#Jake hangman Seresin

[knee-high-boots]

so close to watching top gun: maverick and making it everyone’s problem

Reblog to let your followers know that despite your current obsession your previous obsessions still exist and are simply lying dormant until they awaken and strike again

[kcsplace]

(x)

Top Gun Silliness

[military-newsboys]

Weather reporter: Due to the blizzard, citizens were told to stay off the roadways unless absolutely, positively necessary. Mav, being interviewed outside the store: I wanted donuts.

[missathlete31]

Soft Jake Hangman Seresin!!!

[the-ace-with-spades]

So not a lot of people know this but Jake loves random silly decor and trinkets more than anything and has always had a lot of clutter of random items around himself, just on a smaller scale. It's the after-effect of Jake's mom keeping the house in pristine condition and not allowing for any decor that wasn't themed like the pre-existing decor she set up when she was twenty-something - she wasn't an almond mom but like a Texan version of it with a strict tidiness standard, with porcelain sets and old clocks and creepy dolls and flowery wallpaper and old wooden furniture and lace present throughout the house. The family had a color book for buying presents for her, so it'd match her aesthetic.

When he andf Bradley move in together, their house starts looking like a big mismatched mess of different novelty items very fast because Jake refuses to think of their living spaces through any kind of cohesive aesthetics - none of their sheets match, the walls have different colors, they have different types of furniture in any given room, and there's no themes, just whatever Jake liked.

Everyone thinks, given Bradley's questionable fashion sense and taste for bright colors, that it's Bradley who buys all that funky stuff, and they tease him accordingly - he takes the blame because it makes Jake happy.

Random shit Jake buys for their house:

Photo holders shaped like cowboy boots

Croisant cushion that makes it really awkward in their bedroom sometimes

Cock and hen salt and pepper shakers (They say 'hand me the cock' instead of salt after a while...)

Nachos and guacamole platter shaped like a cowboy hat

A mini candy claw machine they have on their kitchen island that entertains kids for ages

Those two Hawaiian shirt drink holders that Jake bought right after Bradley bought another three Hawaiian shirts as a form of protest

A speaker shaped like a camper van that Jake just thought was cute

Candles shaped (and smelling!) like french toast and a cherry pie that are in their kitchen

They also have a whole fruit bowl of cushions on their living room couch:

On top of that, in their bedroom they have a different cactus lamp each, and the tray that holds their dog tags overnight (and eventually their wedding rings) looks like a rubber duck swimming in a pool because Jake loves rubber ducks for some reason:

Jake also has some funky stationery in their office space - none of it sees the outside world because Jake is a grown man and doesn't need crab-shaped stackable highlighters (Bradley disagrees - he is the one who bought them for Jake). The only thing is he uses a variety of sticky tabs when he reads and does paperwork at home and sometimes their unsuspecting CO is reading a training exercise report and gets hit with a chilli pepper sticky notes

[livthelazywriter]

This is so good!!!!🥹❤️❤️❤️

Stop in the middle

Jake Seresin x reader

Two sides of the same coin; they were joined at the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”.

So much wine by Phoebe Bridgers  Somewhere else by Indians Abbey by  Mitski

Warnings: The reader is referred to as she/her, (call sign Angel), with no physical description, crash landing, wilderness survival, major injuries (non-graphic description), discussions of death, happy ending though (I promise!), hurt/comfort, idiots in love, possible Navy inaccuracies, (please let me know if you'd like me to add anything else)

Word Count: 4.7K Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

 Laying in the snow she watches the sun rise inch by inch over the tree line. The sky bathed in a soft orange glow that warms her skin for what she can only assume will be the last time. He’ll hate her for leaving him without saying goodbye, but her voice has already left her and her arms are too weak to shake him from his slumber. 

In the distance the cotton fluff clouds rest on the peaks of the mountains; tremendous contrast so perfectly balanced. She feels each of Hangman's breaths expanding the firm plane of his chest as her breathing grows slower. Two days ago she never would have imagined dying in the arms of Lt. Jake “Hangman” Seresin. 

---

They had taken off at the barest crack of dawn breaking. 0600 hours. It was supposed to be a simple recon mission. Take off from the carrier. Fly over. Survey the valley below—report anomalies. Continue the flight path, and land at a nearby ally airbase. Refuel. Return to the carrier. They'd been tasked with flying similar paths for the last two weeks as part of a larger peacekeeping and security effort. As far as deployments go, they were lucky to have been selected to be the joint task force; and more fortunate to not be engaged in active combat. 

Though Hangman would loathe to admit it with his two confirmed air combat kills, she knows herself that no pilot wants to be under enemy fire or in a position to take a life; it's an unfortunate consequence and frequent reality of the job. 

In the time they’ve known each other, she’s heard Jake speak frequently about his mother and her homemade pie waiting for him in Texas. He tells stories about the boys he used to play football with in high school, and family reunions with little nieces and nephews running about barefoot. She’s heard him making plans to buy a home and settle down. He dreams of a future. Anyone paying attention knows that beneath the outwardly cocky exterior, and adrenaline rushes, he's afraid of dying. 

It wasn't enemy fire that took them down two days ago, but rather sudden major malfunctions that left them without any navigation system, defective coms, and an aircraft almost completely unresponsive to pilot commands. Their saving grace had been Hangman's quick thinking to point them towards a clearing in the tree line, and her decision to dump their fuel as they descended rapidly toward the ground. Flying too low to eject safely they braced themselves for impact, an apology for something he could not have stopped on Jake's lips. 

The sounds of alarms and rapid beeping tones woke them. The smell of burning jet fuel startled them into action again. Jake's head stayed lulled forward his eyes slipping shut again before his limbs burst into action with a level of urgency that forced her to react with equal fervour. She watched wide-eyed as Hangman pushed open the canopy pulling himself up and out of his seat, rolling sideways out the opening. Only in watching his exit did she notice the awkward angle the jet had landed at. The nose crumpled by the force of the impact, their wings clipped and lost somewhere in the trees or across the clearing; the body had slid half on its side, a couple hundred feet through revealing mud beneath and leaving a wake of burning grass melting through the powder white snow. A sharp pain threatened to make her lose her breakfast as she clambered from her seat and the tangle of buckles and straps that had saved her life. She tumbled with purpose but little grace out into the frozen valley. 

“Alright?” Hangman asked standing with his back straight as she doubled over trying hard to catch her breath. She nodded but he didn't make any effort to speak or move giving her a moment to collect herself. 

Sucking in the ice-cold air she ignored the searing pain tearing through her rib cage. Her attention drifted from herself back to Jake who swayed on his feet, the soft crunch of snow sounding beneath his feet as he tried to find a place to stand steady. Watching him pale she only grew more convinced Jake was concussed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Dizzy for sure”. 

“Well, we'll thank our lucky stars we crashed in allied territory. Once we find shelter, I'll run a concussion protocol for you.” 

Their non-functioning radios had left them no way to communicate their mayday calls. They had tried in vain to transmit their approximate coordinates as their headsets filled with static. Their navigation system ran haywire, the coordinates too impossible to be accurate in any case. 

His brows furrowed as he turned to survey their crash sight. His usually bright smile had been pulled into a firm line that confirmed to her they'd be stranded for a while. 

A gust of wind reminded them of how exposed they were in the clearing. While enemy scouts wouldn't be an issue, the potential for hypothermia would be. 

“Map. Compass. Let's grab the chutes from the seats as well,” she suggested. Hangman was uncharacteristically quiet in his agreement, giving her a nod of affirmation as they collected what they could from the jet. 

The sun was still high in the sky above them providing decent light though filtered through bare branches and evergreen limbs. Somewhat guarded from the biting wind they allowed themselves to settle for a moment hoping to find their bearings and build a solid plan for their survival. 

Before they began to plummet they had been about a quarter of an hour's flight from the air base on the other side of the valley. Plotting their estimated crash site on the paper map they found themselves nearly 250 miles away from their destination, walking sun up to sun down would still mean a 2-and-a-half day walk. 

“Look alive sunshine,” she teased as Jake's eyes began to droop. He'd let out a laugh his smile surprisingly bright as he tilted his head back to look at her. “You're so bossy,” he complained. 

“I'm about to get bossier, I've got to make sure you don't have a concussion”. 

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted. 

“Don't sass me Seresin,” she warned, though she tried to keep the tone playful. 

For years they'd played this game; pushing each other's buttons skirting around the edges of flirtation and toeing the line of verbal bullying. Ribbing him was how she had learned to be affectionate towards him. Giving him a hard time made him flustered, or it made him laugh, and either reaction was a well-welcomed sight that had left a fluttering in her chest. The lighthearted back and forth they'd learned to communicate through made it easier to ignore the sidelong glances, and yearning that had begun to take shape beneath the surface. 

“Alright,” she sighed, pulling the tiny flashlight out of her belt, “eyes on me”.

“They usually are,” he smirked. 

With the light, she checked his eyes and got promising results: no abnormal dilation. Both pupils were even and responsive to light. “Today's date?” She asked him. 

“February twelfth”.

“Your date of birth?” 

“October twenty-first. Nineteen ninety”.

“Any headache, nausea, persistent dizziness?” 

He responded no to all the symptoms and she allowed some relief to fill her knowing the initial symptoms had dissipated and not worsened. Finally, she held one finger up waiting for his eyes to focus. “Follow me,” she said her hand moving to the left, his eyes followed. 

“I'll follow you anywhere,” he said as her hand moved to the right. 

“Don't flirt with me, Hangman”. 

“Wouldn't it be stranger if I didn't? I’m just proving I’m not concussed”. His point was somewhat valid but she didn't let him know she thought so, continuing her evaluation in silence.

He's like this with everyone. She'd been telling herself the same thing for years. You're not special. He'll flirt with anyone. A painful truth that's helped her ignore his beautiful green eyes and warm countenance. 

---

Laying on her back in the snow drawing her last breaths now she wishes she could see those eyes one more time as her vision begins to blur. The blue sky swirls into the emerald pines, the colours lightened by the soft sunlight. The colours like sea glass make her think of him and tears begin to gather behind her eyes. “I'm sorry,” she wants to say but only a pathetic whimper leaves her. She wonders if she would have been kinder to him if she had known she was going to die. Would she have been more honest with her feelings? Or pushed them down deeper in some foolish attempt to protect him? The sun continues to rise and she knows he will wake soon. Selfishly, she hopes she’s drifted off before then, unwilling to see him hurting on her behalf. 

---

“Not concussed, but still a pain in my ass,” she had teased him, pushing his hair off his forehead, double-checking for any wounds. He took her words as permission to keep moving. Each of them threw a parachute pack over their shoulders and continued their walk northeast through the woods. 

By 1900 hours the sun had begun to dip beneath the horizon, and the sky above turned a deep blue dotted by tiny spangling stars. Breathtaking and brilliant it had been easy to forget, just for a moment, where they were. She slung the chute of her shoulders towards the ground hissing at the movement. She hadn't had the time to check herself over. Best case her ribs were bruised, at worst she'd find out they were broken, and there would be nothing to help her until they had access to a medical bay anyway. 

“Are you sure you're okay, Angel?” Hangman asked, using her call sign letting her know he meant business. He was not asking as a friend, he was asking as her teammate. 

“Yes,” she lied. The pain was tolerable, only worsening with sharp or sudden movement. Nothing she couldn't handle, and nothing she would force Jake to worry about. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn't be opposed to stripping you down to check for injuries,” his flirtations softened the conversation in an attempt to get her to tell him the truth. 

“In your dreams,” she responded instead, moving along the base of a nearby tree in hopes of gathering some firewood and kindling.

“Quite frequently, actually,” the wink he shot her way repeats in her head even now piercing through the fourth wall of the masquerade they had built, an honest and boyish confirmation that their feelings for each other were something beyond friendship. 

The plethora of fresh fallen snow meant finding water wasn't an issue of concern. Finding food would be more difficult and that first night under the stars they sat watching the flickering flames of the fire they had built, their empty stomachs rumbling with nothing to fill them. 

Stretched between two trees, one of the parachutes they liberated from their wreck was used as a windscreen, protecting them from the cold. The second one lay draped around their shoulders as an extra layer. 

Proximity wasn't an issue for them. They had spent enough time in cramped cockpits together to be familiar with the sounds of each other breathing. They had sat shoulder to shoulder in briefings enough time that she had memorized the smell of his cologne. And yet, when he put his arm around her to pull her closer in their makeshift cocoon her heart stuttered. How could his hands be so strong when her own wouldn't stop shaking? How could a simple touch warm her from the inside out? His fingers brushed along her side with no real pressure, but still prompted a gasp to escape her. Tears left glass trails on her cheeks in the firelight. 

She tried to turn away from him, to feign sleep but he wouldn't have it. “Hey,” Jake caught her attention, waiting for her to look at him before he continued, “We're going to be okay”. 

She believed him. 

---

Everything about their uniforms has been painstakingly designed to keep them safe. 100% cotton undershirts and pants because the material won't melt to their skin in the event of a cockpit fire. But the surprisingly soft base layers have never stopped the blaze burning inside her. From the moment she laid eyes on Jake Seresin she knew he'd be the beginning and the end of everything. He pushed people away with his cocky attitude, somehow convinced that his refusal to be vulnerable would keep him safe from forming meaningful bonds; that he might get further ahead if he had fewer people to let down. But, he'd let her in. He'd let her break down his walls and climb over the fences he'd tried to put up. She'd held him when he got the news his father had died. On a ship thousands of miles from his home he'd told her about his brother dying when he was a child, and growing up in his shadow. He told her how badly he wanted to make his parents proud and how lonely he had made himself in the process. He'd kissed her forehead as they parted that night, and her world changed forever. 

What had been an embarrassing schoolgirl crush she couldn’t shake had become a push-and-pull relationship neither of them could do without. She knew how to put him in his place when he took a joke too far. He knew how to goad her into showing everyone what she was capable of, refusing to let her slip into the background when he knew she deserved more. 

Two sides of the same coin, they were joined a the hip; partners in every way but the romantic. The words “I love you,” had passed between them many times, but neither of them had been brave enough to say, “I’m in love with you”. She wishes she would have said it. Lying at death’s door she remembers being told that you often regret the things you haven’t done more than you regret the things you did. “I’m in love with you, Jake Seresin,” she whispers to the wind. 

---

Their second day of walking was far more painful than the first. Jake had startled himself awake, his eyes wild as he fought to remember where it was they had ended up. The acceptance of their reality hadn't seemed to comfort him and he grew uncharacteristically quiet as they packed up their makeshift camp. The pine trees towering above them had been kind enough to shed some of their cones while they had lay sleeping in shifts. Though they hadn't offered many, they were able to harvest a handful of pine nuts between the two of them for breakfast. It was nowhere near a meal, but the snack had managed to quiet their angry stomachs for a few minutes.

The ache in her side had grown to become a constant agony. What had started as a negligible strain was now a torment that threatened to collapse her with each footfall. Despite the subzero temperatures, a sweat had broken out across her brow, and the heat spreading up the back of her neck left her wanting to strip off her cold weather jacket and flight suit. 

“Have you ever had rabbit?” Jake asked around noon. His footsteps had slowed enough for her to catch up with him. His voice had startled her after all the silence. 

“I can't say that I have,” she answered. A gunshot pulled her from her thoughts and she realized she hadn't ever answered out loud. Jake stood a few feet ahead of her, his service pistol in his hand. The world around her was spinning. The trees blurring together as a sudden wave of nausea filled her. She could hear her name being called; muffled and distorted. Jake. His face soon filled her line of vision. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he told her, but her mind still struggled to put the pieces together. For a moment it felt like she was underwater, all her breath gone from her lungs and all she could feel was the scalding pain burning from the inside out. Momentarily she entertained the idea that it was her who had been shot until she spotted the rabbit lying lifeless in the snow. 

“We need to eat,” Jake spoke again, “you're going quiet on me and I don't like that-- we’ll get some energy in you again before we keep moving”.

The very idea of eating anything threatened to leave her dry-heaving, but she took advantage of the moment to rest. He didn't mention her lack of assistance building a fire or preparing the rabbit, but she watched with incredible focus his hands moving with precision and surprising gentleness for the task at hand. 

She can recall him telling her stories about his childhood, standing on step stools to reach the countertop in his mother's kitchen rolling out pie crusts and later on slicing apples. He once told her that it was his mother who had taught him patience and gratitude while they baked together; two traits he had neglected to exhibit far too often in his adult life. 

She listened to him thank the rabbit for its life as he cut away pieces to feed to her. There was an unmistakable love in the way he moved, his eyes cast over his shoulder to check on her. Slowly, she realized that she was not doing a good job hiding her suffering. In a fleeting thought, she imagined Jake having to carry her lifeless body for the rest of their journey. In their line of work, it had never been considered morbid to have funeral plans from a young age. Flying with him for years she had learned to trust him implicitly, despite the call sign he'd earned and worked tirelessly to recover from she knew early on that he'd do right by her. Challenging authority, but always following the rules; complete and unwavering dedication to whatever task he had at hand; precision and perfection in the execution of his duties be it laundry or taking down a fighter jet midair. As her energy continued to leave her she took comfort in knowing her life would be in Hangman's hands. 

“I'm not hungry,” she said to him. 

“You need to eat,” he insisted again but didn't push any farther. With a longanimity he forgot he possessed, and a magnanimity he couldn't credit himself for carrying he cared for her; making the executive decision to make camp early as her seemingly catatonic state worsened. She managed to chew and swallow bites of the gamey meat, her body grateful for the nutrition.  

Night fell too soon after and the sound of the wind in the trees and the rustle of creatures that may have been lurking left both of them far more on edge than they had been the night before. 

“Scoot closer,” she whispered to him, and he complied without complaint. Neither of them was warm, but their proximity to the fire helped them imagine they could be. His shoulder bumped hers and she leaned her head against him. “Put your arm around me?” She asked. He complied again this time with more hesitation. 

“You know if you wanted to snuggle with me you could've just said so,” he teased though she could tell his heart wasn't in it. 

“I'm scared,” she confessed, a half-truth. She was terrified, feeling her heart rate starting to slow by the minute, her vision slipping in and out of focus. 

“We're going to make it home,” he whispered, both arms wrapped around her now, his lips pressed to her hairline. Tears blurred in her eyes and she gave up fighting back a sob, body shaking and heartbreaking. “I won't let anything happen to you,” he said so sincerely. She cried harder knowing she had already broken that promise for him. 

She had realized she'd lost feeling in her fingers and toes when he'd begun to trace shapes on her back. Her digits buzzed with needles and pins and her limbs had began to feel heavy. Bile rose in her throat choking her as she scrambled to get her distance before dinner made a reappearance. Jake didn't make a fuss, or make his worry known, but she could tell that her perturbation had begun to seep beneath his calm, cool, mien. His hand shook as he rubbed her back hoping her coughing fit might free her off the anxiety and discomfort that had overtaken her. 

She can remember almost every time Jake Seresin has touched her. The memories float suspended in golden warmth, kept safe from the things theyve done, and the things they’ve seen. She holds those moments of fleeting, passing goodness, near to her heart. The smallest reminders that Hangman has a heart; and it’s full of love to give, and on some occasions, she has allowed herself to believe she could be worthy of that love. 

He used to sit beside her in the mess hall no matter how many seats were available; his broad shoulders bumping her own, his elbow knocking at her ribs, their hands brushing as he slid his mashed potatoes onto her plate and she slid her green beans onto his. Silent and symbiotic in their bond, determined to look out for one another. 

The first New Year's Eve they were able to spend together off base was spent with as many friends as possible and too much liquor to handle. Neither of them got a midnight kiss because she was spilling her guts in the alleyway behind the bar, Jake by her side saying “I told you not to do shots after drinking a glass of wine”.  But his satisfied smirk was overshadowed by the genuine concern in his eyes and the steady warm hand he'd placed on her back. “There you go, you'll feel better once you get it all out”. He was drunk himself, his words half slurred but no less encouraging. She had thought then that he was seeing her at her worst. She knows now that she was wrong. 

By some miracle they had been deployed together more often than not. At first it was pure coincidence, but over time it became clear that together they were a dynamic duo with a combined force and efficiency they're commanding officers could not deny, and were often interested in capitalizing on. They had become two halves of a whole, a packaged pair anyone would be disinclined to separate. Still, they had not been permitted to bunk together, and neither of them had ever been interested in breaking the rules of the institution so they never pushed it. But on nights when the creaks and groans of the 900,000 pound ship kept her awake, and the rocking of the waves around them was too much to ignore she knew she'd be able to find him lurking around the corridors as well.

 “I couldn't sleep,” she'd say. “Me neither,” he'd respond. Sometimes, when the world felt too heavy on his shoulders and they'd been away from home for too long they'd find their way to the floor together, his back pressed to hers, their arms circling their knees, and he'd sync his breathing to hers convincing himself that so long as she was their he had some piece of his real life with him. A part of Jake Seresin that wasn't just a pawn in battles bigger than him, he was a man with thoughts and feelings, and dreams outside of his role worth achieving. 

---

This is as good a place to die as any, she thinks.

The parachute that isn't being used to block the wind is still draped over the two of them and she hopes it keeps Jake warm until he wakes. His walk to the base will take him longer now dragging her weight behind him, he'll need his sleep. 

She lets the sound of the wind lull her and she finds that she's not afraid anymore. Just sad; angry even; but not afraid. Her pain is excruciating, and she’s honestly welcoming the relief of a permanent slumber. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. The wind gusts come steadily, growing louder and ever closer. 

Jake stirs beneath her, sitting up her head falling to his lap. “Well would you look at that! No more walking for us,” he grins. Her eyes have shut but she can hear it in his voice, the boy like wonder bursting  the surface. “Angel, wake up,” he shakes her shoulder. The joy that had filled him moments ago has been replaced with a more serious tone, “they sent a chopper for us, honey,” he says, shaking her again, “you've gotta get up,” he pleads with her, but she cannot answer him. His hand is surprisingly warm on the side of her face, and the world goes dark and silent. 

Death is softer than she expected. It's dark still, but her head is resting on something plush, and there's a feel of woven fabric at her fingertips, it reminds her of the blanket Jake's mom had sent to her last Christmas. Her back and her legs feel stiff and she makes no attempt to move them uninterested in exploring this darken world she's found herself in. Her ribs ache but far less than they did back in the snow, the pinch she feels with each breath is like an echoed sound, a pallid reminder of her last moments. 

There's a humming; a mellifluous tune. It drifts in and out, bookended by murmuring she cannot decipher. Come back to me. The words become clear. Angel. Guilt fills her, petulant and helpless as emotion overwhelms her. She wants to move towards the voice, to apologize for leaving but she's not sure she can. I need you honey. 

Jake. Oh, it's so clear now. Jake. 

“Hey, hey, you're okay,” Jake's hands brace her shoulder, and just above her knee willing her to stop flailing her panicked limbs. Her eyes shoot open to meet his; golden green and brimming with tears she wishes she had the strength to stop. The insistent beeping that had filled the room quiets as she relaxes back into the pillows. 

The Navy infirmary isn't anything fancy, but it's far more comfortable than the nights she spent with her back up against the bark of a tree. She has so many questions but they fade out of her mind as quickly as they spark in. Blips of clarity overriden by the need to speak to Jake who is looking at her with more wonder than she's even seen. The man has seen the world from 40,000 feet but he's looking at her like she hung his stars in the sky. 

“Jake,” she manages. 

“Yeah, Angel”. 

Her throat feels like sandpaper, her voice scratchy and raw with disuse, but she fights through it, 

“I'm in love with you,” she says, sucking in a breath that makes her cough. Her lungs feel like they're on fire and she works desperately to inhale and exhale as the ache in her side is reawaken. 

Jake offers her water that manages to swallow down, and when she takes a few shaky breaths without wincing, he sets the paper cup aside. 

She gives him a gentle nod, refusing to meet his gaze. He doesn't let it slide, his forefinger tilting her chin up so she can't hide from him. She envies his confidence, his ability to simplify a scenario. 

“I'm in love with you,” he tells her too. 

[theglenaissance]

Are we digging?

[itsonlystatic]

Good afternoon ladies and gentleman! This is your savior speaking!

My stickers are now live on etsy!

Go crazy!!

[kcsplace]

The true reason for the animosity between Bradley and Jake is that Bradley knows the truth of Hangman's callsign.

It had originally been Slayer, but then, Jake absolutely fucked it landing on a carrier, one of the arresting cables snapped and it went to shit fast. Just as it looked like he and the plane were gonna junk it into the ocean, the undercarriage got tangled in the cables, and the jet ended up danging over the side, with Jake inside hung out to dry.

From that moment on, Jake's callsign was changed to Hangman.

Between a judicious use of threats, coercion and charm, Jake managed to keep his name out of the scuttlebutt about the whole thing. The story spread far and wide, but his name didn't.

Except for Bradshaw. Bradley Fucking Bradshaw who was on deck when it happened. He was impervious to Jake's attempts to get him to forget the whole thing, but for years it has been the Sword of Damocles for Jake.

He really is quite concerned about the day Rooster comes off his perch and blows Jake's whole reputation to smithereens

[universitypenguin]

I love their banter so much. The chemistry between these two is amazing. Excellent job! 🥰

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Bagman

warnings: none.

summary: the cute blonde pilot trying to get your number. and you’re Maverick’s daughter, btw.

a/n: hi to anyone who’s reading this, its my first post so i hope you like it. This might be the first part to a small serie about how you and hangman fall in love. Anyway, enjoy. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READER’S POV:

Being back home felt strange, like traveling back in time. I remembered how, when I was a kid, my dad and Uncle Goose would sit Bradley and me on the piano and play and sing for hours. Now, here I was, standing behind the bar helping Penny on a busy night.

The Hard Deck was packed—classic for a Friday night. The jukebox music blended with the chatter of the crowd. The place had been full of naval aviators for over an hour, most of them still in uniform, using it as a strategy to attract women. I recognized a few faces—besides Bradley’s—since I had snooped through my dad’s files on the pilots he’d be training.

“What do I have to do to get the pretty girl behind the bar to give me another round?” one of the pilots asked, leaning his elbow on the bar and placing his empty beer bottles in front of me.

“Maybe you just need to ask nicely,” I said with a smile, grabbing the bottles to swap them for fresh ones. His uniform tag read “Seresin”. He was one of my dad’s squadron members. I wouldn’t deny it—he was very attractive: blond, green eyes, and every bit the charming prince. “Here you go, handsome.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, taking the beers but staying put, leaning against the bar more comfortably. “And if I wanted your number, would I just have to ask nicely for that, too?”

“Is that the line you use on all the girls?” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You think I’m one of those guys?” he said, pretending to be offended as he took a sip of his beer, never breaking eye contact. “Ouch.”

“I know pilots. You all pretend to be charming and different from the rest,” I replied with a sigh, wiping the bar with a rag. “You think you’re irresistible and that every girl falls for you—even with a stupid mustache, like Rooster’s.”

He glanced over, laughing, and spotted Rooster playing pool with the other pilots.

“The problem is, you’ve only met Chicken. I’m way better than him,” he said, making me pause and lean on the bar in front of him. Bradley had already told me about him.

“You must be Bagman,” I said, laughing.

“Hangman, sweetheart,” he corrected instantly, winking. Okay, he was very attractive. “How do you know my callsign?”

“Oh, trust me, I know way more than you think,” I said, winking back before turning to serve some other guys who had come up to the bar for refills.

It took me about five minutes to serve everyone, and the whole time, I could feel his eyes on me as he sipped his beer, patiently waiting for me to finish.

“So, since you know who I am, maybe you could reconsider giving me your number,” he said, leaning closer from the other side of the bar.

“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re ready for it.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad walk in and head straight for the bar to take a seat.

“Hey, darlin’. You know my usual,” my dad said with a smile.

I started preparing his whiskey the way he liked it, aware that Hangman was still waiting at the bar.

“I think I’m more than ready. It’s not every day I meet a gorgeous girl like you,” Hangman said. “All I’m asking for is your number—or at least let me buy you a drink.”

I laughed, shaking my head. Poor guy had no idea what he was in for. I garnished my dad’s glass with a slice of lemon and set it in front of him.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

“No problem, Dad,” I replied, turning to face the blond pilot with my arms crossed. He took a sip of his beer and nearly choked.

“Dad?” he asked, glancing between me and my father.

“Is there a problem, Lieutenant?” my dad asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“No, sir.”, he replied, pressing his lips together.

“Then you’d better keep your fake charm away from my daughter,” my dad added.

I burst out laughing and leaned over to swap out the pilot’s beer.

“I told you, you weren’t ready for my number,” I said with a smirk before walking away to serve someone else. After saying goodnight to my dad, Hangman finally moved over to the pool table where Rooster and the others were.

“Poor guy, Dad. You scared him,” I said, approaching my father.

“I don’t care. No one’s good enough for my little girl,” he said, rubbing my arm affectionately. “Besides, if he’s really interested, he’ll have to work for it.”

The rest of the night passed quietly, picking up glasses and serving drinks until Penny told me I could clock out. Every now and then, I caught the blond pilot glancing my way, and I couldn’t deny I felt a little disappointed when he backed off after realizing my dad would be his coach. Maybe he was a jerk, like Bradley said.

After saying goodbye to Penny and my dad, I grabbed my denim jacket and stepped out of the Hard Deck. My ears welcomed the silence after the noise inside. As I walked toward the street, I heard someone coming out behind me.

“Hey, wait,” Hangman called out. “Have you reconsidered giving me your number?”

“You never quit, do you?” I laughed, crossing my arms.

“Not when it comes to the prettiest girl in the bar,” he said, mimicking my stance and stepping closer.

“You don’t even know my name—and I don’t really know yours, either, Bagman.”

“Hangman. And it’s Jake,” he said, closing the distance between us and extending his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jake,” I said, shaking his hand. Mine was noticeably smaller than his, but they fit perfectly.

“Now that we’re properly introduced…” he started, still holding my hand.

“If you figure out my name, maybe I’ll give you my number,” I teased, pulling my hand away. “Goodnight, Jake.”

I took a few steps away and glanced back at him. He stood there, shaking his head and laughing softly, hands on his hips.

“Hope you’re free tomorrow night, sweetheart,” he called out loud enough for me to hear as I walked away.

“We’ll see, Bagman,” I replied.

__________________________________________________________

JAKE’S POV:

“Give me 200 more, Hangman,” Maverick shouted with a grin on his face, standing in front of me. This man was enjoying himself.

“What’s up with you, man?” Fanboy asked after finishing his push-ups. “Is it because of that girl last night? The one who didn’t give you her number?”

“She’s not just any girl, dude,” I replied between sets. “She’s Mav’s daughter.”

“No way,” my friend said, laughing. “Maverick’s daughter is what’s got you so distracted today?”

“Shut your mouth,” I muttered, noticing Rooster laughing at me from a distance.

By the end of the day’s training, we were all in the locker room, peeling off our flight suits. While everyone else was chatting about who should buy drinks tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not just because I didn’t get her number—though, to be honest, that didn’t happen to me often—but because she was truly stunning. I knew that the more I saw her behind the Hard Deck bar, the more she’d catch my attention.

“So, Hangman… last night you met Daddy’s little girl,” Rooster teased as he pulled on a clean T-shirt, followed by one of his ridiculous Hawaiian shirts. “Must be the first girl who didn’t fall at your feet.”

“Don’t start, Chicken,” I shot back, slamming my locker shut and leaning against it, arms crossed. “I’m sure that happens to you all the time.”

“You wish,” he said. “At least I can call her whenever I want.”

Rooster closed his locker and started walking out of the room.

“Don’t you dare, Bradshaw. I saw her first,” I said, following after him.

“God, how old are you? Eight? What is this, ‘I saw her first’?”

“Shut up, will you?” I sighed. “I can’t deny I’ve been thinking about her all day, and I don’t even know her name. But you, my friend, are going to help me.”

I threw an arm around his shoulders playfully, and he shrugged me off, pushing me away.

“So now we’re friends?” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Y/N would never go for you anyway.”

“Y/N,” I repeated, biting the inside of my cheek with a grin. “Even her name is cute.”

“She’s not going to be one of your one-night stands, got it, Bagman?” Rooster said, walking toward the exit again.

“Come on, Bradshaw, I just want to take her out to dinner,” I said, trailing after him.

“Why don’t you ask Mav for her number? I’m sure he’d be thrilled to give it to you.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Chicken. I’ll buy you a drink too if that’s what you want.”

Bradley let out a laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll buy all my drinks this week, and I’ll give you her number,” he said, challenging me.

“You’re insane. I’m not paying for all your drinking this week.”

“Then I’ll call her and ask her out myself,” he said, pulling out the keys to his old Bronco and heading toward it.

Was it worth paying this idiot for Y/N’s number? Even knowing she might turn me down again—and that her dad would punish me in every damn training session? Screw it. I’d take the risk.

“Deal,” I said, catching up to him at his truck.

“What?” Rooster asked, incredulous.

“I’ll cover your tab this week, as long as you give me her number and stay out of my way, Chicken.”

The idiot just laughed, pulling out his phone and typing on it. Seconds later, I got a notification—he’d sent me her contact info.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Bagman,” he said, climbing into his truck. “And just so you know, I wasn’t planning on asking her out. She’s like a sister to me, you idiot.”

“You’re an asshole, Bradshaw,” I shouted as he drove off.

______________________________________________________

READER’S POV:

I had just gotten out of the shower when my phone started ringing. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” I answered, putting it on speaker while wrapping myself in a towel.

“Hi, Y/N,” said a voice on the other end. It was the blonde pilot from the Hard Deck.

“How did you get my number, Bagman?”

“It’s Jake to you, sweetheart,” he said. Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he had that stupid grin on his face. “So, are you finally going to let me take you to dinner?”

“Don’t you ever get tired?” I asked, sitting on the edge of my bed.

“Not when it comes to the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I laughed and stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“Pick me up in 30 minutes. I’ll send you the address,” I said, smiling.

“At your service, ma’am..” he replied, and I hung up.

It was just dinner with Hangman. What could possibly go wrong?

[military-newsboys]

Ice: Can you keep a secret? Mav: Sure we can. Ice: "We?" Mav: Yeah, me and Goose. No one else will know. Ice: No, I want you to know, but not Goose. Mav: If you don't want Goose to know why are you telling me?

[georgiabulldogsfan37]

[knee-high-boots]

the final act of tgm is something so special to me

1. mav running a fucking MILE through SNOW just to shove rooster. he doesn’t even check to see if he’s really ok, just BAM

2. “we don’t even know if that bag of ass can fly”

3. mav trying to teach rooster how to get the plane in the air, like he knows a n y t h i n g

4. *thonk* “why are the wings coming out mav.”

5. just every line from rooster is absolute gold, he’s such a sarcastic asshole when he’s not being angsty as hell

6. how did they get off that taxiway?? most definitely impossible??

7. *iconic top gun ~dong~* “maverick.”

8. “there’s 300 breakers back here, anything more specific?” “idk that was your dad’s department” “i’ll figure it out” YES YOU WILL! GOOD JOB!! SELF CONFIDENCE ROOSTER!! don’t mind me crying over here, i still refuse to watch the original bc i don’t want to watch goose die but YOU GO!

9. rooster and mav waving at enemy planes like absolute FOOLS

10. i love watching planes spine and do weird shit, yay planes!!

11. “what the FUCK was that?!?!”

12. “c’mon mav, do some of that pilot shit!” as if rooster is not, himself, a pilot

13. rooster, floating, “HOLY SHIT” your honor i love him!

14. how did we go from snowy mountains to rolling green hills? have we been here for 3 months??

15. hangman managing to hit both the plane and the missile at the same time? dare i say hot?

16. mav doing a flyby cause he’s a dick

17. “please don’t tell me we lost an engine.”“alright. i won’t tell you that”

18. why are they always so goddamn sweaty??

19. lady gaga’s “hold my hand” save me lady gaga’s “hold my hand” 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

20. oh my god just tell your surrogate son/father that you love him!! it’s not that hard you’re just stubborn!!

honorable mention 21. i want rooster and amelia to have a cute little sibling relationship! please!

honorable mention 22. the sexiest part about this movie is the porsche penny is standing on at the end

in conclusion, tgm is blatant propaganda for the u.s. military, and while it works to make me love sexy men flying sexy planes, i still believe we’re giving FAR too much money to the military and have a passionate hate for the government!! tom cruise is also really weird and scientologists can actually suck so much dick!! but thanks tom cruise (i guess) for giving us miles teller with a mustache and glen powell as a lovable asshole!

[ereardon]

Thanks for reading @double-j !!

Snowed In || Sunday [Jake Seresin x OC]

A Jake Seresin AU miniseries

Summary: When a massive storm shutters every airport in New York, you receive an unexpected call. Jake Seresin, the ex-boyfriend of your college roommate, is stranded at JFK with nowhere to go. Somehow you find yourself hosting Jake for a long weekend in your studio apartment. What happens when you realize that maybe your long-standing hatred for him was covering up something else? 

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC [Ella Finnley]

Trope: Forced proximity; enemies to lovers

Warnings: Cursing, references to cheating, eventual smut

Wordcount: 4.4K 

Masterlist here; Part two aka Saturday here

Jake reeled back from your slap, his face pink from the cold and the heat of your palm as it smacked his perfect tanned skin. His clear green eyes were wide with shock. 

“Ella, I—”

“No.” You shook your head, hair whipping at your cheeks. “What the fuck, Jake? You can’t run down the street like an inmate who escaped from Alcatraz and then just kiss me. You can’t spend eight years hating me and making fun of me and then turn around and say actually, no, that was all a facade, it’s because I’m a five year old boy who doesn’t know how to say he has a crush.” 

You could feel heat rising to your face despite the cold and your voice echoed off the nearby buildings. The few people who were within spitting distance turned their heads at your raised voices. 

“Are you doing this to embarrass me?” you demanded and to your horror, a small tear rolled down your cheek. You were surprised it didn’t freeze as it trailed downward. “Pretend to like me so that I fall for your charm and then when it’s over you just leave? Or maybe if I come onto you then you’ll back away and mock me. Is that it, Jake?” 

“Honey, no, absolutely not.” Jake stepped closer, holding out one hand hesitantly before pressing it to your cheek, thumb sweeping away your tears. “Ella. I meant what I said. No ulterior motives.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

Jake sighed, running his hand through his hair. The rush of cold air hit your face hard as he removed his hand. You had to give it to him. He looked distraught. If Jake Seresin, golden boy, was even capable of looking that way. “I don’t blame you,” he said after a moment. His eyes searched yours. “I’m sorry, Finn. For letting you think that I spent the last decade hating you. Couldn't be further from the truth.” 

“What’s the truth, Jake?” you gasped, air freezing in your lungs on its way down. 

“I think you know,” he whispered. 

You shook your head, backing away. “No. If there’s one thing the last twenty four hours has shown me, it’s that I don’t know you at all.” 

And then you were turning around, taking off down the street, following the path you had just chased Jake down but in reverse, eyes watering from the speed and the freezing wind whipping at your face and Jake’s voice calling after you was just a whisper that got picked up and sailed away in a gust.

You burst through the double doors of your apartment building. Gerry looked up, surprise lacing his weathered face. “Miss Ella. Everything OK?” 

You shook your head, heading for the elevators. “Do you believe in timing, Gerry?” 

“Yes, I do,” he replied as you pressed the button, finger shaking. “Met my wife at a New Year’s Eve party forty-three years ago. She was there with someone else and I was too. But it didn’t matter. It was the right place and the right time and everything since then has worked out in our favor.” 

You looked up at him. “That’s not helping, Gerry.” 

He smiled. “So he loves you.” 

“Never said that.” 

“Don’t need to say it,” he replied. “I can see it in your face.” The sound of the doors flinging open turned both of your attentions. Jake stood, barely winded, cheeks pink, eyes wide. Gerry added, “I see it in his, too.” 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Gerry held out one hand, pressing it open. 

“Goodnight you two,” he said. “Stay warm.” 

You stepped inside. “Goodnight, Gerry.” 

Jake stepped forward slowly, entering the elevator, his eyes trained on you, your eyes glued to the buttons on the far right wall. It was an agonizing ride up in silence. The heat from Jake’s gaze alone was enough to thaw you and by the time the two of you had ridden up five floors you were a melted puddle. 

After you unlocked the door and stepped inside, Jake stood, hesitating, on the threshold. 

You frowned. “What?”

He sighed. “I’ll leave, Ella. I’ll get out of your hair. But I just need to say one more thing.” 

“Where would you go?” you demanded. “It’s midnight and the city is practically shut down, Seresin.” 

Jake put his hands in his pockets. “I bought a unit in One57 last month.”

Your jaw went slack. One57 was one of the unbelievable skyscrapers on 57th Street aka Billionaires’ Row. It’s the most expensive building in the city, towering over the base of Central Park. Your eyes narrowed. “You’re fucking with me.” 

“I’m not.” 

“How could you afford that?” you demanded. “You can’t even afford a hotel.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Ella. I never said I couldn’t afford a hotel. I said you were my only option.” 

“That wasn’t true then,” you replied. “You have a fucking twenty million dollar condo sitting forty blocks north of here that’s probably filled with furniture that you’re not allowed to touch.” 

“It was partially true,” Jake said. His voice was much calmer than yours. His eyes were soft. Begging. This was Jake Seresin begging, you realized. “I spent years thinking that you were the one that got away, Ella. I had to come back and make sure of it.” 

Your breath caught in your throat. “And?” 

Jake stepped closer, crossing the threshold into the apartment. “Ella Finnley. I’ve enjoyed myself more the last two days than I have in the last five years. I came back because I thought that maybe there was a chance you’d be able to see me more as more than the douchebag that I was in college. That maybe you would be willing to look past who we were and focus on who we are now. You don’t know this, but I never stopped thinking about you.”

All you could feel was your heartbeat in your chest, the pulsing in your fingertips and neck and near your ear. Was this really happening?

“You’re intelligent and you’re so fucking sarcastic and you don’t take anyone’s bullshit and I couldn’t believe that when you opened the door on Friday that it was really you and that someone else hadn’t scooped you up years ago. And I thought maybe this was it. Maybe this was my chance to be happy.” 

“You’re rich,” you whispered, the words still sinking in. “You’re telling me that you, Jake Seresin, aren’t fulfilled?” 

He shook his head. “None of that shit matters, Ella. The money, the cars, the nice restaurants, the fancy clothes. You get sick of it after a while. I’d rather come home to this apartment every single night and sit on that uncomfortable couch with you and watch you read romance novel after romance novel and eat ramen noodles than go home to an empty apartment overlooking the park. Any fucking day.” 

“Jake.”

“It’s OK,” he whispered. “You don’t feel the same and I get that. Maybe I was stupid to try.” 

You stepped forward, closing the gap between the two of you, your chest practically grazing his as you breathed unsteadily. He was so fucking beautiful that it made you uncomfortable. “You are stupid,” you replied and Jake grinned. “That was never a question."

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he murmured, “and you’ll never have to see me again if you just answer one question.” 

“What is it, Seresin?” 

“Do you believe I changed? If not for you, just in general? Because that’s all I ever wanted, Ella. To be the kind of guy who was good enough.” 

You looked at him. How many times had you snuck sidelong glances at Jake Seresin while he and Suzannah were together? He was hot, even back then. Bronzed, muscular but not beefy, sweet Southern accent rendering anything he said charming with a side of cocky. Maybe you had only told yourself that you hated him because it was better than admitting the alternative. 

That you wanted Jake Seresin. But he hadn’t been yours to have. 

And now here he was, standing in front of you, begging for a chance. Asking if you saw his growth and change. Admitting that he had spent years of his life bettering himself so that one day he could stand in front of you a changed man and receive a simple acknowledgement. 

“Ella,” Jake whispered. “Tell me to go and I’ll go. I think this was a mistake.” 

“The mistake would be leaving before you convinced me why I should give you a chance to start with.” 

Jake smiled. “Convince you, huh?” 

You nodded. “I don’t know if you know this about me, Seresin, but I’ve been known to be stubborn.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is,” you said slowly, reveling in the way Jake’s gaze never left yours. “So go on, Seresin. Why should I believe anything you’ve said in the last thirty minutes? How do I know it’s not some elaborate prank?” 

“You don’t,” he said. “None of us do, Finn. Life is a big cosmic joke. I’m just doing what we’re all doing. Trying to find that one person to spend your life with. Trying to find the person who makes you excited to get out of bed, the person you can’t get out of your head. The one person who sees you after everything you’ve done and still sees your potential, even when it was a bad day. The person who wants to celebrate with you on the good ones, too. The person who has more faith in you than you have in yourself.” 

“That’s a lot to put on a person, Jake,” you whispered. 

“I know it is, honey,” he murmured, raising one hand, skimming it along your cheek. “I can’t expect you to feel all those ways about me. Especially since up until yesterday I think you hated me. But tell me the truth. Do you feel differently about me right now, standing here, compared to yesterday when I showed up at this same doorstep?” 

“Yes.” It was automatic, the way the word tumbled out of your mouth.

He grinned. “Then anything is possible, Finn.” 

“You mean falling in love with you, Seresin?” 

“Maybe.” 

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re still cocky.”

“I’m working on it,” he murmured, hand sliding from your cheek, fingers wrapping slowly around your neck, thumb pressed tightly under your ear. “What do you say, Finn? Want to give me a chance?” 

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” you said softly, closing the gap between the two of you as Jake’s fingers on your neck tightened and suddenly his lips were on yours, his hand on your waist bending you backward from the force of his kiss. Jake swiveled you around, closing the door with one hand, pressing you against the wall both gently and firmly at the same time, his free hand locked behind your head, cushioning you. 

Jake slotted one thigh between your legs, pressing upwards gently until you found yourself moaning into his mouth as he grinned. “Fuck,” he murmurred, pulling back two inches, resting his forehead against yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about that.” 

“Ten minutes,” you replied. 

Jake pulled back further, shaking his head, tracking one thumb pad over your swollen bottom lip. “Ella. Try ten years.” 

“Jake,” you murmured. 

He shook his head. “It’s OK if you don’t feel the same way,” he said quietly. “But if you want to stop, tell me and we stop.” 

You reached out and grabbed his collar, tugging him back in. “Don’t stop.” 

And then Jake’s mouth was on yours, his hands roaming over your chest and settling on your waist, pulling you in tightly before reaching down and hoisting you into his arms as you giggled. You didn’t even care that Jake’s shoes were tracking dirty snow into the apartment or that your jacket was brushing against the comforter as Jake sat you down gently on the edge of the bed. He stepped back, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his shoes and you did the same, pulling your sweater overhead, locking eyes with Jake as you unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying out of them before settling back on the bed in a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra. “Fuck,” he murmurred, closing the gap between the two of you, his mouth hot on your neck as his fingertips pressed against your side. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

 “You going to compliment me all night, Seresin?” 

Jake pulled his lips from where they had slid down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” he said confidently. “And you’re going to like it.” 

You flushed. “Then at least take your pants off.” 

Jake smirked, standing up and unbuttoning his pants, sliding them off. With one hand he grabbed the back of his shirt behind his neck, tugging it overhead in a single motion. You couldn’t help it. You gasped. Jake Seresin looked like a marble carving that would sit in the Louvre. 

He was stunning. 

Jake leaned in, shifting you further onto the bed, his lips grazing your breasts before dipping lower, trailing a wet line of kisses down to your navel. “Like what you see?” 

“Shut up,” you groaned, but the words turned into a string of moans as Jake’s mouth landed on your panties, warm breath heating between your legs. He knelt on the floor next to the bed in his tight briefs, fingertips scraping along your sides, one hand squeezing your breast before he slid the silky material to the side, exposing your soaking core. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, leaning back to admire you. 

“Jake,” you whined, and he felt his heart start to rapidly beat in his chest. 

“I got you,” he murmured, sinking down, pressing his lips to your core, tongue darting out, spreading flat against your folds, tasting you for the first time. He hummed against you and you wiggled, but his hands held your hips steady, tugging you forward, consuming you. He was everywhere: his mouth on your clit, his tongue in your folds, his fingertips dragging along your hip bone under one sank deep inside of your walls, curling at the top, beckoning you to come. 

And you did. Unraveling at his touch, your moans filling the air as Jake plunged his fingers inside of your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your folds until you cried out. “Fuck!” 

Jake stood, hands still on your thighs as your chest heaved. Finally you pushed yourself up onto your elbows. There was an obvious tent in Jake’s tight black briefs. 

You smirked. “Want some help with that?” 

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours harshly, with one arm scooting beneath you and tossing you to the top of the bed as you let out a yelp. “You’re going to be the death of me, Finn,” he murmured, lips suctioned to your neck as you lifted your hips, brushing your soaking core against his hips. He was hard and you were desperate for him, your hand reaching out and grabbing him. Jake’s head collapsed against your neck as you smoothed your fingers over his bulge. “Fuck, Ella,” he whispered, voice thick and husky. “God, I want to be inside you so badly.” 

You pulled your hand away, shimmying off your underwear. “I need you.” 

Jake sat up. His green eyes were wide. “Sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words come out of your mouth.” 

“Don’t make me beg, Seresin,” you whispered. 

“Wouldn’t dare.” 

Jake crawled out of his boxers and you had to stifle a gasp. His cock was thick and long, practically dripping with anticipation. He pulled your legs so your hips were closer to where he was kneeling on the bed, running the tip of his cock along your folds as you whimpered. 

“Condom,” he muttered.

“Top drawer.” 

Jake leaned over, opening the box as you undid the hooks on your bra, flinging it onto the floor in the living room. He sat back, seamlessly rolling a condom over his cock, fisting himself a few times, eyes trained between your legs. Finally, Jake lifted his gaze to you, hand still sliding up and down his length as he panted. “I’ve thought about this so many times.” 

“Please,” you whispered and Jake hinged forward, sliding the head of his cock against your entrance until it hooked inside of you, pressing in slowly as you moaned. “God, yes, oh, fuck!”

“Doing so good,” he murmured as your legs spread further to accommodate him. “Almost there baby.” 

Jake pushed the final inch in, stuffing you full. Your eyes flew open. Jake had one hand pressed to your cheek, the other resting on your leg, pulling it higher over his hip. Your mouth opened as he pulled back, pushing into you again, setting a soft, delectable rhythm. It was just you and Jake and the sounds of your body slowly coming together and backing away, over and over as his cock brushed your inner walls, begging you to come against him. 

“God you feel so perfect,” he groaned, fingertips pressing your thigh back further, letting his cock slide deeper inside of you. “I could live in your pussy.” 

You cried out as Jake brushed against your g-spot. He shifted his hand to your clit, pressing down gently and your eyes widened, Jake’s hips snapping against yours as his fingertips swirled on your swollen clit. “Oh, my God,” you breathed.    

“Come for me, please,” he begged, chest glistening with sweat as he thrust harder into you. “Please, baby, need to feel you coming while I’m inside of you.” 

“Oh, oh fuck!” you screamed as Jake pressed down, hard, against your clit, your vision going white for a split second as you broke apart along his length, shuddering, cursing as Jake grabbed your hips, driving his cock against your fluttering walls. 

“Ella, oh fuck! Jesus Chris, I’m gonna come!” And then he was filling the condom inside of you, collapsing so his chest was pressed against yours, his hips stuttering as he tried to slow his rhythm. “Fucking hell,” Jake whispered, rolling off of you gently, tugging off the condom and disposing it. He turned back, running one hand up your side. “You’re perfect.” 

And even though you were two orgasms deep, it had been almost a year since you had been touched before Jake. So when you leaned in to kiss him and his cock twitched against your bare leg, you smiled, pulling away. 

“What’s that look, Finn,” he asked. 

“Lay back,” you whispered, raking your fingertips down Jake’s rock hard abdomen, his cock already hardening against his thigh. 

“Oh, shit,” Jake muttered as you leaned down, taking his length into your hand, dribbling a ball of split onto the tip, massaging it over the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb. He laid back, eyes squeezed shut as you took him into your mouth, Jake’s fingers buried in your hair as he gasped, releasing himself against your throat, filling your mouth. When you pulled back, swallowing, wiping one thumb over your lips, his eyes fluttered open and he shook his head. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

After showering, the two of you fell into a tangle on the bed. 

“This is so much better than the couch,” Jake whispered. 

“Go to sleep, Seresin,” you complained, his hand spread warm against your lower stomach. 

Jake pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

Sometime just before sunrise, you woke up and looked over. Jake looked peaceful, golden hair spread out on the white pillowcase, one arm slung over the side of the bed, slumping down toward the ground, bare back and ass cheek visible from where he had thrown the covers off. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined you’d be asleep, naked, next to Jake Seresin. That you would be able to tolerate being alone with him at all. 

But two days had changed everything. 

***

The sound of yelping woke you up a second time. The room was bright, light streaming in from the windows. You couldn’t tell yet if it was the brightness of snow or the winter sun blaring through. 

Next to you, the bed was empty. 

There was the yelp again, coming from the kitchen. Jake emerged a minute later wearing a pair of boxers but no shirt, carrying two cups of coffee. The minute he saw you sitting up, the covers pulled up around your bare chest, he grinned. “Morning Finn.” 

“What are you doing in there?” you asked. 

“Frying bacon,” Jake replied, setting down the coffee mugs on the nightstand to your right. Just as you raised your nose to sniff in the air, he grabbed your face with both hands, landing a kiss right on your lips. As if it was the most normal thing in the world. Like the two of you had woken up together for a hundred weekends in a row. When he pulled away, you felt your breath catch. Was this what it was supposed to be like? “Stay there,” he commanded. “And don’t you dare get dressed.” 

You leaned back, the sheets tucked beneath your arms, and grabbed one of the coffee cups as Jake scurried back to the kitchen. A few more yelps later and he emerged with a plate of bacon, two muffins and scrambled eggs. “Where did you get this?” you asked, picking up a piece of bacon and sliding it into your mouth. “Fuck that’s good.” 

“Snuck out while you were snoring.” 

You slapped his bicep and he chuckled. Jake was so muscular it didn’t even affect him. You let your fingers linger there for a moment before pulling them away. “I don’t snore.” 

“You do,” Jake said, a piece of bacon sticking out of his mouth. “It’s cute.” 

“No snoring is cute.” 

“Anything you do, Ella Finnley, is adorable.” A blush crept up your neck toward your face. You realized for a moment you had no makeup on. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this close to a man without makeup on. 

“Wait.” You frowned. “You went out this morning?” Jake nodded. “What about the snow?” 

“It’s gone.” 

“What!” You rushed out of bed, practically tripping on a corner of the rug, smashing your hands against the window. 

Jake was right. The streets which the night before had been layered with snow, were clear. Instead, they had been replaced by the usual threads of traffic: honking taxis and black town cars and every Toyota under the sun filled with Uber drivers. The sidewalks were congested once again. 

It was like the storm had never happened. 

You looked over at Jake, eyes wide. That was it. The magic of the snow was gone, replaced by the smell of the subway steam hot on the grates and hordes of pedestrians cluttering Fifth Avenue. 

Jake got out of bed, grabbing his henley shirt from where it was folded on his suitcase and handing it to you. You blushed, realizing for the first time that you were butt ass naked, standing in the middle of the room. The shirt was soft as you pulled it overhead and smelled like Jake: coffee, cinnamon, vetiver. The sleeves were long and you balled the excess fabric into your fists. 

This was the part of the movie where the princess turned back into a pumpkin. 

“Jake, I—”

“I’m staying,” he said, his words overlapping yours. 

“What?” 

“In New York. I’m leaving San Francisco,” he said. “That’s why I’m here. I’m moving my company’s headquarters out of the Bay and into the city.” 

“Company?” 

“I own FreeTek.” 

Your head felt heavy. Congested. FreeTek was one of those Forbes 100 companies. The kind with billion-dollar valuations and IPOs that they had billboards for in Times Square. It was a tech company that also helped to build schools in Africa and Central America. 

Your eyes boggled. Jake reached out, one hand cupping your neck gently. “Ella. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“We don’t even know each other, Jake,” you replied. “You’re just some guy that my roommate used to fuck.” 

He looked hurt, lips pressed into a line. “We know enough,” he said. “And what we don’t know, we’ll learn.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“It could be.” 

“Fuck, Seresin, I don’t know, OK. Two days ago I hated your guts.” You looked up at Jake and he chuckled. “One really good fuck can’t change everything.” 

“Really good, huh?” 

“Don’t be so proud,” you said. “It had been a while. I probably would have gone home with Raji, the bodega guy in about a week if you hadn’t come along.” 

“Does Raji kiss you like this?” And then Jake’s lips were on yours, his hands traveling down your back, pulling you in tight, holding your chest to his. 

When the two of you broke apart, he brushed the hair from your face before letting go, taking a step back. 

“I waited ten years, Finn,” he said softly. “What’s another week or another month?” 

“What do you think is going to happen in a week or a month?” you asked. 

Jake grinned. “You’ll realize the fairytale doesn’t end here, Ella. You and me, that’s how this story ends.” 

You shook your head, reaching out, wrapping your arms around Jake’s neck, tugging him in close. “God you’re a conceited dick, aren’t you?” 

“Yes.” 

You rolled your eyes as Jake smirked. “Alright, prince charming. Let’s go see this palatial apartment of yours.” 

Jake slipped his arms around your waist. “Is it bad I’m hoping there’s another storm so I can trap you inside again and have you all to myself for another weekend?” 

You looked outside. The sky was perfectly clear. Blue skies and small puffy clouds as far as the eye could see beyond the buildings. It was as if the snowstorm had never happened. 

And then, so fast if you had blinked you would have missed it, a snowflake drifted in your field of vision, hovering in the air outside your fifth-story window. 

You grinned. “Be careful what you wish for, Seresin.” 

Jake kissed the top of your head.   

Tag list [using my list from The Off-Season since it's my most up-to-date Jake list but if you're not interested in these types of fics just let me know!):

@double-j @topguncultleader @momc95 @hangmandruigandmav

@teacupsandtopgun @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @blue-aconite @seresinhangmanjake @eminyourjeans @shawnsblue @babyminghao @sadpetalsstuff @angelbabyange @taytaylala12 @wkndwlff @mygyn @oneelleandaneye @averyhotchner @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @rxmtoon @valkyrja-siren-blog @horseshoegirl @abaker74 @clancycucumber230 @theharddeck @redbarn1995 @shanimallina87

@memeorydotcom @joaquinwhorres @bobfloydsbabe @gretagerwigsmuse @djs8891

@blackcatdhisgf @buckysteveloki-me  @eli2447 @bellaireland1981 @seresinslady @hookslove1592 @shotclock24seconds @fanficfandomlove @ryebecca @onceupona-happilyeverafter-love @t8r-tots

[50calmadeuce]

Ch. 6: The Landing (R)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my own imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, so please do not copy it and claim it as your own. As always, I hope it gives you happy thoughts :)

After a couple of hours in the air, Jake smoothly lands the plane and taxis it into his hangar. Once the engine quiets, he gestures for you to remove your headset and unbuckle. You start fumbling with the buckle as Jake hops out, walks around, and opens your door.

Noticing your struggle, he leans in, his fingers brushing yours. "Here, let me help. For some reason, this one likes to stick," he says, his tone warm. With a quick jiggle, the buckle releases. "There we go."

You offer him a shy smile. "Thank you."

"Darlin'," he replies softly, extending his hand. You take it, and he helps you out of the plane with a gentle steadiness. As he shuts the door behind you, the space between you shrinks, leaving only a few inches separating you from him.

"I really enjoyed that," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you again."

Jake's gaze softens, his lips curving into a smile. "Anytime."

He flashes you his signature Seresin grin—the one you’ve grown so used to. "Glad I could make you smile. Doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing that much since you got here."

You meet his gaze but stay silent, your thoughts swirling too quickly to find the right words.

You instinctively step back, only to realize the plane is behind you. Jake braces one arm against it, effectively boxing you in, though his posture gives you just enough space to escape—if you wanted to. But did you?

Your pulse quickens as he leans in closer, the air between you thick with anticipation.

"Jake, I don’t…" you begin, your voice unsteady and unfamiliar, dipped in a huskiness you didn’t know you possessed.

Before either of you can take the next step, your phone rings, shattering the moment. The familiar ringtone snaps you back to reality, and you instinctively reach for your pocket, your mind already racing.

Jake grimaces because you know he’s heard that ringtone before too. “Please. Don’t answer it,” he begs.

“I’m sorry. I have to.”

He sighs unhappily, but steps to the side and starts checking over his plane.

You pull your phone from your jean pocket, letting out a quiet sigh as you glance at the screen.

"Hey, Abby," you say, trying to steady your voice and mask the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

"Hey, Doc. Just wanted to call before our flight takes off," Abby says, her voice light and cheerful. "We should be there in about five hours."

"I'll be at the airport waiting for you guys," you reply, keeping your tone steady as you turn slightly, trying to mask the excitement flickering across your face from Jake.

"Great! See you then," Abby replies cheerfully before the line goes dead.

You lower the phone, staring at the blank screen for a moment before slipping it back into your pocket, aware that Jake's eyes haven’t left you.

"Jake, listen," you begin, your voice tinged with sadness as you meet his gaze. "I had a really great day, but… you don’t want to get involved with me."

Jake strides over to you, his hands gently resting on your upper arms. "Darlin'," he says, his voice soft yet firm. "You keep saying that. I made that decision the moment you walked into the bar with Phoenix a few days ago."

You lift your head, meeting his intense green eyes, filled with concern and something more.

He pulls you closer, his face mere inches from yours, his gaze unwavering as he speaks again, his voice barely a whisper. "And I’ve been trying to tell you that the past couple of days too."

Before you can respond, his lips find yours—warm, soft, and full of tenderness.

You close your eyes, completely surrendering to the kiss, the feeling of being wanted and cherished rushing through you. It had been so long since someone made you feel this way.

Jake slowly pulls away, his voice thick with longing. "Lordy. You don’t know how bad I’ve been wanting to do that."

Just as the heat of the moment settles, your phone rings again. Jake looks toward it, shaking his finger playfully. "That thing though…" With a final glance at you, he walks away.

You pull the phone from your pocket, your heart racing as you glance at the screen. It's the call you've been waiting for. You answer it quickly.

"Mr. Whitaker. What have you got?"

"Y/N. Christian left everything perfectly clear. The money is yours. There's nothing she can do. Also, we found another clause he added."

"You did?"

"He must've thought about having a family with you, because Christian Junior is set too. He wrote in how she breached her marriage contract after his father's death. She can’t touch him."

The excitement bubbles up inside you, and you jump up and down in pure joy. "Mr. Whitaker! You have once again made me a very happy person. Thank you!"

"She can fight you for the sperm though."

You laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. "She can have it. I don’t care. File a temporary restraining order for both me and Christian Junior. I’ll be home in a week and a half."

"Will do, Ma'am."

You hang up the phone, practically bouncing over to Jake, whose expression is a mix of confusion and curiosity. Without a second thought, you grab his arm, your excitement spilling over.

"Come on. We have to go to Phoenix's house. I'll explain when we get there," you say, pulling him along with urgency.

Jake quickly locks everything up, his brows furrowed in curiosity, but he follows without question. Together, you leave the hangar, the weight of the news still buzzing in the back of your mind.

Tags: @smoothdogsgirl @alwayshave-faith @devil-angel-winchester @khouse712 @illisea @hookslove1592 @tgmreader @juliemarauderfan @djs8891