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redfurrycat · 4 months

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🤠🐂🐓Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin (Vol. II) Fic Recs🐓🐂🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Alecjbi, Chase_acow, Dalearden, Dames_for_jamesbarnes, Dandeliondick, Davidbyrne, Earthangel_44, Ginnydear, Haridwar, Heir2slytherin, Kakyoins__wife, KazanskIce, Kiddi, MerielTLA, Nightwrite24, Owls4ever, Popandpizazz, Sceld, Sycamoretree, Thereisnocowboyemoji, Totoroboiii, Vannral, VarjoRuusu, Writerofthelorde.

> Texan Jake "Hangman" Seresin (Vol. I)

Art Bonus - I was cravin' the visual so badly I had to add these delightful pieces of art (don't hesitate to point others my way, I'm SURE I missed some 🤗🥰)

Aran’s Bullriding!Hangster - Aran’s Hat Rule!Hangster - Beezel’s (Smutty) Hat Rule!Hangster - Beezel’s Cowboy!Jake - Gray‘s Barbie Cowboy!Jake - Gray‘s Cowboy!Jake - Gray's Cowboy!Jake & Saloon Owner!Bradley - Megan’s Cowboy!Jake - Mustasekittens’ Cowboy!Jake - Storm’s Cowboy!Jake - Storm’s Cowboys!Hangster.

The Exes of Texas Are Upon You by chase_acow {M}

While trying to enjoy their day off, a bet comes back to haunt Hangman forcing Rooster into a tight spot.

cowboy, take me away by ginnydear {T}

jake has a cowboy hat he doesn't just let anyone wear. bradley takes that as a challenge.

Show me the way home, honey! by thereisnocowboyemoji {E}

It’s perched on one of the posts of their poster bed frame and it drives Bradley absolutely crazy.

riding into the sunset with you by alecjbi {E}

While searching through the group's old Facebook posts, Jake finds a photo of Bradley that he can't seem to get over.

Nickelback isn't Romantic, Jake. by dandeliondick {T}

When Jake drinks everyone remembers that he's from Texas and one poorly placed bet from Fanboy leads to everyone in the bar learning Jake is from Texas and well...Bradley is just trying to make it through the night without jumping the ex-asshole.

"I bet on after Texas, it makes him soft." by dandeliondick {T}

The other man raised a brow before reaching up for the bottle Jake pulling it backwards making Jake fall into his chest with a huff. Bradley laughed as Jake honest to God pouted full bottom lip out, “Bradley Bradshaw stop being a dick.” Bradley kept ahold of the beers as he sat down making a dramatic show of getting comfortable before turning his smirk up at Jake, “Well, take a seat and you can have your beer.” He expected Jake to grab his beer and walk off and he nearly jumped when Jake instead swung around and settled onto Bradley’s thighs. Jake leaned back against his chest and laid his head on Bradley’s left shoulder as he snagged his beer from his loose grip.

A Barbecue by Any Other Name by owls4ever {T}

The second time their leaves all line up, Mav's in charge of hosting. Despite himself, Jake's excited when Mav announces he'll throw them a barbecue. What could be better than a day of hanging out with each other and eating good food? Only, turns out Jake and Mav don't expect the same things when it comes to throwing a barbecue.

Pressed Sunflowers by Sceld {T}

His smug expression is the final nail in the coffin for Jake, who is doing a fucking terrible job at hiding his outright shock. “You’re… Good at that,” he says slowly, pretending it’s not doing something for him. or; Jake spends the night at Bradley's place and learns more than he anticipated.

Forever your begonia by MerielTLA {T}

“This is not for me.” Mickey grinned like a fucking maniac as he held out a small envelope for everyone to see, pointing at the signature in it. Jake. The blond felt his world tilt as he frowned at the offending four letters of his name. What. The. Fuck. He pulled the card away from the other´s hand as he looked at the fancy lettering in horrified amazement. “Oh my GOD! Bagman has an admirer?!” Paybay yelled Or Jake Hangman Seresin had never gotten flowers...until he did.

With His Head Held High by dalearden {T}

Jake was born and raised in Texas and he knows a thing or two about guns. When Hard Deck is raided by a band of thugs and all inside taken hostage, Jake gets his hands on a rifle that Penny keeps under the counter and shows them exactly why they shouldn’t mess up with his Team. And Rooster may or may not get hard by seeing how precise Jake’s aim is.

Rack 'Em Up, Big Blonde by Earthangel_44 {E}

Bradley becomes a regular at a Hooters to spend three hours with a blonde server with an unfortunate taste in football teams. Along the way, Bradley might have developed feelings. AKA: Jake is a Hooter's girl and Bradley is his regular.

First Thanksgiving as a couple by Writerofthelorde {G}

Bradley and Jake live together in Bradley's old house, and they're getting everything ready for their family members. They are both nervous. Jake's parents are vastly different from Pete and he is worried they won't get along. Bradley is worried because he had been doing this holiday alone for sixteen years and he's not sure how to act. That and he has some very special papers to give Mav today, and what if he doesn't want to sign them...? The day is a mess, it's loud and hysterical and soft and full of tears.

Rolling Hills and Stormy Skies by VarjoRuusu {E}

(Not Texan!Jake - but this fic fits the vibe! <3)

Everyone thinks Jake Seresin is from Texas. Something he doesn't bother to correct, he just enjoys when his friends try and pin down exactly where his family ranch is, north, south, it's near Dallas, no it's near Austin. He sips his beer and lets them guess until the topic changes. He elbows Rooster in the side when the other man can't stop snickering because only Rooster knows Jake Seresin's ranch is in Montana. -Or, a tale of Bradley and Jake.

bluebonnet boy by dames_for_jamesbarnes {T}

"Let's go see 'em," he says. starts putting his foot on the brake, slows them down to a crawl after checking his rearview. Bradley glances back at him with wide eyes, but Jake just gives him a little smile as they roll to a stop. "C'mon. They won't bite." "But your parents might," he says to Jake, concern creeping into his tone. Jake's fingers tighten a bit on the wheel at the mention of them, even as he puts the truck in park. Bradley always plays at not being nervous, but this is different. This is meeting the folks. "Aren't they expecting us?" It's the sight of the purpley petals once more, the way they seem to shimmer and shine that allows a deep breath. "Yeah, but we're almost home," he tells the other man, reaching over to squeeze his thigh. "And... I think they'll understand." -The bluebonnets make Jake feel more than sentimental, memories of a time when he could just forget. He's glad he gets the chance to do it again with Bradley.

I thought he was older by Popandpizazz {_}

Jake recently moved to California and started dating Bradley Bradshaw and for the first time in months he’s going to see his closest friend

darling, i ain't even worried by heir2slytherin {_}

Jake Seresin did not get jealous. He didn’t have to. He was completely secure in himself, thank you very much. He knew that he was the best there was, in every aspect. He knew that nobody could even compare to him. He knew that no matter how many dates Rooster, no matter how many drinks he accepted at the bar, they were always going to end up together. Of course, he was sure of himself, but the one true thing he knew for absolute damn sure was that he and Rooster were always going to be the ones to walk into the sunset together. He didn’t need to get jealous. That was no point. ... Or, Rooster keeps going out with people who will never be as good as Hangman, and it is most certainly not killing Hangman from the inside.

Wear the Hat, Ride the Cowboy by kakyoins__wife {T}

Jake won't stop wearing obnoxiously big cowboy hats and Bradley decides to steal it.

dirty dance floors and dreams of naughtiness by davidbyrne {E}

Bradley reaches over and grabs Jake’s hat, lifting it off his head. He settles it on his own, winking at Jake as he does so. Jake smirks. “Getting into the country aesthetic?” he teases, spinning them easily. Jake admires the way Bradley follows his guidance naturally. “Nah,” Bradley answers, keeping his eyes trained on Jake. “Just testing out if a rumor I heard is true.” “What rumor?” Jake asks, crooking an eyebrow. “Steal the hat, ride the cowboy.”

If you find yourself thinkin' About that boy from East Texas by Kiddi {M}

“Funnily enough,” he decided to say, hoping he was reading the situation correctly, “this isn't the first sunrise we’ve had, is it?” Jake chuckled softly and made a small noise, “no it is not,” he agreed, “just as pretty though,” “No matter where I go,” he retraced old conversations, “the sunrise always feels like back home.” They settled in comfortable silence for a bit before Jake spoke, “it's been a while since we’ve seen each other,” he said, looking down at the sand, “Spain was it?” he looked over at Rooster, “the last time I saw you?” A little bit of shame and guilt rose in his chest, neither of them kept in touch after Spain but Rooster always felt like it was his fault, “yea, it was,” he nodded, “you haven't changed a bit though, still as annoying as ever,” he laughed, and so did Jake, “but you’re still one hell of a pilot,” Or Bradley and Jake haven't seen each other since running away from their feelings and now they have to realize that they never really went away in the first place

Somebody Sighs Who Is Not In Disguise Anymore by Totoroboiii {E}

Bradley doesn’t connect the dots that maybe Jake was his high school crush

change is alright by haridwar {M}

Jake bet fifty-fifty on whether he was going to enjoy this conversation and stepped up to the passenger side door just as the window rolled down. He was greeted with a warm, smiling, moustachioed face which took him off guard. Though Jake didn’t recognise the driver, something about him verged upon familiar. His smile faltered as his gaze flitted over Jake’s face, eyes tightening in a way Jake didn’t want to overanalyse, but it made him seem no less friendly overall. “Where you headed?” “Closest ranch,” Jake replied, trying to keep his tone neutral as he made the snap decision to not identify himself for reasons he would rather not think about. or... little bit of homecoming, whole lot of drama

show me a slow ride, cowboy by vannral {E}

”Bradley reaches, takes the hat very gently from Jake and places it on his own head. Oh. Jake’s heart is about to burst wide open through the seams.” In which Jake wears a Stetson and Bradley comes down from the perch for once. Or, the obligatory ’steal the hat, ride the cowboy’-fic.

All I want (for Christmas) by KazanskIce {T}

“It’s… almost midnight,” Jake stutters, hoping that his time estimation is right. It’s been a couple of hours since the start of the party and he hasn’t been checking his watch. “What about it?” “You know what they say… about kissing someone at midnight.” Bradley laughs shortly, but it doesn’t seem like he’s trying to be mean. When he stops, his eyes return to Jake. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t matter, because it’s not New Year’s Eve,” he says. He’s either not getting the point or purposely trying to throw Jake off.

From the horse's mouth by sycamoretree {M}

Jake hears that there’s trouble with his horse back home. Bradley misunderstands hugely. It has an impact on both of them.

cowboy like me by nightwrite24 {G}

“Why weren’t you in love with me the whole time, asshole?” Bradley feels the doey-eyed look in his eyes melt into downright annoyance. “Well, maybe it took me a fucking minute to figure it out, Jake!” Bradley writes songs for the girls he falls in love with.

#Texan Jake Hangman Seresin (Vol.II) Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

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kloofspeaks · 1 year

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Top Wave | A Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw Fictional Work

Words: 3044

Sneakpeek: She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do.

She was made to surf.

Chapter Four Out of Ten

Chapter List : here

Inspiration - Artwork by MustaseKittens

(Tags: @callmemana, @notyoursbutlewis, @bayisdying, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy)

The soft dings of cups clanking, Y/N was leaning against the warm counter of her cubby that sat in the corner. She figured tonight wasn’t going to be hard, especially with it being packed, not most surfers came in to ask for something huge. She was still pondering on the subject about the night at the Bradshaw’s. She hadn’t lost the loosening feeling of the chains that were invisibly wrapped around her wrist, she couldn’t describe the crack in between them and the promise she gave to her wishing father.

She could remember the feeling of his hands, they felt a lot like Bradley’s in a sense, rough and worked, yet smooth. Her eyes floundered around the designed space of the bar, the collection of empty cups and people that were crowded at certain tables. She saw it as her highschool days, everyone had someone, everyone but herself. She hadn’t spotted Goose since the night she spent having dinner with his lovely family.

Bradley didn’t let go of her hand till they went to dinner, his warm and tight grip, Carole never questioned on what took them so long, what could’ve possibly delayed dinner. She figured the spooked and ghostly looks they all gave her was enough said, Carole wasn’t one to pry much like Goose, she was quite spirited, very wise and kind. She could imagine how well her mother would’ve gotten along with Carole, they were very much alike in a sense.

The night went on like normal, she enjoyed the dinner, watched a small movie with Bradley and said her farewells before heading out for the shift she had at The Hard Deck that night and now she was leaning against her counter fighting the feeling that had formed last night from her and Goose’s small chat about her father. The feeling of broken chains, the feeling of the promise she made slipping from her fingertips, her red and hot finger tips.

Her cheeks were brushed with a rough red, her hand kept pulsing into a fist everytime she brought it back to her attention, she was too focused on this broken feeling as if something was missing, or something was trying to tell her something. She knew Goose and Bradley had mentioned surfing, Goose had tried to get her to step back into surfing on multiple accounts, but she had said it pretty simply, she was a waterboarded seal.

She was stuck on the land with no way out, she was grasping for help out of a promise that couldn’t ever be broken even with the right words, the right touch. She was stuck behind the bars of her cubby, the one where the bars were completely invisible except to her and her toil. Goose couldn’t ever see the same bars that taunted her each day, the same bars that somehow had a shadow in her dull and broken eyes. She looked out the glass windows that looked straight out to the folding blue waters.

She wasn’t longing, she could feel herself reaching out for those folding and graceful looking waves, she breathed out slightly looking back at her board. She couldn’t break the promise, she couldn’t bring herself to let her father’s wishes wash away like chalk in the rain, the same chalk her father used in the summer. Y/N couldn’t ponder from behind her cubby, the one that played music ever so often, the song My Girl by The Temptations was playing on her old static radio, the one that couldn’t handle the volume once it got to a certain volume.

She was holding onto too tight, she was holding onto her father’s spirit like a crutch, no one could stop her from grabbing her board and placing it upon the rushing waves and jumping onto the deck doing what she was made to do.

She was made to surf.

She was made to be able to walk out to the water without lasting guilt on the tip of her tongue, her eyes found their way back to her board, the one with the surfsign Destiny. It was in bright blue letters, the color her father chose for her as a child. The one she had no say in, the destiny her father wanted for her was written on that board, the one she made as a child with the help of her father’s grown hands, his rough and solid hands.

The ones that lifted her off the ground as she giggled, the destiny he formed with his own hands. This wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s, his wish for that destiny was to not surf, he was the one who lived that destiny, the one she was put into when she was young and never had another word. She slowly walked over to the hanging board on the rack, the one that had built up so much dust and compliments it irked her. Her gentle fingers brushing over the words once again, before she peeled off the surfsign, this wasn’t her destiny, it was her father’s.

The one that was buried and asked one last wish of his daughter, the one that now stood in her cubby pulling away at the surfsign everyone once called her, she didn’t hate her father, this wasn’t a way of rejecting his path for her, it was her way of starting a new, “What are you doing?” her gaze was distracted by a stranded Goose, he stood there holding a glass full of beer, she hadn’t seen him since the night she spent at his house.

“Starting over,” She answered confidently, she had the music on a low volume for once, “I want a new surfsign,” She was raw with her words, there was no emotion behind her broken tone.

There was no more crack between the chains and her father’s promise, there were no chains to begin with, they were just walls that she used to cover for her fear, her fear of letting her father down, “But you don’t surf,” Goose took a fine, rushed sip of beer before placing it on the counter and just staring at her.

“That’s what the old me used to say,” She wanted to add on ‘And what my father’s Destiny would’ve said,’ but she decided against it, letting the song Kyrie take over the sound that came from the cubby every night.

“Are you telling me you’re going to surf?” Goose had an expression she had never seen on his face, she could read it off as slight confusion, the other seemed to be astonished, perhaps even a little bit shocked.

“I’m not waterboarded,” She reminded him of what he said two nights before, the night where he started prying at her old wounds, the night where she was mere-seconds from throwing her father’s old beat-up radio at that messy stache of his.

“Is that a yes?” Goose asked, he was being cautious, he didn’t want to upset her, but he could tell that the chat they had in Bradley’s room just last night seemed to open her eyes on a lot of things.

“Is Bradley here?” She didn’t give him a clear answer, instead she had wiped her board clean of her surfsign, the one that had been with her since childhood, the one she would have people call her instead of her actual name, the destiny that wasn’t even her own, her false destiny.

“He’s out by the sand, why?” Goose was growing worried, the sudden mood swing, the rejectment of her wanting to touch or even speak about her board with him, to removing her old surfsign and asking for Bradley’s own appearance, to him it sounded like she was asking him if Bradley could teach her how to surf again, especially since she knew she couldn’t stand on the slippery deck of her badly needed waxed board without some assistance.

“I’ll have to talk to him later,” She claimed, throwing the shreds of the sticker into the garbage can beside where she normally stood, “I just have a question for him.”

“Can I ask what that question is?” He was responded with a silent shake of her head while the song she was playing looped once more, he was used to the constant looping that her radio always did, the radio that was breaking down after each song, she was holding a confident conversation with Goose with the music not being the max level, the level where it got static with the bass of the song everytime it reached a certain pitch.

“You’ll just have to wait,” She answered, her eyes watching the clock, she was off early due to her still packing and Penny being so relaxed about her certain struggles, the moment the clock hit her free state she was leaving to think, to plan, to fix her mistakes that had gone over the years she held herself back.

Goose was at a loss of words, Y/N had never been like this, he was used to the relaxed, oddly tense, red faced Y/N that came into The Hard Deck playing her father’s old tunes, the way her expressions used to change when he brought up surfing, the one thing she longed for, the one thing she would beg for if she could, the one thing she promised she wouldn’t do to her weakened father. The one Goose used to surf with on the weekends when Maverick wasn’t around, the man that showed Goose a couple new tricks before disappearing from their weekly bonds, from letting Goose fall apart like his own daughter that stood in front of him.

He could tell something was on her mind, something that he couldn’t understand in his own logic. He was still stuck on the lone thought of why she was trying to remove the memories she had with her father, the one that gave her surfsign. He couldn’t quite put his finger in the right spot, the spot that explained why she was acting so differently from the peaceful night before. The night where she refused Goose of her surfing once more.

He had seen her longing looks, the looks that Penny mentioned everytime he would mosey over towards her lonely corner. The complaints that came from her beloved friend, the one that complained about her poor excuse of a smile because she was clearly facing something beyond Penny’s understanding, Goose hadn’t ever been in the place where his parents left him behind, they wouldn’t ever leave him alone even if he asked for some sort of space. Y/N didn’t need to ask for that space though, she was sitting there pondering, her perch hadn’t stricken her face, the iconic lift of her brow, the look she would give him when she felt judged.

He didn’t know how her father would feel if he stepped inside The Hard Deck only to find his one and only daughter peeling away at the surfsign he had gifted her. He could see the look, the look of freedom in her eyes. Was she doing it because she felt like it was a burden? It was the thoughts that crossed Goose’s mind as he stepped towards her cozy corner, the one where he had taught her to wax boards and sing loudly without fear of judgment. The one where he spilled the information of his own son like fresh salt.

The Y/N that stood before him wasn’t the Y/N that spoke to him weakly about her father and what he knew about him the day before, the brisk glance she gave him saying farewell as she stepped out of the door. He hadn’t noticed the falter, the shift in her emotions, the shift in the promise that vomited from her father’s dying breath. He didn’t understand, he didn’t get it, she wasn’t like Bradley, she wasn’t like his son where he could read the expression and thought on his face.

He used to tell her she thought out loud a lot, the look that would scrunch up at the sight of the water or a simple surfer that came asking for some wax, something small. He thought a lot about the look that Bradley got when the hit from his board accidentally shifted her song, the song that kept her in focus and conversation. Not even the song that was smoothly chiming seemed to be keeping her focus, her eyes floundered, they glanced, they were watching, looking for something.

He remembered how she used to stare at the door when she would fall off conversation, the glance she would give in disappointment. She was looking for someone. Goose knew people could change, they could change drastically, but from going from the days before to suddenly wanting to surf again made Goose’s mind wonder, scramble itself thinking. Why would she want to start something her father swiftly asked her not to do, that is unless those chains of guilt were broken.

Goose had felt those chains, he felt those chains the moment he became waterboarded. The moment he became a beached whale and stopped Maverick from reaching his dream, the feeling of guilt eating alive at the only skin they possibly had left. He could say it was worse than survivor’s guilt, but he had thankfully never had to live through that guilt to say it was worse.

Goose could say she was fading, becoming more a character than he had ever seen. The character he was introduced to was a shallow and heartbroken sailor. The ones that would swoon over their mistakes like children. Now, the woman that stood in front of him was changed, he didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign. He saw this coming, he saw the change in her the moment Bradley handed her the photo of Marshall, the photo that would quite literally rock her world to bits.

She probably thought of why Marshall never brought Goose up, why she had never asked him of her father, he thought maybe she was too afraid to ask a stranger that surfed during her father’s golden age of him. The thoughts of failure, regret, toil, and forsaken energy had been standing there in Goose’s world, taunting him for his mistake of not finding Y/N sooner, not thinking that his disappearance would mean death in most sense.

“You’re thinking out loud, Goose,” Y/N looked at him, she was giving him the look he usually gave her when she pondered too fearfully, “I know,” he gave the brisk answer of what she spilled to him on the night she met Bradley.

“You thought so long, my shift is over,” She had a small snort, she knew she could think like Goose, she had done it tons of times, it made her crack a small smile on how much Goose had picked up on her fragile habits.

“That’s a short shift,” She felt like it was the night she met Bradley all over again, the mention of the short shift, her having to explain the moving process to his old brain all over aga- “I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“You don’t come on..” her words dragged off her tongue as Goose answered swiftly and calmly, “If you’re asking Bradley what I think you’re asking, I’ll be here tomorrow, no doubt.”

Goose had figured her out, he knew she was going to ask him to help her regain her surfing knowledge, she breathed out slowly looking at the look he had stained on his face. She was shocked to know it wasn’t some form of disappointment, but a reassuring soft look in his eyes. The eyes that were the only ones that would glance her way when he wasn’t even looking for surfing supplies.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she answered, she still wasn’t going to confirm nor deny his questioning, the way he was going to figure out what she was thinking, he hummed in response as she gathered her things.

“I don’t think Bradley knows how to teach people how to surf,” Goose looked at her sharply, her eyes going wide at his statement, she knew it was a bold guess coming from his tongue.

“We can just try, I don’t see any issue with trying,” She still wasn’t confirming nor denying, she was just answering, “What if we plan for a different day?” She asked Goose, her eyes pondering over him just so she didn’t have to look him in the eyes.

“I’ll still be there, duckling.”

She knew Goose wouldn’t let up, first the night with the constant asking, and now she knew he figured out what she was thinking of doing, why she asked for Bradley specifically, she wanted someone from the Top Wave Academy to teach her the tricks without having gone to the academy, “Why don’t you want to ask Maverick?”

She knew Maverick was an instructor there, he was the person that probably taught Bradley everything he knew since his father’s accident, but she didn’t trust him that way. She trusted Bradley more than anyone that stood in her small circle of trustee’s. She knew Goose would’ve been up to help her the moment she asked, but she didn’t want to open an old wound of his while hers were just now growing fresh skin.

Bradley seemed like the calmer option, she figured he would be really confused on her question, the question to all questions, but she felt safe around him. Bradley was her music.

A music she couldn’t quite describe with simple words, it was thousands of songs into one person. That’s what she saw in Bradley Bradshaw, a tune that came off a single touch and went through her body like static, she wouldn’t ever forget the oddly familiar tune.

She popped open her phone to the contact labeled Rooster when she had finally stepped out of The Hard Deck, her grasp tight and uncomfortable as she wrote the message. She could see him out by the sand so she knew he wouldn’t see such a text in a while. She typed out her question, the question Goose had guessed just earlier,

‘Will you teach me how to surf?’

#top wave #kloofwriting #top gun maverick #top gun rooster #maverick and goose #bradley x y/n #bradley bradshaw #bradley x female reader #top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #robert bob floyd #natasha phoenix trace #the three mustache-teers #pete maverick mitchell #tgm

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