning down at it the whole time.

“What is this, summer camp?” Hangman asked, but you didn’t miss the slight glimmer in his eye as he looked it over.

“Did you pick these colors because of Star Wars?” Fanboy asked and he beamed when you nodded. “This is awesome!”

“I can’t believe you did this! This must have taken you hours,” Phoenix said. “This is so sweet.” 

“This is my favorite thing ever, thank you so much.” Bob said, looking down at his like you’d presented him with the Holy Grail before reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. 

“My daughter is going to be so jealous,” Payback said and you just smirked as you grabbed another from your purse and slid it across the table. “You made one for her?” he asked, looking at the much smaller bracelet in awe.

“Just securing my place as the favorite aunt,” you shrugged and Phoenix shot you a look.

“Hey, a bracelet changes nothing. I’m the favorite aunt,” she said and you laughed softly.

“Whatever you say, Phe,” you said as you slid to sit on the top of the bench and hooked your legs over to hop out, approaching the bar to meet Penny who gave you a bright smile.

“Another one?” she asked, but looked at you confused when you shook your head and instead presented her with a bracelet. “For me? Are you serious?” she asked, slipping it on.

“Of course, you’re a part of our team too.” 

“Just for that, this is on me,” she said, placing a fresh beer in front of you and you turned to look at Maverick who’d cleared his throat.

“Can I help you?” you asked, trying to stifle your smirk.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing…” he replied, nonchalantly sipping his beer but eyeing yours and Penny’s wrists. “Just wondering where mine might be.”

“Sorry, old timer. There’s a height limit on friendship bracelets,” you said and Penny cackled from beside you. “Must be this tall to ride,” you held your hand up just above his height and you couldn’t help but laugh at his shocked expression as you pulled his from your pocket, donning his callsign just like everyone else’s. 

“Oh, I didn’t… I was only joking,” he said but you could tell from the look in his eyes how much it meant to him.

“Of course you were, sir,” you exchanged a knowing look with Penny before heading back to your friends who were now all arguing over who had the best one and you wouldn’t have expected anything less.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #rooster x reader #hangman x reader #phoenix x reader #fanboy x reader #bob x reader #payback x reader #coyote x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin x reader #natasha trace x reader #bob floyd x reader #reuben fitch x reader #javy machado x reader

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Chapter CW: 18+ ONLY, Swearing, suggestive language.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Time to meet the rest of the team! Including our main man~ Thanks for all the support on the prologue! Nothing makes me happier than reading y’all’s comments!

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“And that’s everything,” Pete says with a grin and a shrug of his shoulders as you approach the board room. He’s been giving you a tour of the facilities since it’s your first day as the team physician of the newly formed San Diego Dogfighters. You were still pinching yourself. Two weeks ago you’d been unemployed and spending every single waking moment stressing about what would happen once you finished your fellowship at the Cedars-Sinai Kerlan-Jobe Institute when you’d quite literally crashed into the opportunity of a lifetime when hockey legend Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had driven his motorcycle in front of your car at a gas station. Turns out he was the newly appointed head coach of the San Diego Dogfighters hockey team and when you’d let slip that working for a hockey team was your dream he’d offered you an interview on the spot.

Since then, you’d found out that he hadn’t been kidding when he said that wasn’t his department as the general manager, Beau Simpson had exasperatedly informed you during your interview. Thankfully Mr. Simpson had been impressed with your resume and had offered you the most level-headed response to your situation you’d received in the three months since the incident occurred. You’d taken a chance in trusting him with the details of what happened but you knew it was better that he heard it from you before someone else could twist the story with their own opinion and interpretation of the events. The two of you had struck an agreement that stipulated the basic work contract to account for your situation, but the job was yours.

Now here you were, on your first day, being shown around your new place of work. “Now I want to introduce you to the newest member of our team, he’s going to be our team captain, so it’s imperative that you two get acquainted as soon as possible so you can start organizing physicals for the team. The ink’s quite literally still drying on his contract, but I think he’ll be the perfect man for the job.” You nod along, as you’ve been for the better part of the last hour. “By the way, kiddo, I never got the chance to ask. You said the Ducks were your second favorite team, who’s your first?” His eyes twinkle with humor as you chuckle, embarrassed as you remember your first interaction.

“The Dallas Stars,” you answer. “I’ve been a fan of them for as long as I can remember.” Oh but you can remember, you remember the day your loyalties shifted from the childhood love of Anaheim you’d shared with your dad, but you’ve embarrassed yourself enough in front of Pete Mitchell for a lifetime, or so you think.

His grin widens and his eyes light up conspiratorially as he pushes the door to the conference room open. “Well then, I think the two of you are going to get along just fine.” You blink as your eyes adjust to the change from the dimmer ambient hallway lights to the bright LEDs in the conference room, just as the seat closest to the door turns to reveal its occupant. “Jake! I want you to meet our brand new team physician. Kiddo, this is Jake.”

Jake Seresin. Jake motherfucking Seresin, centre and captain of the Dallas Stars, and the very reason you became a Stars fan in the first place, stands from the chair and offers you his hand. “Hey there, it’s nice to meet you, ma’am.” His grin is wide and just as blinding as it is on TV, but it doesn’t touch the storm in his eyes. The piercing green that’s always warm, inviting, and jovial now looks more like a raging sea. Thankfully your professionalism manages to rush back to your brain in a timely manner and you take his hand, feeling the calluses on his palm scrape the smooth skin of yours.

“H-Hi,” you introduce yourself with the eloquence of a deep sea fish, as he releases your hand before your curiosity gets the better of you. “I thought you played for the Stars.” It’s harmless enough, it’s not like you’ve divulged anything personal but it feels like you’ve revealed yourself as some kind of unprofessional super fan in front of someone who is first and foremost your colleague and your patient for God’s sake.

He shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck as he deliberates how to answer your question before he settles on, “I did, until,” he breaks eye contact to check the watch on his wrist. “38 hours ago.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage as your brain descends into chaos. “Well, I guess since I signed about a week ago, welcome to the team.” He lets out a laugh at that and you watch some of the weight lift off his shoulders. Your mind is racing but the sensible part of it reminds you that this is your place of work, he’s just a client, regardless of who he is.

“So Mr. Seresin, or do you prefer Captain Seresin? When would be a good time to meet and go over scheduling the team physicals? I know we’re in the off-season right now but I want to get all the routine procedures done as soon as possible and adjust training as needed based on that.” He chuckles and it puts you at ease instantly.

“Just Jake is fine, ma’am. You’re the one in charge here, remember? As for the physicals, I agree that we should get those out of the way first and foremost. Scheduling that is up to our trainers, however, not me.”

“No, right of course, but as Captain would you be willing to go first to kind of show a united front? If I’m going to properly and efficiently take care of your team, trust is key.” You almost miss the bob of his Adam’s apple as he hesitates.

“Sure thing, sign me up.”

“Seresin.” The door opens behind you as Mr. Simpson enters the board room. “And our new physician, good to see you made it.” You nod in acknowledgment. “Seresin we’re glad to have you here, you’re a last-minute catch, but that does mean we need to get you up to speed as soon as possible.”

“Of course, sir.” Jake’s back to his charismatic self for his manager, the troubled man you’d met just minutes ago gone. “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.” He pipes up as you make your way towards the door, your dismissal unspoken.

You turn back to give him a smile, “Nice to meet you too, Jake.” You’ve barely made it halfway down the hallway when the door opens again and Mav is jogging after you, a shit-eating grin creeping across his face.

“So, what do you think?” He’s ecstatic.

“Mav,… I mean this with all the grace of a professional, but how the fuck did you manage to get Jake Seresin?” He laughs, loud and long before leaning in conspiratorially.

“We didn’t. He came to us.” You’re shell-shocked, to say the least.

You open and close your mouth without saying anything for a few seconds before you remember your last conversation. “Mav, about what I said to you earlier,” He grins. “I said that to you as a friend, not a coworker and I’d really appreciate it if you kept that to yourself, for the sake of my professionalism, please. Jake’s my coworker and patient, and anything else would affect his ability to trust me as his physician.” His eyes twinkle as he winks.

“Your secret is safe with me, kiddo. I appreciate your dedication to the job from the get-go. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you asked for his autograph, though.” You can’t fight the flush that creeps across your cheeks. He pats your back gently. “Don’t worry kiddo, any girl in the world would lose their head a bit if they had to work with that boy. I played with plenty of guys just like him in my day.”

“Mav, you were a guy like him in your day.” Mav laughs again as you reach your office.

“Good luck, kid. Break a leg!” He leaves with a wave and you sigh, pushing into the room.

The moment the door swings shut, you turn to press your forehead against the hardwood, letting out a breath you’ve been holding since you entered the board room. You’re fucked, totally completely, royally fucked. You’ve never struggled with professionalism in the workplace. Your entire patient base was made up of multimillion-dollar athletes, any awkwardness due to this had been a hurdle you’d long since crossed. But this? This wasn’t just close to home in the way that you were a fan of the sport your patient played, you were a fan of the player period.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin had had a successful enough career long before he came to play for the Dallas Stars but it was during his first season with them that he first caught your eye. Sure, every girl who knew anything about hockey salivated over the Ken doll on skates but that wasn’t what had drawn you to him. You’d been a hockey fan long enough to know that there were plenty of pretty faces on the ice and sooner or later his dazzling smile would be short a few perfect teeth. Plus, they weren’t there to be pretty, they were there because they could play, and damn if Jake wasn’t the whole package because he was a monster on the ice. He hadn’t earned the nickname “Hangman” for nothing.

It was Dallas vs. Anaheim and Anaheim had the game in the bag, or so you thought. It was the third period, the score was 6-2 in favor of Anaheim. Dallas had managed to take a single point each period, saving themselves from a total wipeout but a four-point difference with nine minutes left in the game had most people switching channels, safe with the knowledge that the match was decided. Then Dallas made a game-changing switch, they switched their centre, just their centre. You’d written it off the same way as everyone else, as a last-ditch effort by Dallas to change the flow of the game in any way they could, but it was anything but.

The moment Jake Seresin hit the ice, the energy in the entire arena shifted, as if they knew what was coming somehow. That was the thing about Jake Seresin you learned that day, he played every second he was on the ice like it was the last second of a tied game. He was a game maker. In the next nine minutes, not only did Dallas tie the score, making up the four points that they trailed, but they sunk a final, victory point with three seconds left on the clock. Of those five points, only two were scored directly by Jake, including the final one, but it was a unanimous opinion that Jake was the reason behind the win. He knew how to move a puck, he knew how to support his teammates while finding shots through a jungle of defense like an octopus in a wall of rock. You weren’t sure if you breathed at all during those nine minutes, and when it was finally over, you’d sat back, too stunned to speak, eyes wide and mouth parted.

You’d been brought back to earth by your dad’s laugh from next to you as he gave you a wry smile, “And that’s the moment you’ll fall in love with hockey.” It was something he’d told you once when you asked how he’d come to love the sport as much as he did, a love he’d passed down to you. For him it was an Anaheim game that he was passively watching in a hotel room, half asleep and channel surfing, looking for something to lull him to sleep. For you, you’d always thought you loved hockey, you’d been watching Anaheim games with your dad for as long as you could remember, but it wasn’t until that night that you saw Jake Seresin play for the first time that you realized that while you loved hockey, you couldn’t have been in love with hockey because nothing had ever felt like this.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by a firm rapping on the door you’re still leaning your forehead against. You straighten with a soft groan before opening the door to reveal an unfamiliar woman on the other side. Compared to your forest green scrubs and white coat, she’s a vision in a powder pink suit, her hair pulled into a no-nonsense bun at the base of her neck, and a pair thick of black glasses propped on her head. She extends a perfectly manicured hand to you, her other one occupied with a pink leather folio that matches her suit and nails, introducing herself. “Everyone here calls me Zamboni, though, or just Zam.”

“Can… can I ask why?” You’re a little intimidated by her, the color pink has never made you feel mildly terrified before but there’s a first time for everything.

She laughs at that, a rich, real sound. “I got it at my first unofficial gig, they said it was because I smooth things over, just like a Zamboni smoothes the ice.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “College guys think they’re so funny, but the name stuck.” She shrugs. “I like to think it’s because I’m good at my job. I’m the PR rep for the team. Don’t worry, you’ll get your own nickname soon enough working in this industry. No one goes by their actual name.” She grins.

“It’s nice to meet you Zam.” You weigh your options quickly before deciding to dive right in. “Actually, I have a question I was hoping you could answer.” Zam raises an eyebrow at the way your voice drops but nods to encourage you to continue. “What’s Jake Seresin doing here?” Both eyebrows are raised now. She lets out a defeated huff, crossing her arms over her chest in frustration.

“You know, I pride myself on knowing every aspect of my job inside out, and that includes my players, but that’s one question that even I don’t have the answer to, and not for lack of trying. All I know is that Seresin reached out to Beau two nights ago and showed up here this morning. No private plane, no nothing, the man took a commercial red eye. It does make you wonder, what exactly had him running like hell to get out of Dallas, but as far as concrete answers go, I’m all out.” She frowns. “Any particular reason why you ask? Do you know something?”

You shake your head, disappointedly. “Nope, but I watch enough hockey on my own time to know he could be anywhere and why he’s here makes little to no sense. I know he and Machado are friends but that doesn’t seem like enough to pass up re-signing to Dallas, and definitely doesn’t explain why he decided to move in less than 48 hours.”

“Just one of life’s mysteries.” An unfamiliar voice interrupts. You both turn to see another woman approach. “I’m Natasha Trace, the head equipment manager, but you can call me Nat.” You shake her outstretched hand as you look over the dark-haired woman. She has a strong grip and you feel the barely there brush of calluses on her hand as if they’ve long faded but stubbornly remained in some places. “If it helps, Javy didn’t know he was coming here either, he’s just as surprised as the rest of us.” Her eyes darken sadly. “Honestly, he’s more pissed than excited right now.”

“Are you two close?” You ask and she’s smiling again.

“Yeah, we went to high school together. He’s actually the reason I have this job, he recommended it to me.”

“And by proxy you know Jake, then?” She shrugs nonchalantly.

“He’s Javy’s best friend, but honestly we don’t see enough of each other to really say I know Jake. Most of what I know about him is what I hear from Javy. I could count on one hand the number of times we’d met before this.” She claps her hands, signaling the end of the conversation. “As much as I enjoy gossiping like old hens with both of you, I did actually come here for a reason. Mav wants to introduce you to the rest of the team so you can start getting into their physicals.” With that, Zam is back in professional mode, straightening from where she’s been leaning on the doorframe to follow the two of you as you do your best to memorize the route Natasha is taking. When you enter the rink, the boys are mid-practice, zipping around on the ice while Maverick watches from the sidelines, taking notes. He turns at the click of Zam’s heels as your group approaches.

“Ladies, welcome! Kiddo, glad to see you’re getting assimilated!” He turns back to the ice, blowing his whistle to signal the guys over to the bench. Your nose is hit with the familiar smell of sweaty athletes as they collect on the ice in front of Mav, removing their helmets and shaking out their name hair. A few swing over the boards to take a seat on the bench, grabbing water bottles as slowly all eyes come to rest on you. You glance over the group, clocking familiar faces. Javy Machado, a right defenseman here from the San Jose Sharks and Jake Seresin’s former teammate on the Arizona Coyotes. Left defenseman, Bradley Bradshaw, the oldest player on the team, from the Philadelphia Flyers. The wingers, Reuben Fitch and Mickey Garcia from the New Jersey Devils. Rookie goalie Bob Floyd, whose acquisition has been turning a lot of heads. And of course, Jake Seresin, former captain and centre for the Dallas Stars.

Mav claps a hand on your shoulder. “Gentlemen, this is our new team physician. I’m gonna let her take the floor.” He steps back at that to linger with Natasha and Zam as twenty pairs of eyes focus on you.

You introduce yourself and put on your best smile as the boys chorus back their own greetings. “My first order of business is going to be scheduling your physicals. I want to get as much of the basics out of the way early so we can catch any hidden injuries or undiagnosed conditions as soon as possible so that we can adjust anything we need to have you ready and fighting fit when the season starts in two months.” You almost miss the way Jake shifts uncomfortably at your mention of hidden injuries and undiagnosed conditions and you store away that tidbit for later. “I look forward to working with all of you this season and I want you to know that my priority is your health and safety, and if we want to make the best of our relationship then we need to trust each other so I hope I can earn your trust.” You make eye contact with Jake as you say this. His eyes are back to the stormy seas from this morning and you hope he can trust you enough to tell you what’s really going on so you can help.

Just as you’re about to wrap up you remember something. “One last thing! I want to clearly emphasize that this physical will not, and I repeat, will not include any reason for you to be naked. I’m a licensed general physician but this physical doesn’t involve checking your testicles or your prostate unless a specific condition makes it necessary. So please, please keep your underwear on for both our benefit. I don’t want to see any dicks in my exam room, am I clear?” A chorus of laughs and yes ma’am’s bounce off the walls. When you turn to excuse yourself, Mav is grinning too. You decide to get this out ahead of time. “Mav, we need to discuss a good time for me to start the physicals.”

He nods before shrugging. “We’re done here for a bit so If you’re free to start now, you can start taking them one by one.” You nod, turning back to the boys on the ice who are slowly trudging off the ice at his words. “Captain, you’re up.”

Jake stiffens before his mask is back on. “Sure thing, ma’am, I’ll be right there as soon as I hit the showers.” You nod in return and head back to your office to prepare yourself. This is about to be a lesson in professionalism.

A/N: Hee hee you’ll have to wait until next chapter to see the physical. Can I just say I absolutely love the girl squad??? To everyone who saw Zam’s intro last night and probably went wtf??? now you know why she’s called that lol. She’s so much fun to write and I can’t wait to write her story. I can’t say much but between Zam and Mav, Beau Simpson deserves a vacation loool. And again thank you to everyone who has been showing this series love! I love y’all so much! ❤️

#snitches get stitches // sdd #top gun maverick #top gun maverick hockey au #tgm #tgm hockey au #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x reader #hangman x you #no use of y/n #san diego dogfighters au #San Diego Dogfighters #San Diego Dogfighters hockey AU

[trickphotography2]

First and Goal

Hangman hosts a college football day for the Daggers, only to have Payback bring a history making Angel. (Hangman x female Reader fluff, no use of 'you')

Completely self-indulgant college football fic after seeing Glen and Danny at the Texas and Miami games last week. Fic contains some trash talking of Miami and Alabama. No physical description of the reader, callsign is Syla (pronounced like Cilla) and she's a Florida State fan.

Word count: 1.5K

-------------------------------------------------------

Jake tore his eyes away from the television when the doorbell rang, huffing as the Game Day announcers stalled on making their prediction of who would win the Texas vs. Alabama game. Phoenix pushed away from the kitchen island where she and Coyote were grazing on the snacks he’d set out. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” he grumbled as two hosts picked Bama. Planting his hands on his hips, he pressed his lips into a thin line when Lee Corso called for the fight song to play, and the twang of Sweet Home Alabama started.

“Roll Tide, I guess,” came a sigh beside him. Jake’s gaze snapped to the woman, taking in her crimson shirt, Navy regulation bun, and furrowed brow as she watched the antics. 

“Hey, hey, hey! Oh no, wait a minute, wait a minute. That’s not the right song - play Texas’ song!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist as Corso put on the Hook’em head. 

“Thank Christ.”  

“Not rooting for your team?” he asked, facing her. She rolled her eyes, pointing towards the logo on her chest - a Seminole head.

“Might wanna get your eyes checked - garnet, not crimson.” A slight southern accent colored her words. “While I appreciate Bama for making Tim Tebow cry, their fans are insufferable. I’m ready for them to get taken down a peg. If the Longhorns are the ones to do it, I guess I’ll put up with more of the Gig ‘em nonsense.”

“Hook ‘em,” Jake corrected, and the smirk curving her lips made him think she knew exactly what she was doing. 

“Giving Hangman shit already, Syla?” Payback asked, tossing an arm over the woman’s shoulder. The woman grinned up at the pilot and raised an eyebrow. 

“I have no idea what you mean,” she laughed. Jake felt a shot of disappointment at the fond look that passed between the two. “But if you’re Hangman,” she added, turning her attention back towards Jake, “this is for you. Thanks for letting me crash.” She extended a bottle towards him - Wolcott bourbon, bottled in the bond.

“Thanks. Syla your name or callsign?” 

“Callsign.”

“You stationed here?”

“Soon, but I’m in town for the show.” 

“The…” he frowned, then nodded. “You’re a Blue Angel?”

“That I am.” The Blue Angels were the Navy’s flight demonstration team. Stationed at NAS Pensacola, they were the most high-profile squad that toured across the US. It’d made the news that they finally had their first female aviator on the team two years ago. “At least until the end of the tour, then I’m headed back to TOPGUN.”

“Oh, come on,” Fanboy grumbled, watching as the University of Miami quarterback was sacked. Across the kitchen, Syla pumped her fist and silently cheered while nursing her water bottle. Jake smirked into his beer. Fanboy and Syla had exchanged some good-natured shit-talking since Florida State and Miami were in the same conference and would be playing against one another later in the season. 

When she’d shared the story behind her callsign - Syla, short for See Ya Later Alligator - Fanboy had gone red in the face laughing as Jake chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asked. 

Heaving a sigh, Syla explained, “My team is FSU Seminoles. We hate the Florida Gators, and there was a Gators fan in FRS with me. Our COs got tired of us shit-talking the whole season and decided to punish us by making our callsigns have to do with our rivalry. So I’m Syla, and he’s Renegade after our mascot.” 

“At least it’s not Swamp,” Jake offered, thinking of how Gainesville, where the University of Florida was located, was nicknamed ‘The Swamp.’

“Yeah, that cost me 150 pushups.” 

“Run, run, run, run, run!” Syla screamed, jumping off the couch with Jake beside her. 

“Come on!” he yelled. When the player was tackled after a 40-yard run, he whooped and held a hand to Syla, who laughed and slapped his palm before leaning around him to high-five Fanboy. 

“Fuck. There’s three of them,” Phoenix grumbled. 

The afternoon passed into shouts of “He was wide fucking open!”, “No! Sit his ass down!”, “Where’s the damn flag?”, “Pass interference!” and “Find it! Find it!” During commercials, they quickly learned about one another - Syla was a Florida girl born and raised in Tallahassee. She’d graduated from FSU and attended as many games as possible during the last three years she’d been stationed in Pensacola. Touring with the Angels made it hard since she was on the road from March to November, but the constant travel was worth it to be the first female Blue Angel. She was looking forward to the stability of being an instructor at TOPGUN and not living out of her duffle bag.

Syla retrieved her uniform from Payback’s car at halftime and disappeared into the bathroom. “She’s nice,” Coyote told Payback as Jake stepped into his backyard. 

“She’s great. Pain in the ass perfectionist, but that’s what got her on the Angels.” 

“She’ll be a good trainer,” Phoenix added. “Have you seen that diamond maneuver they pull?” 

“So, how do you know each other?” Jake asked, glancing at Payback.

“We met in flight school and kept in touch from there.” 

“You guys…” Rooster cocked an eyebrow.

“Nooo,” Payback quickly replied, then shuddered. “She’s like a sister. A sister,” he repeated, pinning the other men with a stern, warning look.

A while later, the door opened, and Syla peeked out, her eyes meeting Jake’s. “They’re about to kick off.” 

“Be right in,” he smiled back. After collecting the empty beer bottles from his friends, he jogged back inside. Syla had swapped out her jean shorts and t-shirt for her dress white skirt, and white tank top. She declined another drink - she’d sipped a glass of bourbon earlier before switching to water, saying that she needed to be sharp for work later - but accepted a soda. 

The Daggers drifted in and out of the house, Payback sometimes joining them in the cheering squad, but Syla and Jake were glued to the game. When Texas threw a 39-yard touchdown to pull further ahead, Jake screamed and jumped around his living room, much to the amusement of his friends. Syla whooped and clapped, raising her hand for a high five. Their palms slapped, and his fingers curled around hers, giving a quick shake before collapsing beside her. His shoulders brushed against her as he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped and covering his mouth.

“We gotta head out soon if you’re gonna make the dinner,” Payback said as the game clock wound down. 

“Shit,” Syla groaned, glancing at her watch. Between plays, she quickly slipped on her blouse, lower lip between her teeth as she watched the action and did up the buttons. Jake couldn’t help but glance at her legs as she swayed beside him, their knees touching as she tucked in her shirt.

When the quarterback took a snap and dropped to his knee, Jake exploded off the couch, whooping as Texas won. Without thinking, his arms wrapped around a laughing Syla, lifting her off her feet as he celebrated his team beating the Crimson Tide on their home field.

“Syla, we really gotta go,” Payback said. 

“Fuck, okay, uh,” she said, stepping out of Jake’s reach and patting his shoulder. “Congrats on the win. It was nice meeting all of you. I’ll hopefully see you in a couple months if I don’t get reprimanded for being late for dinner with the top brass. Oh, and Fanboy - I’ll think of you when I’m in Doak for the game in November.”

Smirking, Fanboy held up his hands, his thumbs touching to make the Miami ‘U’ signal. She gave him a saccharine smile and did the same; all her fingers were down except her middle ones, so she flipped him off. “I’ll walk you out,” Jake offered, grabbing Syla’s bag from the dining room table. Payback narrowed his eyes at the other man. “It sucks you can’t watch your team play tonight.” 

“It’s fine,” she shrugged, “we played our hard game against LSU last week, and it’s an easy match-up this week. I’ll just duck into the bathroom and check the score every once in a while.” 

“What time do you fly tomorrow?”

“Gates open at 0800, and we’re the closer at 1520. Why, gonna come to the show, Hangman?”

“You never know,” he winked. “Heard the Angels do a pretty impressive diamond formation.” 

“18-inch clearance, wingtip to canopy,” she smirked. “If you come, I’ll be in the blue and yellow flight suit.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” Chuckling, she took her bag, their fingers brushing and sending a pleasant tingling sensation up his spine. “Good to meet you, Syla.”

“You too, Hangman.” 

Payback paused beside Jake when she walked away and hissed, “No.”

---------------------------------------------------

Notes: The Blue Angels are based out of Pensacola and just welcomed their first female pilot in 2023 - callsign Stalin. I miss seeing them buzz the beaches and hear them practice in the afternoons. They tour the US and Canada, and the clips I've seen are phenomenal. If you haven't seen the pilot perspective of the tight diamond formation, I highly recommend it.

The 0800 and 1520 are military time, so it's 1520 is 3:20PM.

Read part 2, Overtime.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #Jake Seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader

[rose-pearls]

You're losing me - Part 2

This is a part 2 to this fic! So happy that some of you liked it and I hope you enjoy reading this second part!

‘Hi leave a message after the beep, I’ll make sure to call you later!’

‘It’s Jake. I know you probably blocked my number or something but I-’, a sob can be heard on the other end of the line. ‘I just need to talk to you, please. I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry for what I did, you need to know that. You-you were in my life for just a few weeks and yet you flipped it upside down.’, the voice quivers for a moment and they release a deep sigh. ‘Every time I see kittens I think of you, every time I see a golden retriever I think of you, hell I even think of you when I see a jet taking off. I can’t get you out of my mind, it feels like I lost a part of me that night.’, shaky breaths are taken, and another sob can be heard. ‘I killed someone.’, the voice whispers barely audible. ‘Everyone was congratulating me, but I feel sick, I’m hiding in the storage closet hoping to stop seeing him appear in front of me. The only thing I can think about is when you were there for me that night and I guess I need you back with me, please call me.’, a long silence follows, shaky breaths taken before shaky words are whispered. ‘I wanted to tell you this in person but I-’

‘This message has reached his length limit. Please call the person back or end this call.’

--

You didn’t know how to feel, coming back to Top Gun after everything that happened but it wasn’t like you had a choice. Your Captain had quietly told you to take your things and join the secret mission, he had a somber look when telling you that, but you tried to ignore it.

The Hard Deck was still there two years later, and it seemed to still be as crowded as you looked from your car. Before you finally convinced yourself to enter the bar you saw a blue bronco stop next to yours and a man with a moustache getting out, walking towards the bar. You couldn’t help but snort at his Hawaiian shirt and moustache. 

After a small pep talk you convinced yourself to get out and in the Hard Deck, who knew maybe he wasn’t there. You knew that you were kidding yourself, even Steph had been called back, they were apparently calling back the best or the best. That was the only information she had been able to get out of her dad. 

The bar is loud, but you can’t hear it over your heartbeat, beating loudly in your ears and even though you take a look across the room you manage to not see your father who is looking like he has seen a ghost.

“Fire?!”, the callsign makes you look towards the pool table, and you see Phoenix in the distance looking at you with wide eyes and a bright smile.

“This must be an important mission if you’re here.”, she says and you smile in answer, bringing her into a hug.

“Good to see you too Nat.”, she smiles, and you turn around to find a group of pilots looking at you but there is one that get your attention even after two years.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.

He looks good, even after two years he still manages to take your breath away and make butterflies fly in your stomach, but you push them down, remembering yourself of what happened. He looks slightly taken aback and is looking at you with sad green eyes, but you ignore them, looking away.

“So, does anyone have any information?”, you try to say without your voice shaking and by some small miracle you manage.

“Not more than you do.”, the man with the moustache tells you and you look at him curiously.

“Right, you probably haven’t some of the people here before.”, Phoenix says before starting to make a tour of the room.

“And that is Bob, my new WSO!”, she says, and you smile at the shy man, he smiles back, and you know that he is probably going to be quite the competition. 

“I think we’ve met before?”, you can’t help but ask Bob and he nods after a moment.

“Deployment in Nebraska.”, you think about it before smiling at the memory.

“That’s right! Cain was something.”, you say trying not to grimace but Bob chuckles and nods in agreement.

“Glad to be away from that!”, before you can say anything else you hear the music stop suddenly and see Rooster at the piano.

“Does he do that often?”, you ask Phoenix, and she lets out a sigh.

“Unfortunately, yes, but he has the talent for it.”, she shrugs her shoulders before joining the rest, but you just shake your head in amusement and leave towards the patio outside. 

Someone gets thrown outside and you can’t help but smile at Penny’s rules, that woman had always fascinated you. You hear footsteps behind you, and you assume it’s Steph that has finally arrived, but you turn around to see Jake. He looks unsure, it’s a far different look from the one he had in there a minute ago, looking so cocky and arrogant. He looks so much younger when he looks at you with those sad green eyes, shoulders hunched like he is trying to hide himself. 

“Hangman.”, you say after a long silence of looking at each other, unable to say his name.

“Fire.”, there is a silence that follows before Jake takes a deep breath.

“You look good.”, he says, and you smile sadly at him.

“I’m good, better than last time we saw each other.”, you whisper but Jake seems to have heard it as he flinches slightly at the words. 

“I was hoping we could talk?”, he asks so quietly that you nearly didn’t hear him, but you do and you feel your heart beating faster but the hurt that comes up takes over.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”, he nods, looking dejected at the floor. 

“I – I just can’t do this again.”, you whisper, and he nods in answer, still looking at the floor his hands in his pockets. 

“I understand.”, he croaks out and a pained smile appears, making your heart clench painfully.

He leaves and you try not to call him back, because as much as you tried to tell yourself you didn’t care anymore you still did. 

--

Warlock is giving his speech and you try to listen, but you are too busy trying to fight the feelings that are coming back up at the sight of Jake in his flight suit, flashbacks of soft kisses and giggles in the corners of the hallway making you grip your pen tighter.

“Captain Pete Mitchell, callsign Maverick.”, this makes you look up, feeling like someone has thrown an ice bucket over you and you silently pray it’s a joke. 

Rooster tenses up next to you and you look at him, he looks back at you and you start to think that you aren’t the only one who didn’t expect this. 

Your supposed father arrives in front of the class and smiles at all of you, his smile faltering slightly when it comes to you and Rooster. Jake is looking at you with worried eyes, the only one next to Steph to know your lack of relationship with the captain or your genitor. 

As he throws the manual into the bin you can’t help but jump slightly, and as he tells you to suit up you take a moment to collect yourself. 

“Fire.”, Jake’s voice stops you into the hallway and you look at him questioningly. 

“I- are you okay?”, he asks softly, looking around to make sure no one can hear you.

“Of course, I am, why wouldn’t I be.”, you ask, trying to act like you don’t know what he is talking about, but you know that he can see right through you.

“It’s a lot, just know that I’m here.”, he says, looking hesitant at the end and you try not to let the hope blossoming in your chest getting the best of you.

“I’ll be alright but thank you.”, you say after a moment and turn around, getting in the locker-room to get into your gear. 

Rooster seems to be in a tense conversation with your father and you can’t help but quickly pass by them with curious eyes. You didn’t know what was happening there, but it seemed like Rooster was pissed at you father, maybe he was another one of his children that he didn’t reach out to. The thought makes you snort quietly but you put yourself back into the right headspace while looking at your aircraft. 

The first two teams are a mess, your father making a quick job of sending them back to the tarmac. Jake leaves Phoenix and Bob hanging, and you can’t help but shake your head at his antics. You would never understand why he did this, trying to be an asshole when he was far from it in reality. 

“Fire and Thunder your turn.”, Maverick says, and the rest wishes you good luck, passing Phoenix, Bob and Hangman on the tarmac still doing their pushups. 

“Do you see him?”, Thunder asks you and you try to look at your radar, hoping to find something but nothing. 

“Nope, the man is like a ghost.”, Thunder let’s out an irritated sigh and you look at her.

“It’s probably a trick, the only way we couldn’t see him on the radar is if he was below us or above us somewhere.”, you tell her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Well, I would prefer it if he didn’t make us waste our time with a trick and got to the dog fighting part.”, before you can respond an F-18 comes up between the two of you making you move.

“Holy shit!”, you hear Thunder say and Maverick chuckles in answer.

“Your wish is my command, Thunder.”, you have just the time to see Thunder’s determined gaze to know that it’s on.

The two of you try to escape him but the old man seems to still have some tricks up his sleeves.

“We need to find a way to get him off our back.”, she tells you and you nod in response, once again avoiding him by a second.

“Let’s do the cat and mouse game.”, she nods in answer before putting herself into a weak position, Maverick seems to fall for the trick and as he puts himself in position to finish her off you fly by blocking his lock and throwing him off just in time for Thunder to pull back and get behind him. 

“Shit.”, you hear him whisper and you can’t help but chuckle as Thunder manages to get tone on him.

“Maverick down.”, you say through the comm, Thunder smirking at you before going back to the carrier. 

The others are looking at you with equal looks of awe and horror at what you achieved. Maverick arrives a bit after you, looking frustrated.

“Good job Lieutenant, although that was a risky move. If it had been just a second later it could have been dangerous.”, Thunder smirks at him, confidence radiating off her and she just shrugs her shoulders.

“We have been doing this since the academy sir, we knew what we were doing.”, Maverick doesn’t seem pleased but lets the conversation slide. The rest leaves and you turn to do the same thing, but Maverick stops you.

“Could we talk?”, you nod after a moment, wondering what the hell he wanted to talk about.

“You are probably wondering why I asked to talk.”, he says, looking nervous and you nod in answer.

“I – it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other and I was wondering if everything was good between us?”, this makes you snort in answer before looking at him like he was crazy.

“A long time? You stopped reaching out after my fifth birthday and now you are asking if everything is good?”, Maverick looks at the ground ashamed, but you shake your head in disbelief.

“I know, I wasn’t really a good father, and I don’t have an excuse for it, just that there was a lot going on and I had to take care of Bradley.”, you scoff in answer at his excuse.

“You weren’t a father at all. Look, I’m 25 years old now, I don’t need a father. Went my whole life without one, don’t need one now. So why don’t we go back to how it was and let all of this go?”, Maverick looks at you with guilt and sadness in his eyes.

“If that’s what you want.”, he whispers, looking dejected but you try to calm yourself down, knowing that you would say something you would regret.

“I will see you tomorrow then, sir.”, you leave the office and run into a hard chest, green eyes looking back at you, and you are unable to stop the frustrated sigh leaving your lips.

“Are you okay?”, he asks softly.

“I am fine! Alright, just leave me alone Jake, we aren’t together anymore so stop acting like you care.”, you tell him harshly and he flinches, but you leave, feeling the anger and frustration of the talk with your father. Not seeing the heartbroken pilot that you leave behind. 

--

The days go by and every moment in training is rough, but you manage to get through it, Jake keeps his distance like you asked and it feels like a relief but at the same time it’s painful. 

His outburst against Rooster makes you look at him in another light, but even as you try to be disgusted by him you can’t help but think he did it on purpose, to push Rooster off that perch. 

The only thing Maverick manages to find as a solution is a day at the beach, Thunder grumbles that you all have other things to do but you just shrug your shoulders, thinking that maybe it would do you all some good. 

Everyone is already there and as you arrive you see a shirtless Jake. Now you weren’t blind, and that man was sculpted like a Greek god. There was already some sweat on his chest and it made his skin glisten in the sun making feel lightheaded at the sight of it. You try to stop looking but Jake catches you looking, and a confident smirk appears. 

The dog fighting football is a mess, but you haven’t had this much fun in years. Running behind each other and trying to make the others fall, while stealing the ball. At one point you think you are going to be doing a touchdown, but someone makes you stumble, and you fall backwards, just caught in time by a smirking Jake.

“Don’t worry, your savior is here.”, you are ready to say something sarcastic in return, but he just puts you back on your feet before taking the ball out of your hands and running away making you look with wide eyes.

“Seresin! You dick!”, everyone starts laughing and you hear Jake’s distinctive laugh, making you feel warm. 

“Shouldn’t have gotten distracted.”, he whispers in your ears, and you feel yourself shiver in answer, the smell of his aftershave making your head spin. 

The rest of the game is chaotic, and Jake doesn’t stop teasing you, trying to get a reaction out of you. 

Frankly Thunder can’t blame you for dragging that cocky pilot to a secluded place and bringing him into a heated kiss. The adrenaline of the last days, the fact that he had been touching you all day long was making you go back in time, and you just needed him. Jake certainly didn’t complain as he immediately kissed back, just as passionately, his hands roaming over your whole body. You stay like that until the two of you have to come back for air and Jake is looking at you with eyes filled with lust and something like love.

“Fuck sweetheart, if I had known that this was the way to get you near me, I would’ve gotten my shirt of sooner.”, he says with a smirk and you are ready to tell him to fuck off before he starts kissing you down your neck, biting softly into the sensitive skin and you try to hold back your moan.

“Jake, we can’t do this here.”, you whisper and he groans, still dropping kisses everywhere he can, and you card your fingers through his hair, pulling on it to make him look at you.

You both look at each other for a moment, your breaths uneven and for a moment you feel unsure.

“Is this a good idea?”, you can’t help but whisper and Jake smiles at you softly.

“Probably not but god I can’t spend another moment without you.”, he tells you and you feel breathless at the words.

“We need to talk afterwards.”, he nods, this time his eyes serious and you nod slowly. 

“Good. Now one more thing, I-I haven’t done the deed before.”, you say, grimacing as you tell him that, but Jake has the opposite reaction that thought he would have. His eyes roam over your body before taking your hips and pulling you fully against him, making you gasp.

“You don’t know how much this drives me crazy.”, he says before bringing you into a heated kiss. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good sweetheart, so good you will never want anything with anyone else.”, you can only moan in response as he starts kissing your neck again and this time you let yourself completely go. 

--

The sunlight is what wakes you up, strong arms around you and you feel a soft kiss on your shoulder. 

“We have an hour until we have to be on base. Thought we could talk.”, Jake says softly, and you turn around to see him looking at you with a tender smile. 

“Good thinking.”, you say softly but you don’t know what to say.

“I know last night wasn’t supposed to happen, or at least not in your mind.”, this makes you nod and Jake sighs.

“I’m sorry for everything I did two years ago. I was an idiot and although I can’t take back what I did I don’t think I would take it back.”, this makes you look at him curiously. 

“Because otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten to know you like I did.”, the words are raw, honesty in his eyes and you feel breathless.

“Jake-”

“I know, alright, I know. You got hurt and you probably wouldn’t trust me again but I just – I don’t think I can live without you, and I don’t want to try to continue living without you any longer.”, he tells you and you take his hand in yours.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t show you then just how much you meant to me and I’m sorry I didn’t ran after you and fell on my knees to beg you for forgiveness.”, you can’t help but smile at his words. 

“You know I thought that I hated you.”, Jake flinches at the words and you squeeze his hand.

“But I guess hating you was just easier then really thinking about how I was feeling. I realized a few months later that I didn’t regret us, even when it ended the way it did. We had some good times, didn’t we?”, Jake nods in answer tears in his eyes mirroring yours.

“I think that even through all of the hurt I never stopped loving you.”, you whisper, and Jake looks at you with wide eyes, before tears roll down his cheeks. You lift up your other hand to brush them away softly.

“I love you so much, you have no idea how much.”, he whispers, and an emotional smile appears at the words.

“I think I do.”, you whisper, brushing a strand of hair back and he closes his eyes, enjoying the touch.

He opens his eyes after a moment and just looks at you before putting his forehead against yours and taking you into his arms.

There are still things to talk about, and there is a far too dangerous mission ahead of you but as Jake holds you close in the early morning you feel more at home then you have been in years. 

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

[thedroneranger]

Doggone It

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake convinces Mrs. Seresin she needs a furry companion.

Note: I needed a serotonin hit, and dogs make me happy. This piece is an imagine in the To-Do List collection.

Warnings: So fluffy you might die, disabled dogs, inaccuracies around how military working dog adoptions work

Word count: 1.1k

Jake was nervous. Although he thought he was hiding it well, he wasn’t. She knew. She always knew. No one read Jake better than she could. Of course, he found it particularly annoying. Especially if he were planning any sort of surprise.

Pretending to be none the wiser, she sipped her latte and hummed along to the music. The wind siphoning through the cracked passenger window, streaming through her hair felt wonderful. Sun was hitting her face as she stared through her aviators at the passing scenery.

All of Jake’s tells were on display: thumbs thrumming on the steering wheel, knee jumping nervously and he wasn’t serenading her to their shared playlist, but instead mumbling to himself under his breath. 

Finally, he broke the low lull of the music. “We’re headed to base.”

“I know.” She turned from the window to look at him as he shot her a quick glance before putting his eyes back on the road. She continued to watch his profile, waiting for him to elaborate further. 

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding left his body. “We have an appointment,” he added. His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth for a second.

“An appointment?” She prodded, taking another sip of her latte.

“Yes, an appointment. You’ll see when we get there,” Jake finished. Her mind raced as she tried to imagine what would require both their presence on base. Her ID card wasn’t up for renewal. Her vehicle tags were up to date.

Once the truck was parked, Jake came around to the front of the vehicle, hand ready for her to take. They exchanged smiles as their fingers interlaced. Inside the building, nothing appeared familiar as they strode past sterile doors, and the overhead lights glimmered off the well-waxed beige tile.

At the end of the nondescript hallway, Jake pushed open one of the double doors to reveal a gymnasium dotted with dogs and handlers. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “You cannot be serious, Jake!” She turned to look at him. 

His expression was guilty yet hopeful. “Serious as a heart attack, sweetheart. We’re here to see which dogs are matches for us.” Her mouth hung open for a few seconds but nothing came out.

For months, she and Jake had been going back and forth about getting a dog. Given the uptick in the duration and frequency of his deployments and tours, he wanted her to have a protective companion around when he wasn’t. Plus, he couldn’t always rely on his friends—their assignments were as sporadic as his.

First, Jake looked at breeders, thinking a purebred puppy would be perfect. Although the idea of a pudgy puppy cuddled in her lap with velvet fur, premature wrinkles and unmistakable breath made her melt, she knew they had to adopt. So Jake changed his attack, sending her adoption events from rescues throughout the county. 

One day, he was on his way to the mess hall for lunch when a flier on the hallway bulletin board caught his eye. A smile curled his lips as he read the details for an upcoming military working dog adoption event.

He captured the information through the posted QR code and continued on to the lunch room. His squadron buddies ribbed him while he filled out the digital forms to ensure they got on the list as soon as possible. 

Jake remembered the day he got the approval email. He’d been incessantly checking. It also took all his willpower not to tell her. So often she did things for him that he really wanted to do this for her.

“Lieutenant Seresin? Mrs. Seresin?” A woman dressed in fatigues addressed them with a warm smile. They nodded in unison and each shook her hand. After introducing herself, she offered them beverages and then took the pair to a small sitting area. Then, she walked through how their application was vetted and they were matched.

“You’re perfect candidates for any of the dogs here,” the woman commended them. They exchanged affectionate looks as Jake slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it. “But there’s a specific dog we think is the best fit for you. Would you like to meet him?”

Jake was out of his chair before the word “yes” left his lips. The soldier smiled at his giddiness and waited for her to also stand. Once all three of them were on their feet, she guided them around the perimeter of the room until they reached another soldier, standing with a brindle Belgian Malinois. “Say hello to Ruck.” She motioned toward the dog. 

Jake listened so well to her list of must-haves that they were here, standing in front of a retired military dog in need of a home. She looked at Jake with a genuine smile. He thought his heart might stop. She looked so happy, which made him so happy. 

“May I?” She looked at the handler for permission to pet the dog.

“Please!” He looked at Ruck, giving a wordless command. Looking back at her, the handler offered a couple pointers for a successful first impression. Jake listened but watched his wife as she absorbed everything. 

Once briefed, she knelt to Ruck’s level and presented the back of her hand to him. Curiously, he nosed it, eventually nuzzling her palm. She smiled as she began to scratch his jaw, and then eventually behind his ears.

While Ruck warmed up to her, they learned he was a six-year-old that had served two tours in the Middle East and has been to almost all 50 states. The timing could not have been more perfect. As the handler finished with Ruck’s list of accolades, the dog excitedly popped up, rushing forward into her arms, revealing he was short a hindleg. 

Both she and Jake couldn’t help but smile, and the soldiers sighed in deep relief. Usually a hard sell, the pair was unfazed.

Heck, Jake felt his heart melt a little more. 

After a couple hours of socialization, Jake managed to convince the program manager to give a special release so Ruck could leave with them. Usually, they coordinated a home drop-off later, but Ruck had really taken to them. 

While they were outside, practicing commands and playing fetch, the handler came toward her only to be warned by Ruck not to come any closer. A smile crept across her face as she looked at the dog and rewarded him with a pat on the head. The handler and program manager were just as pleased.

On the ride home, Jake had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road as she and Ruck sat in the backseat. Ruck laid across the seat with his head in her lap as she stroked between his ears.

She caught Jake staring at her in the rearview mirror and pouted her lips in his direction. He cocked his cheek as though her kiss landed there and winked at her. 

Jake’s heart was so full, he thought he might burst.

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[inmyglenpowellera]

Bad Reputation Part 1 | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Taylor Swift inspired!OC

Request: Requested by @akornsworld

Word Count: 3457 words

Summary: There's that saying for some people, “You can't go home again.” When you grow up and leave, that's it, you don't go back home. Presley Joann Benjamin (stage name Presley Jo) believed that was the case for her. Never did she think she would be right back where she started. But her Aunt insisted it was the best for her. She thought for sure her life and career were over until she meets a certain cocky aviator.

Warnings: Alcohol use, angst if you squint, maybe some cursing, fluff, some depression if you squint

A/N: This will be a multipart imagine. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet.

She made it. She was one of the biggest singer/songwriters this generation has ever known. She was a hit pop sensation. She went on tour, her more recent ones going international. She won many awards: Grammy's, Billboard, MTV Awards, VMA's. She had many other accomplishments she was proud of and didn't think she would even come close to experiencing what she had. Things were going great… until they weren't.

Things started to go downhill, and they went downhill fast. Her reputation was ruined. All because she refused to be used and abused in Hollywood. Everything started to fall apart. The cancel culture started to come for her. She was completely lost on what to do. Which is why she disappeared from the public eye.

She didn't answer her phone for days. Her aunt began to lose her mind and flew from San Diego to New York to see if she was even alive. What she didn't expect was to walk into her niece's loft to find her lying in her bed in the dark. Tissues and multiple bottles of alcohol littering the bed and floor. Her aunt knew then and there she couldn't survive this dark period by herself. She forced her up out of bed, demanded she take a shower, and forced her to pack her bags to come home.

Home, the place she hasn't been in about 10 years. When she was still a bright-eyed 20-year-old dreamer. The place where she got her start while working part-time at her aunt's bar as a server. Where her now ex-asshole manager discovered her. Playing and singing her heart out on that old piano in the middle of the bar, entertaining the aviators currently stationed in the area, who she was sure said they “knew her when” when she finally started becoming known.

She can't stop staring at that old piano through her sunglasses from her bar stool.

“Why don't you go play something? The only person who ever touches it anymore is Bradley,” Penny said to her niece, cleaning out a beer glass before placing it with the others.

“No thank you,” Presley said quietly, adjusting her baseball cap on her head.

“Well, can you at least take the hat and glasses off? And look at me when I'm talking to you,” Penny requested, laying her rag on the counter.

Presley huffed and turned around on her bar stool. “I'll take my glasses off and look at you but I'm keeping the hat on.”

“Presley, nobody is here right now,” Penny argued, gesturing around the empty and currently closed bar.

“Exactly, right now. But you know as well as I do that this place will be packed in less than an hour and I really don’t feel like being mobbed considering the current state of my life,” I argued back with her.

“The current state of your life that you are going to get through and fix. You're a Benjamin, nothing can stop us,” She reassured me.

I sighed in response to her words and attempted to slam my forehead down onto the bartop. However, I let out a groan in pain when I just ended up hitting the bill of my ballcap off of it instead. I heard Penny sigh and heard the telltale sound of her walking around the bar and moving to sit on the barstool next to me. She began to run her hand through the ponytail sticking out of the back of my ballcap before speaking.

“Presley, I know what you are going through right now is hard and you may feel like your life is over. But that is so far from the truth. I brought you back here not just because you needed the support, but because you needed to get back in touch with your roots. You may not believe this, but sometimes going back to where it all started helps to see where it all went wrong,” She whispered to me.

I scoffed in reply and lifted my head up. “I know where it all went wrong.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But until then, I want you to at least try to live your life. Stop focusing on what happened and focus on what could be. Don’t worry about writing your next hit or whether you will be invited to the next award show.  Focus on spending time with me and Amelia and being normal.”

I stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start?”

She nodded at me gratefully before standing from the bar stool. “You can start by helping me open the bar. I know you know how to. Go to the stock room and grab what we need and then help me finish the glasses.”

I groaned in annoyance before standing from my chair and moving to do as she asked.

---------

The moment the first person walked into the bar I rushed to push my sunglasses back on my face and kept my head down and I have continued to do so since the bar opened about 30 minutes ago. The place has had people nonstop coming in and out. Aviators, soldiers, and civilians taking up the space around me. The once-quiet bar was slowly becoming louder as more people filtered in and the evening rush slowly began to take hold. 

A glass being placed in front of me caused me to look up briefly at the bartender standing there with a smile.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I smiled back at him.

“This stays between you and me. Your aunt told me not to serve you but I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt,” Jimmy told me, pointing his finger at me as if he was scolding me.

“Don’t worry. She won’t hear it from me,” I reassured him, reaching forward for the drink in front of me.

Jimmy gave me a thankful nod before moving to serve another person. I sighed and took a sip of my drink when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see another news article about me. I sighed and clicked on it, frowning at the words glaring back at me.

“Presley Jo: Where is the Princess? Has she run away to hide in her castle?”

“I’m not a princess,” I grumbled to myself, glaring at my phone as someone appeared next to me at the bar.

“Jimmy, I’ll have 6 more, and whatever the “not princess” is having,” a voice with a distinct southern accent spoke up from next to me.

I slightly raised my head and pocketed my phone, looking over at the person standing next to me through my sunglasses before looking over at Jimmy.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary, Jimmy,” I told the old man who nodded at me.

“Aw, c’mon darling. Let a nice man buy a beautiful woman a drink,” He argued with me in his accent, leaning on the bar sideways so he could look at me.

I let out a small giggle and shook my head, looking over at him and looking him over from top to bottom. Sandy blonde hair styled to perfection, bright green eyes shining in the lights of the bar, thin lips pressed into a smirk, and a khaki uniform that causes me to roll my eyes from behind my glasses and look forward. A gorgeous human being ruined by what he does for a living.

“Well howdy, John Wayne. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” I told him, grabbing the still half-full glass to take a sip.

“John Wayne,” The stranger questioned me in shock, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you prefer Eastwood,” I retorted, placing my glass back on the bar top.

I heard the aviator let out a noise that was a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle before he spoke up again.

“Well, that just hurts my feelings, sweetheart. It’s not every day I get made fun of for my accent,” He said in amusement.

“Well, I’m glad I could bring some excitement to your day,” I smiled at him sarcastically.

I heard a huff of amusement. “You know what would make it even more exciting.”

“No, but I feel like you’re going to tell me anyways, cowboy,” I said with disinterest.

“Your number.”

I scoffed in disbelief and began shaking my head with a grin. “Trust me, my number is the last thing you want buddy.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that,” He asked me curiously, leaning in closer to me.

“Because my reputation isn’t exactly the best right now… If you knew who I was you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me, I promise you that. So do yourself a favor and find someone else to court like the small-town country boy you are,” I informed him, pushing my sunglasses farther up my nose.

“Well, maybe you can give me a chance and I can prove you wrong,” He argued with me.

“Doubtful,” I muttered, taking a large gulp of my drink.

“Why don’t we start with a name? If you're so famous like you're making yourself out to be. Then I can tell you if I’ve heard anything and if I believe what I’ve heard,” He offered up.

“I am most definitely not giving you my name,” I denied immediately, shaking my head.

“Well, then how about you take off the sunglasses and the hat Hollywood? Then I can tell you if you look familiar,” He tried again.

“I am not doing that either,” I said with another shake of the head.

“You enjoy playing hard to get don’t you,” He asked me with a smirk.

“It’s not playing hard to get if there’s nothing to win,” I told him.

He stared at me in silence, causing me to look over at him. I could see a few different emotions swirling in his eyes. Admiration, desire, amusement, and what looked like affection.

“I’m Jake,” He said simply.

I stared at him for a second and nodded in response. “Cool.” 

This Jake person opened his mouth to speak again before being cut off. 

“Is Hangman bothering you, PJ,” Jimmy asked me sweetly, looking between the two of us.

“No, Jimmy. It’s fine,” I reassured the old man.

“Are you sure? Because I have no problem ringing the bell on him,” Jimmy told me, gesturing over his shoulder to my aunt's bell.

“As funny as that would be and as much as I would enjoy that, it’s not necessary,” I reassured him once again, picking my drink up and finishing it off.

Jimmy nodded at me and grabbed my now empty glass before walking away, but not without throwing a warning glare over his shoulder at this so-called “hangman.”

“So, now you know my name and my callsign. Are you still not willing to give yours up miss “PJ,” Jake questioned me.

“No, Hangman, I’m not,” I shrugged at him, beginning to stand from my barstool. “Hey Jimmy, Let Penny know I’m headed home,” I asked the old man, watching him nod at me before going about his work again.

“So you know Penny,” He asked me.

“Wow, nice deduction there Mr. Eastwood. That navy training is really doing you some good,” I said sarcastically, turning to head out the door.

“I’ll get your name eventually,” He called after me.

“Don’t bet on it, Lieutenant.”

---------

I groaned in pain at the sudden weight being thrown on top of me, a bright giggle slipping out of the person’s lips. I wrestled my hands out from underneath them and lifted them to grab the comforter covering my head. I pulled it down to see Amelia lying across me with her dog Theo running into the room and joining us in the bed.

“Amelia, why,” I groaned.

“Because mom told me to wake you up. She needs you to do something for her,” Amelia told me before hopping off the bed to leave the room, Theo following closely behind her.

I groaned tiredly before throwing my blanket off of me. I leaned over the side of the bed and gripped my sleep shorts that I had taken off before bed. I pulled them on before doing my morning routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face. I then ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a bun before making my way downstairs. I followed the noises I heard into the kitchen to see Aunt Penny running around trying to make breakfast for Amelia as my little cousin tried to finish up her homework at the last minute. I walked over to Amelia kissed her head and gave Theo a pat on the head, before taking a seat on the other barstool at the island.

“Morning,” I sighed out to Aunt Penny.

“Good morning. I have a few errands I need to do this morning. Is there any chance you can take Amelia to school and then go to the Hard Deck to get some of the opening duties done for me,” Aunt Penny asked me quickly, placing Amelia’s breakfast on top of her homework and causing the young girl to let out a groan of annoyance.

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded at her.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long and should be there at around 10. And Amelia knows the drop-off procedures,” She reassured me.

“Penny, it’s fine. I know what to do and I will get Amelia to school on time,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” she told me once again before gathering her things.

She walked around the island to place a kiss on Amelia’s head and one on my cheek before moving towards the door.

“I love you girls,” She called over her shoulder.

“Love you too,” We both called out to her.

---------

After an anxiety-ridden school drop-off and halfway through getting the bar ready for opening, Penny showed up with a thankful smile.

“Thank you,” She told me, pulling me into a hug.

“You’re welcome. I mopped, did stock, and washed the glasses. They just need to be dried and all of your paperwork needs to be done,” I explained to her, gesturing to all of the glasses sitting in drying racks.

“You are a lifesaver. How was drop off,” She asked me.

“Well, um, I have been through quite a few anxiety-inducing events in my life, but I think drop-off was the worst one to date,” I informed her with a grimace.

Penny winced at my words and nodded in agreement. “It can be bad.”

I nodded at her in agreement before moving to sit on the piano bench, my back facing the instrument to curb the need to play it. Penny looked between me and the instrument before speaking.

“Why don’t you play something while I finish up? I could use the entertainment,” She offered up, grabbing a rag to begin drying the glasses.

“No thank you,” I sighed, running my hands over my thighs to rid them of some of the sweat they built up.

“Presley, you can’t just give up music. I haven’t heard you so much as hum a note since you came home. And you've been here about two weeks now,” Penny scolded, placing her hands on her hips. “I used to have to pry you away from that piano. You couldn't stop writing and playing. You constantly had something new-”

“I’m not giving up music… and did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm just uninspired,” I interrupted her, looking at her sadly.

Penny frowned before placing her rag on the counter and leaning forward. “You're uninspired right now, but not forever. Something will bring your light back, I know it. For right now, how about you play some of your old stuff?”

I stared at her for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine. But I'm not singing. I'm just playing the piano.”

“That's fine with me,” She reassured me as I turned around and placed my hands on the black and white keys.

I began playing one of my songs gently and let myself get lost in the music. Meanwhile, Penny continued working behind me to prepare the bar for opening in a couple of hours. My one song turned into two, which turned into three. However, my playing stopped when I heard the front door open. I tensed up in my seat and looked over at Penny out of the corner of my eye. Penny dropped everything she was doing and immediately turned towards the person who entered the bar.

“Hangman, we don’t open for another few hours,” Penny called out to the person who walked further into the bar.

“It’s Friday, Penny. Dogfight football day. Just stopped in to get some beers for everybody before heading down to the beach,” Jake argued with her, walking over to the bar.

I could feel his eyes on me as he conversed with my aunt, causing me to turn my head slightly so he couldn’t see my face.

“Well, why don’t you head outside and I can bring them out to you,” Penny offered up.

“Nah, Pen, it’s fine. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to,” Jake denied her. I listen to Penny let out a sigh before moving around the bar and gathering what he asked for. “I know that song you were playing, darling. I believe it’s called Enchanted by-,” He cut himself off when I finally looked over at him.

“Presley Jo, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eastwood,” I stated, holding my hand out to him with a blank expression on my face.

“PJ,” He hummed, gripping my hand in his own with obvious shock on his face.

“Hm, I normally just go by Presley,” I hummed out with a shrug, staring up at him.

“Mhm, Penny my dear, do you understand who is sitting in your bar right now,” Jake said in disbelief.

“Of course I do. I raised her,” Penny shrugged at him simply.

Jake turned around and looked at her in shock. “You raised one of the biggest pop stars on the face of the earth and didn’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not exactly something I go telling everybody, Hangman, no matter how proud I am of my beautiful niece. Besides, Bradshaw and Maverick know.”

“Rooster knows? Maverick I understand, but Rooster,” He asked in disbelief.

“Bradley and I grew up together. Who do you think taught me piano,” I interrupted, drawing his eyes back towards me. Jake continued to stare at me in shock and awe, causing me to slightly squirm under his gaze. “So, you going to go tell everybody I’m here? Sell a story to the media?”

Jake shook his head at me before releasing a scoff. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s what everyone else does,” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“Well, Darling, I guess I’m not everyone else then,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock before speaking again. “You still want my number?”

“Hm… that, and I’d still like to buy you that drink,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock and disbelief before shaking my head at him. “You still want something to do with me after finding out who I am? Even with everything being said about me and me being canceled?”

Jake shrugged at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Not all your fans believe what’s being said about you.”

My gaze softened and I couldn’t stop myself from staring into his bright green eyes. He held my gaze for a few moments before Penny cleared her throat.

“Hangman, your beers,” She said, pushing them all towards the aviator.

He removed his gaze from me to turn towards my aunt and gave her a thankful smile. He told her to keep a tab open before turning back towards me. He gave me a wink before moving towards the back door of the bar to go to the beach. I watched him walk away and out the door before removing my gaze from him and looking back at my aunt. She raised her eyebrows at me in amusement before crossing her arms over her chest.

“You gonna tell me what the hell that was?”

#glen powell #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #top gun maverick #glen fucking powell #tgm cast #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #top gun imagine #top gun fanfiction #tgm #jake seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake seresin #hangman x reader #anyone but you #glen powell imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #jake hangman smut

[themorriganwitch]

The Au Pair Diaries Part 2 I Jake Seresin x Reader

Fic Summary: Jake Seresin was in desperate need for an au pair for his twin girls. What he did not expect was to fall in love with the 23 year old girl who is absolutely forbidden but now lives next to his bedroom.

Chapter Summary: After some strange incidents during your first couple of days in San Diego, Coyote feels the need to lecture his Wingman from the very beginning to not go after his Au Pair

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Words: 3,4K

A/N: This is the second chapter to my pic The Au Pair Diaries. If you want to be add to the taglist please let me know. Comments and Reblogs are always dearly appreciated.

Part 1 can be read here

___________________________________________________________

After Jake had finished his call with your agency, he makes his way back into Charlies and Izzy’s bedroom, smiling as he watches the three of you sitting on the floor, browsing through one of Izzy’s books. 

Damn, he thought to himself, you must have some kind of special power if you managed to calm Charlie down enough so that she actually takes a look into a book. 

Jake knocks at the doorframe to catch your attention, reciprocating your soft smile as you lift your head to look at him. 

He points towards the cellphone he is holding in his other hand: “Lily just called me. Do you have a second to talk?” 

“Sure”, you answer nervously, before you instruct the twins, who only let you go under loud protest, to continue reading the book. 

You follow him back into the kitchen, where he offers you the same chair as about an hour ago. 

“Do you want me to sit down for the bad news?”, your try to conceal your nervousness with a joke, but as you look into these eyes you just know that he saw right through you. 

 Jake chuckles to himself. “No need to panic, kid. I told your advisor that the interview went well and that I would be happy to have you stay”.

“Really?”, you beam at him, the most breathtaking smile on your lips. 

“Yeah”, he confirms, asking himself if you would jump up again and hug him close. 

But as you make no attempt to do so, he ignores the light disappointed feeling in his stomach. 

“Oh my god, thank you so much. I promise that you won’t regret this decision”.

——————————————————————-

“And that’s your bedroom”, Jake ends the tour around his house by showing you the room right next to his own. 

The bedroom was quite big, way bigger than the room you were given by your last host family, and it provides enough place for a comfortable looking bed, a full body mirror, some shelves, a closet, and a TV. 

“It looks great”, you say, already thinking about the best places for most of your décor.

“I can get rid of some of the shelves, if you need more space”, Jake offers.

“Oh, that’s nice but you don’ have too”, you tell him. “They suit fantastically as bookshelves”. 

“You read?”, he asks interested. You answer with a nod. “What type of books?”.

“Oh. Uhm. Various types”, you say vaguely. There is no way you would tell him about the book you just finished on your flight to San Diego – a spicy Omegaverse Reverse Harem book.

Even though you must admit that the look on his face, when you’d explain terms like knotting to him, would probably be worse the slight embarrassment you’d feel by telling your sexy host dad about your book preferences. 

If Jake finds your reaction to his question suspicious, he does not bother to let you know. 

“Alright, maybe we should go and get your stuff?”. 

You nod, before explaining him the way to the motel where your agency had placed you before the interview. 

“Would you be okay with me grabbing your stuff, while you look after the girls?”

“Sure”, you agree. “But don’t you need help? I have about three suitcases and they are all quite heavy”. 

Jake looks at you as if he could not decide whether to be amused by your offer or feel insulted that you thought he were not capable to handle three damn suitcases.

“Don’t worry kid, I’ll take care of this”. 

____

A couple of hours later, after Jake got your stuff, gave you a first briefing on what you should expect the next couple of days and your first dinner with the 3 Seresins, you were now laying in your freshly washed covers revising everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. 

From being afraid and nervous to having to give up on your dream over to having the most adorable host kids, living in a pretty beach house and not to forget the eye-candy who is paying you. 

Thank you, Universe. 

After Jake had brought his girls to bed, he had told you that he has the day off tomorrow and would take care of bringing Charlie and Izzy to School. 

“You should sleep in”, he had said. “And when you get up, I can show you where the school is, the grocery store and the base. But I hope that we will never have that big of an Emergency for you to actually come and get me from there”. 

You had just nod as you felt yourself getting more tired with every word he spoke, which had earned you one of his rare, soft smiles before he had sent you in your room to get some rest.

Tomorrow you would have to unpack all your stuff, you thought to yourself as you close your eyes, slowly drifting into sleep. 

__________________________________________________________

Even though Jake had told you to sleep in today, you had set the timer for 8 in the morning, hoping your dedication would validate his decision to keep you as their Au Pair. 

An Au Pair who definitely needs a shower, you think to yourself as you take a look from your sitting position on the bed into the full-body mirror that was placed right in front of it. 

Your hair was an absolute mess, and your sleep shirt was soaked in sweat since your body still needs to accustom the hot weather in San Diego. 

As you make your way to your bedroom door, you try to hear if there wear any noises coming from down the hallway, not being sure if Jake had already left to take the girls to school. 

After you waited for a couple of seconds, not perceiving anything suspicious, you feel comfortable enough to go to the bathroom only wearing your oversized sleep shirt that ends in the middle of your upper thigh.

Later that day you would curse yourself for being too much in your head thinking about the right order to unpack your stuff, not paying any attention to the clearly audible sounds from inside the bathroom. 

But as you were now concluding that taking care of your books first would be the smartest choice, you do not bother a second to open the door. 

If you thought Jake Seresin looks like the most handsome man you ever saw in a basic Jeans and T-Shirt, you were now being taught that he looks like an absolute god in nothing, but a towel wrapped around his hips, his blonde hair still damp from the shower he just took and hips swinging to a sound coming from the air pods in his ears. 

It took you a whole ass moment to actually realize that you, just again, fully invaded your host dad’s privacy as he hasn’t recognized his messy, barely clothed nanny yet, who could not close her mouth at the heavenly view the dancing, half-naked Adonis offers to her innocent eyes. 

It took you another whole ass moment to realize that you were just standing there, literally eye-fucking him and his to be damned sixpack as an embarrassing squeaky sound leaves your mouth. 

“Oh my God. I am so sorry”, you say. 

Jake suddenly turns his head into the direction where you were standing, taking in the view of you, wide eyed, redden cheeks and only wearing a T-Shirt. 

“Can I help you?”, he asks.

“Uh. Uhm”, you stutter. 

Girl, get yourself together, your inner voice screams at you. “I wanted to take a shower”, you say slowly.

Jake smiles at you kindly. “The bathroom is occupied at this very moment. But I’ll let you know, as soon that I am finished, alright?”

Knowing you don’t have it in you to form a coherent sentence, you just nod before you make your way back to your bedroom you just wished you had never left.

What you didn’t see was Jake chuckling to himself as he continues to style his hair, thinking about how favorable it can be to be a dad to twin girls which automatically leads to being hyper aware to your environment, no matter how loud the music you are listening to is. 

If he weren’t he would have never witness, you starring at him for solid twenty seconds. 

_______________________________________________________

After that little incident you just wish that you could stay in your room forever, but after Jake returned from school, he firstly gave you a little tour around the kitchen, to let you know how several devices work, before he opens the door to his truck for you, showing you all the important places around town. 

As soon as you were back at the house, you excuse yourself into your room by telling him that you really should start unpacking. 

But due to your efforts to get out of his way, you totally forgot to get some food inside of you and as your stomach starts to rumble loudly around noon, you know you have no choice but to eventually face him again if you don’t want to starve yourself the entire day. 

As you make your way down the hallway towards the kitchen, to grab a coffee and something to eat, you hear Jake talking to a voice you can’t recognize. 

“I swear to God, Rooster cheated. There is no way he could ever beat me in pool”. 

“Nah. Seems like you just are not as good as you always thought, Hangman”.

“We both know Machado that I am the best no matter what I am doing”. 

You just come into the room as the unknown man snorts “Sure”, in a mocking tone. 

“Oh hi”, you say, waving awkwardly at Jake and his friend as you pass them on your way to the coffee machine.

“What’s going on, kid?”, Jake asks as he watches you open the fridge, hoping to find some milk alternatives. 

“I need some coffee. Is there any way that you have something like almond or oat milk?”.

Jake nods. “Yeah, there must be some left. It’s probably standing behind the Ketchup”, he points to a green carton. 

“Oh, thank you”, you say as you grab the milk and smile at the man next to Jake. 

“I’m the new Au pair”, you introduce yourself before adding your name. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Javy, Hangman’s Wingman”. 

“Hangman?”, you ask confused, shortly turning your back towards Javy and Jake as you stretch yourself to grab a mug from the shelve above you. 

The way Jakes eyes were glued to your bare, soft looking thighs as your sundress rides up by reaching for the mug was left unbeknown to you, but not to Coyote whose lips were now curling into a shit eating grin. 

Jake clears his throat, answering his friends grin with his best death stare before he turns his head back in your direction. 

“Hangman is my callsign”, he tells you as you hit the buttons on the coffee machines just like he showed you this morning. 

“What is a callsign?”, you were still confused, barely knowing anything about the navy and its peculiarities. 

“A callsign is kind of a nickname we get by other aviators. Mine is Hangman and Javy is called Coyote at work”.

You pour the coffee into the mug where you had already put the milk in, giving it a good stir, as you think about what you heard before you had entered the kitchen. 

“So, I guess when you were talking about Rooster you were not referring to an actual animal?”

Both men chuckle as their shake their head strikingly in sync. 

“Anyways”, you say, grabbing the mug before starting to head towards the door. 

“I still have plenty of things to unpack, so don’t let me bother you any longer. It was nice to meet you, Javy”, you smile at him kindly. 

“It was nice to meet you too”, Coyote says as he watches you leaving the room, hearing a loud clicking sound as you close the door behind you.

His head turns to his Wingman who was still starring at the spot where you just left, the devious grin from before returning to his lips.

“Don’t you dare to say a thing”, Jake starts not even bothering to look at his coworker. 

“I don’t have to”, Coyote chuckles. “The both of us know that you are absolutely screwed”.

Jake sighs, the image of your naked thighs as you reached for the shelve playing repeatedly in front of his inner eye. 

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

__________________________________________________________________________

Your first few days in the Seresin household just flew by so fast, that on Friday you could barely belief that you were nearly here for an entire week.

The first couple of days were hard, as you were trying to find a routine that works for you and the girls but as the days passed by, most of the things that caused problems in the beginnings were now way easier to handle. 

Sure, stopping Charlie from destroying the interior when she wants to play hockey with one of Izzy’s books in the living room was still a challenge, but after you had managed to redirect her excess energy into a Taylor Swift dance party, you were now sure that you were able to handle situations like this in the future. 

Most of your days start around 7 with getting yourself ready before doing the same with the girls. Around 8:30 you were normally back from taking them to school, then going over to clean the kitchen and living room.

Both chords do not take that long, so there was plenty of free time left for yourself before you must make your way back to school to get the girls. 

You took the first week, trying to find out the best options to keep Izzy and Charlie entertained all afternoon long, when none of them had either Soccer or piano lessons.

It appears that the twins love going for a ride in the car, grabbing each of them a child-friendly drink at Starbucks before you go either to the park or the Beach. 

While Izzy takes her time there to either read a book or walking barefoot through the water, Charlie, to no one’s surprise, spends her afternoons with playing with other kids at the Parks’ playground or by doing cartwheels in the sand. 

 On one particular day, where you felt slightly courageous you asked Charlie to show you how to do one, but after you fell with your face on the ground, mouth open in a surprised scream which was then stuffed full of sand, you decided that one try was more than enough. 

The twins, who could not stop laughing as they saw you laying in the sand, your face showing an expression of absolute disbelief, continued to tell this story all week long to everyone willing to listen.

This List does not only include 2 other Au Pairs of Charlies friends at the park, their dad, Izzy’s Piano Teacher, and the Lady at Starbucks who sold you your drinks the day after the incident, but also Javy who came over on Thursday to try your first attempt in making Mac and Cheese.

After everyone’s bellies were full of your, to your very own surprise, delicious tasting Pasta, Javy could not deny himself the weird tension he sees between you and his best friend. 

The short glances you shoot each other, filled with something he could not really name, whenever the other was looking away and the way Jake’s face lights up when you said something funny. 

Coyote knows that the both of you were probably simply having a tiny crush on each other, but since he just knew his wingman sometimes better then he knows himself, he was well aware that Jake, when not flying his beloved F-18, was quite impulsive and tend to not think the things through he better should. 

 In Javy’s opinion making a move to fuck your Au-Pair is definitely a thing you should think through. 

Coyote also knows that Jake went through dozens of Nannies who either had quit the job because they were overchallenged with taking care of twins or who were fired by Hangman after their first day because they did not fulfil his requirements. 

Keeping you in the Seresin household was not only important for you and your future plans but also for Jake since it seemed like you were becoming one of only a handful of people, he trusts with the two most important things in his life. 

That’s why Javy takes his time the next day at work, to give his wingman a dressing-down about the situation between the two of you, not that he really thought Jake Seresin would give him the opportunity to actually do so. 

“Dude, you know you can’t actually go after your au pair right? There are rules and-”.

“Calm down, Coyote”, Jake cuts him off instantly. He of course knows that he can’t go after you but at least Javy does not have to destroy his daydreams of fucking you nice and slow. 

“Jake this girl has only been in your house for what? A Week? And you already caught her gawking at you half naked while you can’t seem to care to not glue your eyes to her ass whenever she turns her back at you!”

“You are exaggerating”.

“No, I’m not. The tension in your house is thick like syrup and you barely even know this girl”.

“You can’t sue a man for appreciating the stunning looking, 23-year-old, who spends her entire day with his daughters and sleeps in the bedroom right next to his”. 

“That jut sounds creepy as hell, man”.

“You know I don’t mean it this way”. 

“You sure of that? I know it’s been some time since the last time you’d been laid, but if you keep going like this the vibes in your house will just get weirder than they already are”.

“Hey! It’s not been that long since I’ve got laid”, Jake tries to defend himself. Coyote snorts.

“The last time you got laid was when Rooster had to shave his moustache off after losing that dumb bet to Nat. And I am talking about the first time. He has already grown that damn thing back twice”. 

Jake rolls his eyes. 

“So, what should I do, huh?”

“Going out with me to the hard deck, of course. We will find you a nice girl who you can have a quickie with on the toilet, that will take that pressure out of you, and you can stop acting weird around y/n”.

The blonde aviator sighs, fucking some random girl in such a cheap way was the last thing he was in the mood for. 

Nevertheless, he nods in agreement, hoping Coyote would now stop to give him a lecture in morality.

Javy pats his shoulder: “That’s great. And it will fully ease your mind. I can’t tolerate that you use my beautiful nieces to slip one in”.

Jake looks at him in absolute disbelief. “There is no way I would ever get my daughters into stuff like this, and you know this”. 

“You are literally thinking about fucking their Nanny!”

“That’s something entirely different!” 

“How’s that?”, Javy raises his eyebrow tauntingly.

“It’s not that I used my daughters to get a hot au pair into my house on purpose. It’s a coincidence that the girl I got into my house to take care of my daughters is also hot.” 

Javy snorts. “And what about the time you asked me to bring my nephew to the beach to get with one of the hot volleyballers?”. 

“You can’t compare this with each other”. 

“Why not?”

“It was your nephew and not my daughters and, in the end, I bought him an Ice Cream as a reward, which was so big that your sister scolded me afterwards”. 

“You really are unbelievable”, Javy answers shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s what the volleyball girl said after I was done with her”, Jake winks at his friend who opens his mouth then to respond but was cut off by the rest of the Dagger Squad coming into the briefing room. 

“Mav and Cyclone are on their way”, Payback informs the two of them, as he takes place next to Coyote who then nods at his co-workers’ words. 

“We are not done yet, Hangman”, Coyote warns him and Jake sighs.

He could not wait for Round 2.

_____________________________________________________________

Taglist:

@djs8891

#jake seresin #top gun maverick #tgm #jake seresin x reader #tgm smut #top gun smut #jake seresin smut #Jake Hangman Seresin #Jake Seresin x y/n #The Au Pair Diaries #Jake Seresin fluff #Jake Seresin imagine #Jake Seresin one shot #dilf Jake Seresin #dagger squad #top Gun Maverick Imagine

[hanluex]

♡ YOUR BIG BABY — JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN

bf!hangman x gn!reader | wc : 0.5k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, comfort (?), fluff, mentions of food, mentions of pet-names

“will you grab the chips, and i’ll grab the dip?”

you suggested, dragging the shopping cart from the front as your boyfriend kept trying to hang onto it from the back.

“mhm, yeah, okay.”

you stopped the cart, your brows furrowing as you looked at your boyfriend. “hangboy, are you even listening to me?!” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“sorry, sorry.” he sheepishly smiled, fixing his posture as he stood properly. “can i go to the bathroom first, though?”

you nodded. “i’ll be in the dip aisle. meet me there after you are done, yeah?” you checked, getting a nod from the brunet.

as your boyfriend left for the bathrooms, you walked around the store, gathering whatever you needed for the movie night you two were hosting.

“all that’s left is the dip,” you muttered to yourself before remembering another item. “ah, shoot. we don’t have any detergent left either.”

not thinking much of your actions, you pushed your cart towards the household items section, trying to find the brand of detergent you usually use.

and just like that, you went on an entire tour around the supermarket, buying things you didn’t think you’d need, but threw them in the cart just in case.

it wasn’t until ten minutes later that you realized you were missing your annoying interrupter.

jake seresin was nowhere to be seen, and it was clear as you looked at the shopping cart in front of you.

without him to stop your impulsive purchases, your cart was practically filled to the brim.

as you were going on your phone, about to call your boyfriend, the supermarket’s public announcement system caught your attention.

“this is an announcement for miss y/n. please collect your child at counter 5. miss y/n, your child is at counter 5.”

you paused in your tracks, wondering if there was a slight possibility that there was someone with your exact name who lost their child — because, as far as you knew, you didn’t have any kids.

unless … of course, that’d make enough sense.

you made your way towards the aforementioned counter, and just as you suspected, the brunet sat on the stool, swinging his legs as he waited for your arrival.

“jacob!” you whined, seeing the workers giggle amongst themselves as they saw the way his face lit up as soon as he saw you. “my child?! really?!”

“you abandoned me!” jake pouted, grumpily crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at you. “you said you’d be at the dip aisle, but you weren’t.”

“i’m sorry about that. i got sidetracked.”

jake scoffed, gesturing towards the shopping cart. “yeah, clearly.” he sighed, scanning the items inside. “why do you need a chew toy? we don’t even have a dog.” he couldn’t help but laugh, amused by the items you had impulsively bought.

“it looks fun, okay?!”

“a chew toy, really? babe, i–”

“shush, you can’t say anything when you literally made a public announcement instead of searching for me!” you defended yourself, unable to hide your smile when your boyfriend pouted again. “you are just a big baby.”

“okay, yeah, i agree, but i am your big baby.”

TAGLIST: @sweetheart-im-the-boss @maverick-wingman (SEND AN ASK OR DM TO BE ADDED!)

#[📝] works #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagines #top gun maverick hangman #hangman imagines #hangman scenarios #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin drabbles #top gun maverick drabbles #top gun maverick scenarios #jake hangman seresin

[myfaveficrecs]

Remember This?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Word Count: 2,011

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of injuries/medical procedures

AN: I am dipping my toes back into the writing world for @roosterforme​’s #love is in the air tgm challenge. My song is, “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men. Hopefully this isn’t a flop! Happy Valentine’s Day! XOXO

You enjoyed your job immensely. Helping people had always been something that was extremely important to you, and you were lucky enough to be able to do what you were passionate about. You finished medical school 3 years ago and now you were employed at your local VA Hospital part time, your other half being on base with your husband, Bradley. You had been high school sweethearts and you were still going on like it was your honeymoon.

You were overjoyed when you learned you were going to be able to help soldiers from all branches from all over the country. You helped veteran soldiers with rehabilitation mostly. Post war injuries that needed extra help and attention when they were able to come back home. 

Bradley and his squadron were all in the Navy. Fanboy and Halo had done 3 tours in Iraq and Afghanistan while Bradley had done 2 recently. Hangman was almost killed in combat 4 days before he was due to come home from his last deployment. The others had thankfully come home in one piece, only minor scrapes and injuries from their time overseas. Bradley hadn’t been as lucky. 

Bradley had been shot once in the chest inches away from his heart, and shrapnel had sliced through his face, neck, and arm. He was lucky to be alive but thankfully the doctors he had were good at what they do. They were able to save his life but not without complications. He had severe nerve damage through his left shoulder and bicep and his collarbone had been shattered and completely reconstructed. When he was sent home, he started showing up to the hospital you worked at for his physical therapy, often riding home with you at the end of the day.

You had just finished with a patient when you were heading to your office, passing by the nurses’ station on your way. You dropped the patient’s chart off at the desk but before you could start heading in the direction you desired, your charge nurse, Rebecca, stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“If you don’t want him, I’ll take him.”

She just shrugged her shoulders noncommittally with a smirk, walking away from you to continue your filing.  Looking at your basket you noticed you had no patients waiting and walked to your office wondering who could be waiting for you.

As soon as you walked into your office your face broke out in a large smile. You knew it was your husband without a doubt. His 6’1” frame standing in front of your large window overlooking the city, broad shoulders, long legs, tight little ass, and hair with perfect curls for pulling.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise.” You smiled while shutting your door, taking off your lab jacket and throwing it over the back of one of the chairs in your office. He turned around quickly and smiled at you, holding his arms open wide for you to walk into, bringing you into a warm and tight embrace.

“Yeah, I had my last appointment today and thought I’d come up and see you.”

“How’d it go?”

“Good. Almost as good as before.”

“That’s awesome, honey.”

“You don’t have any patients do you?”

“No, I think my next appointment is in another 45 minutes, why?”

With a mischievous look and a flick of the lock on your door, Bradley looks towards your desk and says, “Hey Alexa! Play my baby maker playlist.” You couldn’t help but laugh, burying your face in his chest as “I’ll Make Love to You,” starts to echo in your office.  

“Haven’t heard this song since the night before my last deployment...you remember that night?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Of course, I do! But Roo, we can’t do that here!”

“We can. I locked the door. C’mon baby, I thought we could celebrate a little early.” He could see the slight crack in your resolve and pounced on the seconds of vulnerability, the pride. “Besides, Rebecca is probably listening right outside the door right now anyway.:

Close your eyes, make a wish And blow out the candlelight For tonight is just your night We're gonna celebrate, all through the night Pour the wine, light the fire Girl your wish is my command I submit to your demands

Bradley wrapped one hand into your hair, gently pulling your head back, tracing his nose up your cheek. Pulling back slightly he hovers his lips over your own, a little quirk to his lips when he pulls millimeters away when you try and connect. Once, twice more before he lets out a breathy chuckle at your frustration, finally crashing his plush lips to yours in a passionate kiss. His other hand pushing into your lower back and pulling you flush against him, swaying to the harmony of the song. When he pulled away you were both breathless and dizzy. Desire had pooled in your core, and you could feel an impressive bulge digging into your stomach. “You gonna let me love you like it’s that night all over again? Right here, right now?”

He didn’t give you any time to respond before he crashed his lips back onto yours once again. This time the kiss was all tongue and teeth. He loved to bite on your lower lip when you kissed, and it always managed to send shivers down your spine. As soon as you let out a moan, he knew he had you right where he wanted you and he smiled against your mouth. He quickly picked you up, digging his hands underneath your ass cheeks and plopped you unceremoniously on top of your desk, pushing everything out of his way to give you enough room to lie down. Your movements were frantic, knowing time was limited, ironically the same as the night before he left. 

I will do anything, girl you need only ask I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley was usually a rough lover, but he always managed to make you feel loved and protected, no matter what you were doing, and the sex was no different. His touch held a tenderness; a reaffirming touch that he would always be there to care for you.

You quickly pulled his shirt off of his broad shoulders and pulled it up over his head to reveal his chiseled chest and abs. Reaching up you pulled Bradley down toward you, kissing over his scars from the old wounds, shrapnel, and surgeries. This was something you always did, letting him know you were thankful he was alive and in your arms. The reminder that he was still beautiful in your eyes.

Girl relax, let's go slow I ain't got nowhere to go I'm just gon' concentrate on you Girl, are you ready? It's gon' be a long night Throw your clothes (throw your clothes) on the floor (on the floor) I'm gonna take my clothes off too I've made plans to be with you Girl whatever you ask me, you know I can do

Bradley pulled your hair and moved your head back far enough to stretch your neck long, licking a broad stripe and ending with a quick nip underneath your ear. You let out an obscene moan making him pull back from you and stand up as straight as he could while leaning over your desk for support. “You gotta be quiet, baby.” He practically ripped your scrub pants and panties off of you in one quick pull, your shoes flying off along with them from the force of his tug. He placed your feet wide along the edge of your desk, opening yourself up to him. “Fuck Y/N…you’re already soaking wet.” 

“I’m always wet for you, Bradley…now are you just going to stare or are you going to make love to your wife?” 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby, all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

Bradley’s demeanor instantly changed. His eyes quickly shot up to yours, narrowing into slits. He clenched his jaw making it tick, and he snapped his belt open, never once taking his eyes from yours. The intensity bringing a new wave of slick rushing out of you. There was no reply from him, his face telling you everything you needed to know. He was most definitely going to love you, and he was going to make sure you remembered it. 

Pulling his jeans and boxers down just below his ass, his erection sprang free. It was long and thick, steadily leaking drops of precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, slowly stroking upwards, giving you a show. With a smirk he wrapped his hand around your thighs, pulling you down until your ass was flush with the edge of your desk. 

Baby, tonight is your night And I will do you right Just make a wish on your night Anything that you ask I will give you the love of your life, your life, your life

No warning was given before he thrust into you in one slow and measured thrust, filling you to the brink, and trusting your body to accept him as it has hundreds of times before. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened wide to let out a sound you had never heard yourself make before, not that you could bring yourself to care. 

“I said,” he pistoned into you quickly, “be quiet. You don’t want those coworkers of yours getting too curious, do you?” You shook your head, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to muffle your noises. Bradley set a punishing pace knowing time was not on his side. His hips quickly meeting yours, the sound of slapping skin loud enough to echo throughout your office over the music. He pushed your scrub top up and over your breasts, pulling the cups of your bra down, and started to roughly caress your breasts with his left hand, his right holding tightly onto your hip to keep you from scooting across your desk from the power of his thrusts. The cold metal of his wedding ring made your nipples harden to tight peaks, the sensation running like a lightning bolt to your clit. “Fuck…Roo…please.” 

He didn’t need to ask what you needed, knowing your body better than you did after all of these years. He quickly put his body flush with yours, chest to chest, intertwining your hands together beside of your head, and slammed his lips onto yours once again, tongues battling for dominance and attempting to muffle the noises trying to escape. The new angle caused him to move even deeper inside of you, completely bottoming out. The feeling of being so full and the delicious friction his pelvis was giving you by rubbing against your clit sent you over the edge. 

I'll make love to you Like you want me to And I'll hold you tight Baby all through the night I'll make love to you When you want me to And I will not let go 'Til you tell me to

You arched your back and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist. The tight fluttering of your walls sending Bradley into his own orgasm, giving a growl you felt deep within his chest as he released himself inside of you. The sound of your intercom on your office phone went off, Rebecca’s voice floating through the room. “Your last appointment of the day just cancelled. See you tomorrow, Dr. Bradshaw!” 

Both of you were still breathing heavily, interlocked together to the point you couldn’t tell where you began, and he ended. “Thank God because I don’t think I can walk after that.” 

You both broke out into laughter, ready to go home. Bradley knew he had that record on the bookshelf in his office...round 2 is exactly what the doctor ordered.

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#love is in the air tgm #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun fanfiction #tgm #rooster x y/n #rooster imagine #rooster smut #female reader

[jaidens]

I'd Give All Have, Honey If You Could Stay Like That, Oh, Darling Don't You Ever Grow Up

pairing [s] : bob floyd x reader

warning [s] : call your dentist as soon as possible! the sweet fluff is giving you cavities!

a/n [s] : requests are open! the pictures do not show what your daughters might look like.

Robert was a girl dad. If anyone has dared to try and make fun of him for being head over heels for his daughters and wife, call the ambulance. Jake pushed his buttons by calling him Baby on Board, but Hangman knew to never make fun of him about his daughters. You loved the way he could never say no to his daughters flapping eyelashes and pretty eyes blinking at him. It was sometimes annoying for how much candy your babies could assume if their daddy was taking care of them for a day.

Currently, Bob was holding his daughter Tessa in his arms, slowly running his hands down her hair. She was almost asleep, eyes attempting to stay open. Tessa was slumped against your husband's chest, drool slowly falling out of her mouth when she finally sleeps. Eventually Sophia, Tessa’s sister, clomps over to Bob, hands going up to try and grab her Daddy.

“Hey babygirl.. did you have fun with Uncle Mickey?” Bob's voice is calm and soft as he picks his daughter up in his other arm and pulls her up. Sophia wraps around her dad's arms, laying on his shoulder. You're sipping a soda while you scroll on your phone. “Mm.. daddy wanna go home. Sleepy.” It's only 6:30 but he swears his girls got your sleeping gene. You're almost asleep too as you lay against his shoulder. He's surprised you're even getting sleepy whenever Jake goes to turn another song on the jukebox.

“Hey, babe, Soph’ is getting sleepy and Tess is asleep. You think it's time to head out?” Bob says to you while he attempts to not wake up Tessa. “Yeah I think so. The girls have been up since six-thirty. And Mama needs her husband alone tonight.” He laughs gently as you pick up your bag and stand up. Your hand runs against Tessa’s soft curls and you kiss Bob softly. His cheeks turn a dusty pink. Even after fourteen years of marriage, he still gets flustered by you. You smile at him and pick up Sophia. She lets out a small whine before she relaxes in your arms.

The team gives you all hugs as you say goodbye to everyone. Sophia waves tiredly at Fanboy and Phoenix. You walk out the door and Bob follows behind you, holding the door open for you. You're walking to your car before Bob runs in front of you and opens the door for you, hand touching your lower back. “I’ll put the girls in their seats, love.” You kiss his lips and he smirks at you. He hands you the keys and you start the car with them.

You can hear him in the backseat buckling in Tessa and she starts to almost cry before he kisses her softly. Bob had a hidden voice he would never share, the soft voice from his choir days in highschool. You hear the relaxing Taylor Swift song that Bob held you to during the Speak Now tour in 2011. You remember telling him after the concert that you would dream about your kids with him during that song.

Now, your dream came true. Bob had kept his promise and whenever Tessa was born, he held her in his arms and sang just that song. It became tradition in your daughters’ lives to hear that song from their dad. It felt like you were in college again, in the back of Bobby’s best up Chevy staring at the stars talking about your future. The only thing you were sure of was Bobby would always be written in your stars.

Bob jumped into the truck, putting the windows down to let in the warm summer night. He flips the radio on, a random country station playing soft music. His hand falls to your thigh, thumb going under the rips in your jeans. “Y'know,” Bob begins, his head turns, looking at you and back at the road. “Jake said he could take the girls this weekend. His nieces are coming over. I thought we could go to the city for the weekend. Drink and go crazy, like we did before the girls.��

You laugh gently and nod at him. “Yeah sure. I missed those times if I had to be honest. I miss the mullet you had in highschool, and I missed when you held me in your arms that summer night when Daniel Carrigan said you sucked at football and you almost cried.” He pinches your thigh and laughs. “I still can't believe he said that.”

“Tess has gotten so big recently. I was scrolling through the pictures on my phone and I saw her when she was a little baby on her first day of school.” You show him the picture and you see the way he is for a moment. “I wish I could keep her like that forever. She was such a little baby.” Bob tells you and smiles at the photos of her dancing around in her little dresses.

He taps your thigh with his hand and grips the wheel. You know he's sensitive about his girls growing up and it's something so bittersweet; growing up. You've grown up with Bob, and you watch him watch his girls grow up. You remember telling him one day about how you were scared about growing up and what the future held. He only told you one thing,

“Whatever the future might hold, you can remember I'll always be there.”

That's whenever you knew you would be with him forever. The funky glasses he wore and his long hairstyle. He was stuck with you and you were stuck with him.

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