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They🥰

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Birds Away - Hangman x Female Pilot Reader (1/X)

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination.

For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards.

Until you got to Fallon.

Chapter 1 Summary: If anything, it all seemed to click now - it was less that he had a type, and more that all those other girls seemed like knock-off versions of you.

Pairing: Hangman (Top Gun Maverick) x Female Reader

Tag List: Comment or message if you want to be added!

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mild Sexual Commentary

Word Count: 4600+

A/N: For those new to my blog or don’t know much about me, I grew up in a very Navy-heavy town (Newport, RI) and my sister, brother, and boyfriend are all in the Navy. I hope you all enjoy, and for anyone who read Sugar and Spice, I hope to try to keep the chapters a little shorter this time!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy the fic and any reblogs/ questions/suggestions/comments are greatly appreciated!

Also, the COVID-19 pandemic does not exist in this world.

Keep reading

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Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

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She got PTSD... (pussy that's so delicious)

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Cyclone and Warlock reacting to Maverick for @boasamishipper

Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

Bonus:

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kiss your fingers (hangman x reader)

paring: jake 'hangman' seresin x fem!reader

synopsis: sometimes the best way to shut you up is to fill your mouth (not in that way, you cheeky reader) (it's actually worse)

wc: 1k

warnings: 18+ ONLY, explicit sexual activity (piv, unprotected sex, finger sucking, mention of spanking, dom/sub vibes, semi public sex, mention of potential threesome & cum play lol, literally pwp)

I got to talking with someone about someone's hands and fingers and... well, you can figure out the rest. enjoy this shameless smut! (side note I appreciate all the angst prompts you guys sent my way! I'm wrapping up a long WIP and then I'll get right on those <3)

all my fics go out to seasonsbloom & gretagerwigsmuse ty for all your love <3 sorry im dedicating this filth to you guys 🥴

It’s most definitely all your fault - but in your defense, you didn’t really see things panning out this way. 

Sure, wearing Jake’s favorite sundress to Rooster’s housewarming BBQ was teasing him enough as it was. Squeezing by him in the crowded kitchen and letting your ass press hard into his semi might have been a bit too far. But the kicker was sauntering up behind him as he watched Bradley man the grill, murmuring something about needing his car keys and digging around in his front pockets only to leave something instead. Something lacy. Something slightly damp. 

You didn’t think Jake would immediately be on your heels as you made your way back to the house. You figured he’d just grab you from behind, whisper in your ear about what a naughty girl you are, then let you be - but you always seem to forget Jake’s number one rule. 

Don’t start what you can’t finish. 

Now, he’s got you sitting up on the bathroom counter after fucking you through one orgasm, lips eagerly pressing kisses to your hot skin, cock sliding in and out of you gloriously, hand kneading one breast that’s fallen out the front of your dress. Your ass teeters on the edge of the cold marble, which soothes the raw skin on your buttcheeks. The two of you are lucky the exhaust fan drowned out the smacks of Jake’s earlier punishment, but there’s no way it’ll cover up your moans once Jake really starts pounding you. 

You’re gasping, biting into your lip so hard it’s sure to draw blood, holding back your whines as best as you can but still letting a few escape. Jake leans his head into your shoulder, positions his ear right next to your mouth, greedily pinches your nipple to pull another breathy moan from your lips. 

“That’s right, such a naughty slut. Think you’re clever, pulling a stunt like that? Thought you could get away with it?” he grunts out, moving his hands down lower to grab your hips harshly and pull you into him so that his thrusts go harder, deeper inside of you. A pool of slick is sure to form at the edge of the counter, and for a fleeting moment, you hope it won’t be too bad to clean up afterwards. 

An especially hard thrust has you keening, distracts you from the mess you're making. “Jake,” you whimper, reaching a hand up to muffle your sounds.

“Oh sweetheart, why don’t I take care of that for you?” Jake pulls his head back, looks at you viciously, brings his hand up to caress your cheek gently. His thumb lands right on your mouth, presses in slightly, and you purse your lips to press a small kiss to it.

At this, his thrusts slow down. Jake smiles, eyes crinkling ever so slightly, but he shakes his head. His thumb presses in harder. "Open," he commands, and you look up at him curiously, parting your lips ever so slightly without giving it a second thought..

His thumb slides into your mouth, warm and firm, hooks downward, presses hard on your tongue. "Close," he says, and you obey, licking the pad of his thumb and sucking lightly. Jake lets out a low moan, closes his eyes and pistons his hips a little harder, more forcefully. He keeps one hand anchored to your waist, keeping you upright, and his other hand remains glued to your cheek.

It does a good job of keeping you quiet - you're moaning around his thumb and sucking hard on it. When the tip of his cock grazes that spot inside of you, it has you bite down on his digit a little harder through a whimper.

"One second, sweetheart," he says, pulls out of your mouth, watches as a string of spit connects from your mouth to his knuckle. He chuckles lowly, appraises your fucked out look before pressing his index and middle fingers back into your mouth, further down so that they barely graze the back of your tongue.

"Here you go. Is that better?" he coos, smirking ever so slightly as you nod, whine a little more for him to go faster. "Think I'm getting close, sweetheart. Should finish up before they come looking for us."

At this, you suck hard on his fingers, let out a particularly loud muffled moan as your eyes roll back. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he grunts out, feeling your cunt clench down on him hard. "Maybe you'd like Rooster to walk in on us, see you sucking on my fingers like the slut you are? Maybe he can join us, eat my cum out of your pussy first before fucking you? Think I like the sound of that."

Jake's punctuating each sentence with an impressive roll of his hips - his pelvis smacks against your clit every time, sends waves of pleasure radiating throughout your body, makes you impossibly wetter. At this point, he starts fucking his fingers into your mouth, letting his knuckles catch before pushing them back inside, groaning out obscenities mixed with your name.

His cock twitching inside of you and the sting of his pelvis on your clit is overwhelming, overpowering. Because you aren't in the sanctuary of your home where you can scream and moan as loudly as you want - you're in Rooster's guest bathroom, the backyard is filled with other pilots, and you have to keep quiet. You have to be good for Jake.

"There's my good girl, so fucking pretty with my fingers in her mouth. Shit, I'm close, I'm gonna cum," he groans out, stuttering his hips before pressing his long cock into your and releasing hot spurts inside you, twitching all the while. As best as you can, you muffle out "Jake," around his fingers, tumble from a high of your own as you feel his warmth fill you up. Your nerves come alive, your back arching so that your head hits the mirror behind you, your heart thumping and your body all too aware of Jake's cock stuffed inside wet pussy and his fingers plugging your mouth. Your orgasm shakes you to your core, leaves you numb and sends vibrations trembling through your limbs.

Jake slides his fingers out of your mouth. “So lucky to have such a pretty girl,” he marvels, pressing a sweet kiss and caressing your cheek with a soft hand.

The two of you catch your breath, chests heaving and foreheads touching and Jake’s cock softening inside you. You look up to meet his heavy gaze, press your lips to his mouth so you can kiss him passionately. Your tongues slip together, and you taste the whiskey and cinnamon on his breath mixed with the tang of your release from earlier. Much earlier. How much time has really passed?

Rooster's exasperated voice sounds out from the hallway. “Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”

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Yeah just Yeah. Stumbled upon a article on past Celebrity AllStar Games. Just damn, I can’t think.

Rooster and the Dagger Team on a charity softball game. Do what you will with these images. Image 1 is definitely Coach Rooster trying to be supportive and encouraging but he secretly wants to win and rub it in the SEAL team’s faces.

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Not Today, Satan Top Gun: Maverick (2022)

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Got this from Twitter.

Prince Charming???

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That smile.

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im not religious but ill get on my knees for you

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Ah yes, a 3some fic with my morning coffee, what a time to be alive.

Is Rooster a…cuck? 😏

hi lovely <3 congrats on 500 !! seems only right considering how beautifully told each of your stories are

i’d like to request threesome w/ bf!rooster and a shy bob for the bingo 💗 if no one else has already requested :) much love

♡ pairing ; bf!rooster x reader x bob

♡ wc ; 800

♡ warnings ; explicit language; explicit sexual content (threesome, little bit of a dom/sub dynamic, mentions of cumplay, unprotected sex, idk?)

♡ note ; .... this is the stuff you people make me do, I'm going to go to hell :(

“That feel good, baby?”

Bradley’s voice sounds from somewhere above you, somewhere by your head, somewhere from the darkness. You’re too turned on, too tightly strung, too wired to really locate it. Not that it matters, anyway - all that matters is that he’s there.

It’s a blur how any of this even happened. 

Maybe it started at the Hard Deck, started with you bending low over pool tables, started with your hand on Bob’s arm, started with your lips against his ear, started with Bradley watching from the bar, started with you marvelling at how Bob blushes the prettiest shade of pink. 

Or maybe it started weeks before that, with a whispered confession into Bradley’s shoulder at the pinnacle of the night, with a burning face and a beating heart. I kinda wanna fuck Bob. 

Or maybe it started with Bradley catching you around the waist, drawing your back against his chest in the middle of that bar, voice low in your ear, hands steady on your back, words not angry, not possessive, only curious, saying, What are we playing at here, baby?

Or maybe it started with the three of you in your bedroom, with your clothes already on the floor and Bob and his pretty pink, pink, rosy blush and his eyes on you like you’re an apparition or a miracle or something awe-inspiring, something blinding. With Bradley sinking into the armchair by your bed, legs spread wide, face expectant, saying, So, you gonna let me watch him fuck you stupid then, baby?

Maybe it doesn’t matter how it started.

What matter is this: You’re nodding, and then you’re whining, face pressed into the sheets in a way that’s going to leave imprints behind. With how you’re bent over, on your elbows and knees, you can’t get any purchase, can’t hold onto anything, go sliding across the mattress at every thrust.

Fingers thread into your hair and tug, a sharp prick of pain that spreads from your scalp and makes you yelp. Then it’s Bradley tutting, saying, “Use your words, sweetheart. You like Bobby fucking you?”

Your own whine is drowned out by Bob’s moan. You can’t see him either, but you can feel him - around you, behind you, above you, inside you. His cock is stretching your walls, his thighs bracketing your own, his hands soft and tentative on your hips, as if he isn’t sure he’s allowed to touch you even as he’s literally balls-deep in you.

Bob has always been a bit of an enigma. It’s part of his charm.

“Yes,” you whimper, know lying to Bradley is futile. He knows you so well, knows what you want before you say it, knows you like a poem he’s memorized, like the opening notes of his favorite song, knows you like his own reflection. “I love his cock.”

Bob’s hips stutter, his cock jumps, and he makes a sound like he’s a few seconds from choking. He loses the rhythm he established before - something measured but deep, the head of his cock grazing that spot inside of you that punches stars into your eyes. He fucks different than Bradley, not that that’s much of a surprise. A little more careful, a little more calculated. Bob is all caution where Bradley is confidence.

Caught between them, it’s like a fire that will eat you alive.

Bradley hums, and the fingers in your hair go tender for a moment, soothing against your scalp, before he lifts your head from where you’ve buried it in the sheets. And then it’s Bradley’s familiar face swimming in front of you, distorted by your desire, by your tears, by the heat of it all. He smiles, his mustache lifting, his thumb following the rivulet of drool on its path down your chin, leans in and presses his lips to yours for just a moment.

He draws back, ignores your whine and, without looking away from you, says, “Bobby, you close?”

“Yeah,” Bob answers immediately, voice barely more than a gasp, a breath, a sigh, fingernails digging into your hips, cock thrusting unrelentingly into you. “Can I… can I cum inside her?”

You whimper at the prospect, clutching handfuls of the sheets, eyes going to find Bradley, mouth dropping open, looking at him in a way you hope he understands. Hope he can read what you have no strength to say: Please, Bradley. Please say yes.

And Bradley smiles, because Bradley knows you, better than you know yourself, knows you so well it scares you, smiles and lets the tips of his fingers wander across your cheekbone, pushes his thumb into your mouth and onto your tongue, watches as you suck without being told to.

“Yeah, Bobby,” he says without taking his eyes off you. “Cum inside so I can fuck it back into her.”

Like this, you don’t mind burning.

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HOLY SHIT THIS IS SOOO GOOD!!!

Thank you so much for indulging me! BRB while I watch the beach scene again for the hundredth time!

Hi May, you awesome human being with mad Hangman characterization skills! ❤️

Can I have a “fake dating” from the board with Hangman pleaaase? 🥺

♡ pairing ; hangman x female!reader

♡ wc ; 900

♡ warnings ; explicit language

♡ note ; i'm sorry this took me forever :((( thank you so much!

“The way I see it,” Natasha says, tipping her face back into the sunshine, “there’s really only one option.”

You’re tanning on the beach, spread out on your towels. The scent of sunscreen and salt tingles in your nostrils as you brush grains of sand off your shins.

“How so?”

Natasha starts counting them off on her fingers, and says, “First, you can’t take Bob, he’s way too shy. Second, can’t take Rooster, he’d take this shit way too seriously.” A single finger remains in the air and you stare at it with a mixture of disgust and pure, unadulterated dread. “Which really only leaves one option.”

“Don’t even say it,” you mutter. 

She shrugs, but you can see her cheek denting in where she’s biting the inside to keep from smiling. “I’m just saying. Do you know anybody more dramatic than Hangman? He’d eat being your fake boyfriend up.”

You scoff. “Natasha,” you say, “if this is part of your stupid plan to get me to date Hangman…”

“I just think it’s a little pathetic that you still insist you don’t have a crush on him.”

You don’t even know what to say to that, so you clench your teeth so hard your jaw aches with it. 

Two weeks ago, your ex shot you a text to invite you to his engagement party. A fucking text. And there’s just no way, no way in hell you’re showing up there solo, with nothing but a congratulatory Tequila bottle tucked under your arm, basically saying Hey, look at me! Right here at your perfect engagement party to your perfect fiancée with your perfect job and perfect family and perfect life and, yeah, right, by the way, I’m still single, still a loser, still not engaged, still definitely maybe a little bit totally in love with you, and definitely not moved on with my life!

Yeah. No thanks.

Once more you let your eyes wander over the pool of prospective dates for the night. They’re playing volleyball, all of them shirtless and so ripped it’s ridiculous. Like a weirdly sexual Old Spice commercial. Even Bob has taken off his shirt, revealing the pale shoulders spotted with freckles.

You pretend your eyes don’t linger on Jake and the stupid patch of chest hair that always makes you a little dazed.

With a hint of desperation in your voice, you say, “What about Payback or Fanboy, they…”

“You barely know them,” Natasha interrupts. “The party is tomorrow, that’s not enough time to teach them how you take your coffee and what your favorite movie is. It’d never work.”

“You think Hangman knows what my favorite movie is?”

“Clueless,” Jake says, throwing himself down on the towel next to you. He leans across you to steal your water bottle, his leg pressing against yours, still wet from the leap he just took into the ocean. Cold droplets of water drip onto you and you shudder. “Paul Rudd is your celebrity crush to this day.”

You blink at him, and Natasha thrusts a hand forward in the international sign of see, I told you!

“So what are you ladies talking about?” Jake asks, taking a few greedy sips of your water before leaning back on his elbows. You’re definitely not staring at the movement of his throat or the rippling muscles in his abdomen. You are a woman of integrity and class. “Apart from me, of course.”

“Nothing,” you say, the same moment Natasha says, “Our girl here needs a fake date to her ex’s wedding.”

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper, flicking your sunglasses down over your eyes and fighting back the embarrassment that rises up like bile at the back of your throat. “Thanks for having my back.”

You can feel Jake’s eyes on you. “Bad ex?” he asks.

For a second you consider not answering him, but then you sigh, draw your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around them. Shrug. Say, “The worst.”

Jake nods. “Black tie?”

“Semi-formal.”

He clicks his tongue. “I got a suit lying around somewhere, I think.”

Your heart stutters. Slowly, you turn to face him, go criss-cross applesauce, your knee bumping into his hip, blinking down at him through the veil of your tinted glasses. “You’d come with me?”

“Sure thing.” He stretches across your towel, folds his hands behind his head. “I’m the best-looking guy in the county. You wanna make your ex jealous? I say you go best of the best. Cream of the crop. I say… you go Hangman.”

“God,” you mutter, even as your heart gives a tentative little jump. “And here I was thinking you were being selfless for once. This is a real ego boost for you, isn’t it?”

Natasha snorts.

But Jake just laughs and, without looking at you, says, “Sweetheart, I’d jump off a cliff if you were the one asking me. Even though I don’t see how giving this body to the sea would benefit anybody. I should be cast in bronze and put outside of public libraries.”

He sounds so sincere it throws you for a loop for a second. You clear your throat, trace a pattern into the sand and then finally say, “Pick me up at seven tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there.”

It takes you a moment, but finally, you say, “Thanks. You’re really saving my ass here, Hangman. I don’t know how I’ll ever make that up to you.”

Jake’s mouth curls up into a lazy smile. “I can think of a few ways.”

Yeah, you bet he can.

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Can I ask you a personal question?

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

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Mood; by Bob Floyd

Courtesy of @lewispullmaned gif set

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Ooohhh I noticed this as well! Growing up around military you’ll witness the class divide between officers and EPs, also the strict observance of hierarchy and seniority. Those junior officers are in the bottom of the officer food chain. I’ve witnessed them do menial tasks like making coffee, cleaning bathrooms, taking care of a senior official’s kid, etc.

It kinda bothers me that no one seems to talk about them or thank them but they talk about Tom Cruise every chance they get lol

What’s an unpopular opinion you have about Top Gun Maverick?

Oh man. I might get some hate for this but it’s something I’ve talked about with my family and friends in the Navy and we’re all in agreement so 🤷‍♀️

I wish the cast would spend more time in their interviews thanking or mentioning the hundreds to thousands of sailors that made this movie happen. I’ve seen plenty of cast interviews at this point where they talked about how cool it was to do the trainings, how secure filming was on the bases, how it was so awesome getting to be on the ship. They mostly credit Tom Cruise and just talk about how cool the experience was.

What you don’t see in the background of those are the hundreds of junior sailors working day and night with little pay and little sleep to make sure the ship, the base, the planes are good to go. The cast lived in DV rooms and used officers’ bathrooms and showers on the ship - you know who cleans those rooms and showers? You know who makes the food they eat? Who cleans the whole ship and the gyms they used? Who takes the trash out of the rooms? Junior sailors. Junior sailors are the backbone of the Navy - and TGM.

The one person I’ve seen talk about this is Glen Powell, because he at this point has developed a relationship with the Navy and naval aviation. I’d love for the cast to give more credit and spotlight. Sure, it’s cool that they got to act as Navy pilots for a bit. Let’s acknowledge the sailors that got them there.

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when the guy you literally hurled outta the bar for not being able to pay his tab turns out to be your new instructor.