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thewulf · 2 months ago

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When the Laughter Stops || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - I was wondering if you could do one with Jake Seresin where him and the reader are co workers (but they liked each other a lot and are idiots) and she flirts with him a lot, like constantly and he mostly just laughs it off but flirt back sometimes, but she suddenly stops one day and is very quiet and he's worried... Read Rest Here

A/N: Gosh I just love Jake. I really hope they make another TG movie with our boy in it <3 Thank you for the request @stuffingbuttsandshit

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k+

T/W : Violation (Not Jake), Talk of Weapons, Talk of break in

Mornings at North Island always started the same way.

Your headset was already on, comms running smooth as you relayed flight data to Mav and the rest of the squadron. You had everything under control because that’s what you did. You were the best at what you did. And you knew it. You didn’t spend years at the Academy and across the country to be mediocre at your job. You were good and you knew it.

Jake Seresin knew it too.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” came the familiar, honey-dipped drawl over your shoulder before he even stepped into the control room. You grinned into your headset. He was right on schedule as always.

You didn’t turn around immediately instead letting the anticipation hang for a second longer before glancing over your shoulder. He was leaning against your desk, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with that insufferably handsome smirk that was as much a part of him as his damn callsign.

“Hangman,” you greeted, flashing him an easy smile. “Looking as sharp as ever. It must really be exhausting carrying around that much charm all the time.”

His smirk deepened as he took you in. “It is, actually darlin’. But I manage.”

You made a show of giving him a once-over. That green flight suit zipped halfway, dog tags resting against the fabric of his undershirt and that confidence oozing from every pore. Annoyingly attractive, you noted. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. But damn, the man was hot as hell.

“Good thing I’m here to keep you humble,” you teased while tapping your earpiece as the radio crackled.

Jake leaned in slightly, just enough that you caught the faint scent of his aftershave. The scent curled through the air: rich sandalwood, and cedar laced with smoky vetiver and that deep warmth of amber and musk. Dark, refined, and impossible to forget. Just like man who wore it. And who was currently staring a hole in the side of your head.

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t wanna do that. What would you flirt with if I wasn’t around?” He gave you a devious smirk as his eyes traced your face.

You arched a brow, lips curling. “Oh, I’d manage.”

He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head like you were something impossible. “Damn shame sweetheart.” This was the rhythm. The effortless push and pull. The game neither of you called by name but both played with unmatched skill.

“Seresin, you done harassing my officer?” Maverick’s voice cut in from across the room with nothing but amusement lacing in his tone.

Jake straightened slightly but didn’t look away from you. “Just making sure my sweetheart starts her day right, Mav.”

You shot Mav an eyeroll before turning back to Jake. “Aw, how sweet of you Jake.” You cooed at him.

Jake hummed, tilting his head. “Sweet’s not usually what they call me, darlin’.”

The way he said it, low and teasing, sent a thrill up your spine. But you didn’t let it show. Instead, you reached for the mission brief on your desk, casually brushing your fingers against his arm as you passed it to him.

“Guess I’m just special then,” you said with an easy grin.

His eyes flickered with something. Something unreadable. Something dangerous. But the moment passed as quickly as it had come.

“Guess you are,” he murmured. His voice softer this time.

And just like that, he was gone, heading out to brief with the others, leaving behind the faintest trace of his presence. You exhaled, shaking your head to yourself. Yeah. This was the rhythm. At least, it had been. Until everything changed.

Until last night.

Until you woke up to the sound of your front door creaking open.

Until you reached for the bedside drawer, heart pounding, breath shallow, fingers closing around the cold metal of the weapon you kept there. The weapon you dreaded ever having to use.

Until you saw him. A dark figure standing at the foot of your bed, a knife glinting faintly in the sliver of moonlight filtering through your curtains.

Your body had moved on instinct, years of training kicking in before fear could fully take hold. The moment you pointed your weapon at him, he hesitated just long enough for you to move. You sprang from the bed, voice sharp and unyielding, ordering him to back off. And then just as quickly as he had come he was gone. Like a wraith in the night.

The cops arrived minutes later but it didn’t matter. He was already long gone, leaving behind nothing but an overturned chair, a shattered sense of security, and the lingering imprint of fear in your bones.

You barely slept after that, sitting with your back to the wall, weapon still gripped tightly in your hands until the sun started to rise.

And now you were here, at work, trying to pretend like nothing had changed. But Jake knew you too well. So, when he walked into the control room, expecting your usual teasing grin, expecting the flirtation that had become second nature between you. He immediately noticed the difference. You were at your desk, headset on, posture stiff, eyes trained on the monitors like they held the secrets of the universe. No smirk, no playful roll of your eyes when he approached. No wink. No greeting.

And that was the first sign that something was very, very wrong.

Jake frowned, slowing his stride. He leaned against your desk, arms crossing over his chest in the same lazy way he always did, waiting for you to acknowledge him. Nothing.

He tilted his head. “Morning, sweetheart,” he drawled, watching for a reaction.

Your fingers stilled on the keyboard, just for a second, but then you resumed typing like you hadn’t heard him. His frown deepened. Okay. Maybe you were just busy. Maybe Mav had you swamped with flight schedules or logistics nightmares. Maybe.

But then he really looked at you.

Your usual fire, the effortless confidence that made your job look easy was gone. In its place was something tight, something controlled. He followed the subtle tension in your shoulders. The way your jaw stayed clenched even as you kept working. Something wasoff.

“You sick or somethin’?” Jake asked, lowering his voice, trying to meet your gaze.

You finally looked at him but the second your eyes met his you blinked quickly and dropped them again. “I’m fine,” you said too flatly. Too rehearsed. With no emotion in the usual boisterous voice of yours.

Jake’s stomach twisted. Bullshit. You weren’t fine. He knew fine, and this wasn’t it. But what he didn’t know was why. For the first time since meeting you, Jake felt the shift. The invisible wall you’d put up overnight, cutting him out without warning. And he hatedit. Where there should’ve been fire, there was only silence.

Jake tried to ignore it at first. Maybe you were just having an off day. Maybe you were tired. Maybe whatever had drained the light from your eyes would pass on its own.

But as the day dragged on, he knew that wasn’t the case. You barely spoke, sticking to clipped, professional responses when you had to interact with him or anyone else. You kept your head down, shoulders drawn in. It was so unlike you. It made his skin itch.

Then, when someone brushed past you in the hallway. Just a casual, harmless pass. You flinched. It was small, barely noticeable, but Jake saw it. And that was all it took. His blood ran cold. He knew that reaction. Had seen it before. And it sent every instinct he had into overdrive.

The rest of the day, he didn’t leave you alone. Not in a way that would spook you, but he made sure he was always nearby, always watching. You barely acknowledged him and that was the final crack in his patience. By the time your shift ended, he was donewaiting.

You had just stepped outside the hangar when he caught up to you. He moved fast enough that you had no choice but to stop. "Sweetheart," he said. And this time his voice wasn’t teasing, wasn’t lazy or smug. It was quiet. Steady. Serious.

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “Jake, I—”

“Something’s wrong,” he cut in. His green eyes searching your face. “And I need you to tell me what it is.”

Your breath faltered. You didn’t answer right away but the way your gaze darted away. The way your lips pressed together like you were afraid to speak made his stomach twist. He softened, stepping closer, his voice dropping even lower. “Hey. It’s me, alright? Just me. You can tell me.”

You swallowed hard. And then finally your walls started to crack. “I—” You exhaled shakily, like forcing the words out might break you. “Someone broke into my house last night.”

Jake went still.

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you continued. “I woke up and he was just there. He had a knife… I think he would have tried to grab me. But I fought back, I scared him off but…” You sucked in a breath. Shaking your head unbelieving that this had even happened to you. “He ran before the cops got there. They haven’t found him. They won’t find him most likely.”

Jake’s fists clenched. His entire body went rigid. His jaw locking so hard it ached. Jesus Christ. The thought of you alone, terrified, fighting off some bastard in the middle of the night made his vision go red. He wanted to break something. No, he wanted to findthe bastard who did this. But right now, none of that mattered. Right now, you mattered.

Carefully he reached for you. His fingers grazing your wrist before he slid his hand fully over yours. His grip was firm, grounding. Warm.

“Jesus, darlin’,” he murmured. His voice tight, lethal with restrained fury but when he looked at you again all he let you see was the concern. The unwavering steadiness. “You’re safe now, okay? I promise you, you’re safe.” And for the first time all day, your body eased just a little. Just enough.

You weren’t sure who moved first. One second, you were standing there, raw and exposed with your confession hanging in the air between you. The next, Jake’s arms were around you, solid and steady, pulling you against his chest. And you let him. The moment his warmth surrounded you, the breath you had been holding all day broke free in a shaky exhale. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his flight suit, gripping tight, grounding yourself in him. Breathing in the woody scent that always seemed to coat him.

He didn’t say anything at first. Just held you. And God, you hadn’t realized how much you needed it until now. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. His voice a low, steady rumble against your ear. “You’re safe. No one’s scaring you again, I swear it.” You knew his words weren’t empty promises, weren’t meaningless reassurances. They were a vow.

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, one hand lifting to cup the side of your face. His thumb brushing lightly along your cheek. “You’re not staying at your place alone tonight.” He said with such conviction.

You blinked up at him. “Jake—”

“Not a chance, sweetheart.” The smirk was there, but softer, missing its usual cocky edge. He tilted his head. “You really think I’m gonna walk away after what you just told me? Not a chance darlin’.” Your resolve wavered. You should tell him you’ll be fine. That you don’t need him hovering. But the idea of being alone in that house, of walking through those doors and feeling that fear claw at you again…

You swallowed hard and nodded. “I have a guest room,” you murmured. “You can take the guest room.”

Jake’s smirk deepened. “Whatever you say, darlin’. I’ll sleep on the porch if you want.” You smiled softly. Jake had a way of doing that for you. Charming bastard he was.

Jake didn’t waste a second when he got to your home. The second you stepped inside he was already moving. He checked the locks, testing the windows, making sure every single point of entry was secure. You stood off to the side watching as he knelt by your front door, brows furrowed in concentration as he worked to reinforce the deadbolt.

“You know,” you said while crossing your arms, “I could’ve called a locksmith for that.”

He glanced up, flashing you that signature Jake Seresin smirk. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to prove to you that I’m useful outside the cockpit.” You rolled your eyes but for the first time all day there was the tiniest tug of amusement behind it. And Jake saw it. Reveled in it.

After he was satisfied that your place was Fort Knox-level secure, he finally let you settle. The tension still lingered, though thin, stretched tight under your skin. He noticed it in the way your shoulders stayed rigid. In the way your fingers curled slightly like you were bracing yourself for something.

So, he did the only thing he knew how to do.

He made you laugh.

You weren’t sure when the tension finally started to ease but at some point you found yourself curled up on the couch half-listening as Jake recounted some absurd training exercise where Phoenix had absolutely wrecked him in a dogfight.

“—I swear to God, I had her, I had her, and then at the last second, she pulls this insane move out of nowhere. Next thing I know, she’s behind me, cackling like a damn supervillain and I’m dead in the water.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “I bet she lovedthat.”

“Oh, she hasn’t shut up about it since,” Jake admitted, shaking his head in exasperation. “I’ll never live it down. Worst part is, Mav saw the whole thing. Didn’t even bother hiding the smug look.”

You let out a small laugh and Jake stilled. It was quiet, barely there, but it was real. His smirk softened, something shifting behind his eyes. For the first time ever, he really looked at you. Not just as the woman who sparred with him, who kept up with his banter, who never let him get the last word. But as you. The woman who had been terrified last night. The woman who had been shakentoday. The woman he never wanted to see rattled like that again.

You felt the shift too because your smile faded slightly. Your gaze flickering over his face like you were searching for something. Your voice was quiet when you spoke. “Thanks, Jake.”

His throat bobbed. The muscles in his jaw flexing like he was holding something back. He should’ve said something. Should’ve teased. Should’ve smirked and drawn out the moment. Should’ve eased you back into the comfort of your usual game. But he didn’t. Because this wasn’t the game anymore.

His hand lifted before he could stop himself. His fingers brushing along the side of your face. His thumb grazing your cheek so lightly, so gently, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

Your breath caught but you didn’t move away. Didn’t say a word. Couldn’t say a word. And then your eyes flicked down to his mouth just for a second, but long enough. Long enough for him to see it. To feelit.

His pulse kicked hard against his ribs, a slow, building pressure coiling in his chest, in his gut. Jesus. You wanted this. You wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you.

Something cracked wide open between you in that moment. Something unspoken but undeniable. Something that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long it was a wonder it hadn’t boiled over sooner.

Jake’s breath was warm against your skin as he leaned in, his nose barely brushing yours. Giving you the chance to back away if you wanted. He could feel the way you inhaled sharply. The way your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your hoodie like you were holding yourself back.

His thumb traced the edge of your jaw. His voice dropping to something barely above a whisper. “Don’t thank me, darlin’.”

And without thinking, without second-guessing, without giving either of you a chance to step back. He kissed you. It was slow, like he had all the time in the world to memorize the way your lips felt against his. It was lingering, like he wasn’t sure if this was the first or the last time he’d get to do this. It wasn’t playful. Wasn’t teasing. It was real.

When he pulled back, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t awkward, wasn’t tense. It was heavy with something unspoken. With something waiting to be acknowledged. But instead of speaking Jake just gave you one last lingering look before pressing a softer barely-there kiss to your forehead. A silent promise. A quiet reassurance.

“Get some sleep sweetheart,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

The scent of fresh coffee pulled you from sleep. For a moment, you lay there, disoriented, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through your curtains. Your brain slowly caught up. You hadn’t made coffee. And there was only one other person in your house who would.

Jake.

You pushed back the covers and padded toward the kitchen. The wood floor cool against your bare feet. And there he was.

Jake Seresin stood at your stove pouring coffee into two mugs like he’d done it a hundred times before. His flight suit jacket was still draped over a chair, but he’d changed into the sweatpants you’d tossed at him last night. The fabric hanging low on his hips in a way that was far too distracting this early in the morning. His hair was still messy, slightly sleep-ruffled, and for some reason that made your stomach do something ridiculous.

He looked comfortable here. In your space. Like he belonged. And you liked it. Liked the way it looked. Liked the way he looked. God help you.

At the sound of your footsteps he turned, flashing you a grin. “Mornin’, sweetheart.” He held out a mug. “Figured you might need this.”

You crossed your arms but took it anyway, inhaling deeply before your first sip. Perfect. Of course, he makes perfect coffee, too. “Didn’t take you for a domestic type, Seresin,” you muttered, lifting an eyebrow. Trying your best to look annoyed but you were anything but that.

Jake smirked while leaning a hip against the counter. “You saying you expected me to sneak out before sunrise?”

You hummed, taking another sip. “Wouldn’t have been the first time a Navy pilot bailed on me.”

His smirk faltered just slightly. Just enough to make your lips twitch. “Not my style, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head. Then after a beat he nudged your elbow. “You slept okay?”

The teasing had softened and the warmth in his voice caught you off guard. You hesitated, fingers curling around your mug, but the truth easily came this time.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I did. I slept more than okay.” Because knowing he was just a room over made it easy to relax. Jake studied you for a second. His green eyes sharp, thoughtful, like he was making sure you meant it.

Satisfied, he clinked his mug against yours, smirk returning full force. “Good. ‘Cause I make a damn good bodyguard. But I make an even better breakfast. What’s it gonna be, sweetheart? Eggs or pancakes?”

You blinked. “You’re making breakfast too?”

Jake gave you a slow, lazy grin. “Oh, darlin’, you think I’m lettin’ you start your day without a full meal andmy charming company? Hate to break it to you, but you’re really bad at getting rid of me.”

You scoffed while shaking your head. “Unbelievable.”

“Charming,” he corrected, winking.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was impossible to fight, “Pancakes. I like my breakfasts sweet.”

He gave you that devilish grin, “Noted darlin’.”

And just like that. That something between you and Jake Seresin shifted. For good.

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topguncortez · 2 months ago

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For Her Hand - Jake Seresin x Shy!Wifey

opposites attract masterlist || main masterlist

synopsis: Jake has always been cool and collected under pressure, but setting across the table from one of the Navy's most infamous legends to ask for his daughter's hand in marriage?? Well, that's enough to make anyone crack under pressure

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none? cursing, mentions of death, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of religion

Jake was sweating.

He probably had sweat stains on the underarms of his dress shirt, and he was now worried that he was going to have to use the bathroom before James got here. Tonight was the night that Jake was going to ask for Y/N’s hand in marriage. . . even though he already proposed.

Jake knew he was doing it all backwards. He had already gotten an ear full from his mother when they called her several months ago to tell her the news of Y/N’s pregnancy. Jake never wanted it to be like this, no, he was raised to be a true gentleman. He was supposed to court the girl for a couple of months, and then ask her father and the church for their blessing to get engaged, then there would be a big party on his family’s ranch to celebrate the engagement and then there would be a huge wedding ceremony that was more about showing off to his parents’ friends than about him and Y/N.

But there was something about Y/N, that made Jake throw all expectations out the window. From the moment Jake saw her from across the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with her. That moment he stepped off the carrier and went straight to her house to find her covered in dirt, he knew that she was going to be the mother of his children. That he would come home to her every single time. Every night he dreamt of the life they would have together, the names of their children, what they would look like, the big house he would build her, and the garden that she would spend hours out in.

Jake hadn’t always had a good reputation when it came to women, and it was pretty well known. Throughout the academy and flight school, it wasn’t uncommon to see Jake leave with a new woman. There was a part of him who had spent years searching for the person to fill the void in his heart that had been festering from years of striving for his father’s attention and love. And Y/N was the person who filled it in a very healthy way.

When James first heard about Jake’s and Y/N’s relationship, he was not thrilled. He had seen flyboys like Jake before. He knew what they got up to on postings and detachments, and didn’t want his daughter to join the club of broken hearts. He had also seen and heard the broken cries of their partners when an officer walked off the ship and handed them a neatly folded flag. James felt ill every time he thought about his daughter being in that position.

But then he saw how they interacted with each other at the Naval ball, and Vice Admiral James “Hercules” Parker was proven wrong. He could see the love that Jake had for his daughter. And even though nothing was promised in their line of work, James knew he couldn’t stand in the way of true love.

Jake wiped his hands on his pants for what seemed like the thousandth time that hour as he looked around the restaurant for James. He felt like dinner was a more professional way to ask to marry his daughter than doing it over drinks at the Hard Deck or a round of golf, or blurting out in the middle of a meeting (like Coyote had done with Warlock). What made his nerves stay somewhat at bay was that Jake was kind of doing this all backward. He had already proposed to Y/N when he came home from his last deployment and she had said yes. Blame it on the heat of the moment and being a hair's breadth away from death, but Jake couldn’t wait any longer without making her his forever. And she was already pregnant with his child, and James and Clara had already accepted him into their family.

“Jacob,” James said as he walked to the table. Jake stood up and greeted James with a handshake, “Missing Thursday night football for this.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Jake said and took another drink of his water. James eyed him suspiciously, seeing the young man's hands shake, as a waiter walked to the table.

“Anything to drink for you two, tonight?” The waiter asked.

“Top-shelf whiskey,” James nodded, “Make that two, neat.”

“Oh, I’m good with water,” Jake said. The waiter nodded and went to go get their drinks, “Sorry, I’m just a bit nervous.”

“I can see that,” James said, “Didn’t think that the ‘Hangman’ could get nervous,” Jake cringed at the way James said his call sign as if it were some sort of dig. Some sort of pass to let Jake know that he wasn’t good enough for his daughter, “What’s on your mind son? How’s Y/N and the baby?”

“Good, they’re both good. She’s pissed, uh,” Jake cleared his throat, “Sorry, upset, that Clara won’t let her dig the flower beds.”

“It’s not good for pregnant women to be digging in soil,” James responded, his voice void of emotion and staring Jake down like he was an idiot.

“Right, yes! I knew that from the parenting books,” Jake nodded, remembering one of the only facts he had retained from those books, “Anyway, I uh,” Jake scratched the back of his neck, trying to gather his thoughts, “I love you, daughter,” James nodded, “A-and I did this whole thing backward and I apologize for it. My dad drilled into my head that you always ask for permission first before you do anything with another man’s daughter-”

“Or get her pregnant.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for that too. But sir-”

“James,”

Jake nodded, “James, I don’t ever want to see a day where your daughter is not by my side. When I thought I wasn’t going to make it back to her. . . well, it was the worst thing ever. I had to make a promise to her when I got back on solid ground, and I did. And now, I gotta make it right. If you would please grant me the blessing, I would love to marry your daughter.”

James looked at him for a moment, the silence becoming so thick between the two men. Jake felt a cold sweat go down his spine, but then he saw a smile break out across James’ face, “I knew this would come sooner or later. I was hoping for later, but,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black ring box, “She used to wear this around the house as a little girl. It was my mother’s.”

James placed the box on the table and Jake gingerly picked it up. Inside sat a beautiful diamond attached to a silver band. The diamond had to be nearly three carats and had smaller diamonds around it. Jake looked up at James, tears brimming his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask-”

James shook his head, cutting Jake off, “I did the same thing nearly thirty years ago,” James chuckled, “I lost my wingman and almost burned in myself. The moment I got home to Clara, I told her that I could not go back up into the sky without knowing I was going to have her forever. Then she dragged me to the courthouse that same day,” James shook his head with a smile, “I knew this moment was coming at some point in time, when 'dad' stopped being the only man in her life. The only man she looks at with those eyes. No dad is ever ready for that day, and one day, hopefully, you'll have the same experience."

Jake could only imagine the day he would have a little girl and hoped she’d look like Y/N. He could see it now, a beautiful daughter that had her mother’s beautiful eyes and smile, and her personality. If she was born with Jake’s. . . lord help them all, she was going to be a firecracker.

“Does this mean that I. . .”

“You have my blessing to marry my daughter.”

— — —

After dinner was over, Jake probably broke every traffic law to get home to Y/N. He smiled as he noticed the lights in the backyard were on and the sound of her giggle was in the air. He could hear the small barks of the German shepherd puppy he had gotten her as a companion for when he’s gone on deployments. Jake grabbed the bouquet of pink carnations and basically skipped to the backyard.

“Bring it back, Steve!” Y/N called as the puppy hustled his way back to his owner, “Good boy!” Steve’s attention turned the second that the gate to the backyard was opened. Even for a puppy, his barks were still loud, startling Y/N. She turned around, seeing Jake standing there with a goofy grin on his face.

“What are you-”

“Marry me,” Jake said, cutting her off.

Y/N giggled, “Sweetheart, I already said yes. Did you hit your-”

“Nope,” Jake shook his head and walked over to where she was kneeling on the ground. Steve growled a bit as Jake got close to his mother, “Hey, I was the one who adopted you and let you chew on the seatbelts in my truck.” Steve gave Jake a look, before trotting off into the backyard, “Animals.”

“Be nice,” Y/N playfully scolded, and sat down in the grass. Her hand rested on her growing bump, which had popped a few days ago, and had become Jake’s latest obsession to touch, “How did dinner go?”

“Went great,” Jake said, sitting down next to her and pulling her into his lap. He rested his large hand on top of her’s, “He gave me his blessing and gave me this,” Jake pulled out the ring from his pocket.

Y/N gasped, “My nana’s ring! Oh my god, I thought I lost that!”

“Your dad kept it and gave it to me,” Jake said. He grabbed Y/N’s hand and took off the fifteen-dollar ring he bought at Target that was slowly starting to turn green, “Now, we can make it official,” Y/N turned her head to look at him, “What do you say, Mrs. Seresin?”

Y/N smiled and turned in his lap so she was straddling him, “I think you should’ve told him I’m already Mrs. Seresin, but. . .” She tilted her head back and forth, “Baby steps.”

“Yeah, yeah, baby steps,” Jake smirked as he wrapped his arms around her waist and flipped them over. Y/N’s giggles filled the air as Jake pressed kisses all over her face. Her ring glittered in the moonlight.

note: happy Valentine's Day or whatever

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ailoda · 4 months ago

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updated: 09.03.25

ᯓ ✈︎ smut

All In (✘): you make jake’s dreams come true. aka the face sitting fic. (@seasonsbloom)

Left At The Altar (multi-part) (❤❅✘): when you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

Take A Bite (✘): your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you can’t manage to say no. (@dearsnow)

Back to Sleep (✘): “Ain't sorry that I woke ya.” (@thebirdandthebee)

Don't Ever Leave My Side (❤✘): the one where you finally let Jake take you out on a date after countless rejections, but it turns out that the guy you convinced yourself he was, isn’t who he is at all. (@bloatedandalone04)

↪︎ Just Us Three (❤✘): yours and Jake’s son gets in trouble at school, and then Jake gets in trouble at home when he tries to hide it from you.

Always A Bridesmaid (❅✘): Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster? (@sugarcoated-lame)

↪︎ Sometimes A Bride (❤❅✘): you’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down - or you and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’ (part two)

Desire (❤✘): your feelings for Jake resurface after you tried to push them away, leading to an extremely intimate night with your best friend. (@cowboybeepboop)

The Devil Needs A Ride (✘): you can feel the rumble of his voice before he asks, “Whatcha up to, Sugar?”, “Giving you a taste of your own medicine,” you whisper and you revel in the shudder that washes over his body as you bring one of your hands down to rest on his belt buckle. Or the one where Jake works you up enough that you feel the need to retaliate. (@oncasette)

The Hangman Special (✘): on a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem. (@hangmanssunnies)

Start of A Silver Fox (✘): back from deployment, you notice a change in your boyfriend's appearance. (@topherwrites)

Touch Me, I'm Sick (✘): it’s always been easy to resist hangman’s charm -- until one lonely night, when it becomes the hardest task you’ve ever had to complete. (@ohcaptains)

Oh Honey (❤✘): Jake Seresin has a routine. He wakes up, he thinks of you, he goes to sleep, he dreams of you. And on Friday nights, he goes to the Hard Deck just to see your face, hoping you’ll one day decide that you want to be with him, too. It’s been the same for a year, but maybe things still have a chance to change. (@seresinhangmanjake)

new! Slim Pickins (✘): an accidental stay in an old school love motel. (@pabbit)

276 notes · View notes

mlqueen89 · 5 months ago

Text

Two | Ego

i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life

Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).

word count: 9,776

summary: “if it isn’t the consequences of my own actions.” in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar.

A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service.

this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.

working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.

❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥

Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.

“I sat on his face, Yan,” Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresin’s eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark he’d made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasn’t put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. “Now I have to work with him.”

Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a “girl dinner,” which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didn’t bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box she’d seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house.

“I dunno,” Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box she’d retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. “Maybe he’ll forget?”

The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the tower—the usual M.O. of any other airfield she’d worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning.

To her relief, she didn’t see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadn’t necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, she’d had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.

When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that he’d be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot.

Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland… somewhere, anywhere far away from him.

By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasn’t home. She wasn’t sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake.

When she’d instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes.

Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommate’s general direction. “Forget? He’s a pilot, it’s highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. There’s no way he’s going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.”

Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, “Before you say it: Bradley doesn’t count. He’s a weird… mustachioed outlier.”

Data couldn’t track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a time—just when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, she’d been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didn’t fit the mold of the pilots she’d met.

“Okay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?” Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. “For all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and you’re just another girl in the long line of hook ups?”

Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. “Great. That makes me feel so much better.”

Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. “Let’s have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?”

“Are you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yan’s version?”

“How about we split the difference?” Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a two—handed grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. “If I was your therapist, I’d say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?”

Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there.

How did the embarrassment of working with a man she’d slept with serve her?

Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes.

Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that he’d dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadn’t realized she’d been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. She’d made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasn’t even aware she was capable of making.

The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment he’d been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. She’d melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlin’ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager he’d sounded when he’d asked her what she wanted from him and how he’d nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told.

Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen.

The embarrassment didn’t serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldn’t happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldn’t happen again—especially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, she’d get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her life’s work.

Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldn’t have sex with Voldemort again. Couldn’t risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldn’t let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas.

“It doesn’t.”

“Exactly. I’m not sure what just went through your beautiful noggin’ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular night—this guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.” Ellie wasn’t sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. She’d let it slide for Yan.

“Also, don’t think I don’t see it,” Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellie’s general direction. “I’m being nice and I’m not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.”

“In my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?”

“Oh, that’s just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.” Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, “let’s be real though—we’re in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.”

Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yan’s paper plate. “So, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?”

“More like mirror it. Sometimes that’s all it takes,” Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, so I won’t, but if I could talk about it, I’d say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.”

Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to.

Yan was right. Ellie couldn’t honestly say she was thinking straight when he’d looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadn’t been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when he’d touched her waist and leaned in close.

Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. “What would friend Yan say?”

“As your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, I’d say,” Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, “so what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didn’t know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasn’t. I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like you have to work directly with him, right?”

“Except I actually do.” Ellie sighed—she'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. “I’m the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. He’s part of the team they’ve recalled—he’s one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.”

Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. “Okay. First—love the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe he’s, like, cool? Like, he hasn’t been a complete ass about it yet, right?”

“He pretended like he didn’t even know me,” Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark he’d made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. “Which, I guess is fair, since we didn’t exactly exchange names before....”

“... before he fucked your brains out?” Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in.

Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them.

“Okay, so, he’s trying to be professional. That’s not necessarily a bad thing?” Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink.

Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just—weird? I don’t know how to act around him now.”

“Oh girl, act like it didn’t happen, obviously. We both know you’re the queen of compartmentalizing, right?”

Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. “This is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasn’t planning on hooking up with someone I’d have to see every day.”

Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. “Well, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. You’ll see him for as long as he’s front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.”

Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. “You make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.”

“As my grandma used to say—God rest her soul—” Yan continued, hearing Ellie’s comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, “pussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. You’re holding all the cards.”

“Set the tone?” Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didn’t bother to ask why Yan’s grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level.

“Yeah,” Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellie’s hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, “you’re the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. He’s just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.”

Ellie shrugged, avoiding eye—contact with Yan. “Maybe you’re right.”

Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. “I’m always right, girly pop.”

“Oh, is that right, huh?” Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.

Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. “You know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrow’s another day, and you’re not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if he’s gorgeous and a generous partner.”

Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. “God, this is a mess.”

“Eh,” Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. “Messy is more fun. Let’s watch Love is Blind Brazil, there’s apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isn’t over her ex—”

“Speaking of,” Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. “What happened to Frankenstein?”

“Oh, turns out he couldn’t keep it together,” Yan didn’t bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, “needed someone with a bit more heart.”

“You’re so ridiculous.”

Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004

Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt.

She’d woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didn’t come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left.

It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base.

“Dad, we’re not supposed to be here,” Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her father’s as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode he’d called it. In her chest, Ellie’s heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all.

Rick “Hollywood” Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. “Don’t worry, kiddo. I know the boss.” He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after all—the coolest person in the world.

Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellie’s eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one she’d only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellie’s breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him.

Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. “Come on, squirt,” he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the plane’s body. “Want to see where the magic happens?”

Ellie’s eyes widened as she gazed at the jet’s gleaming surface. “This is your plane?”

“All mine,” he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO.

As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. “That’s the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, it’s here, in the nose too—probably the most important thing in the whole bird.”

Ellie’s eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. “Why?” Her face scrunched in thought.

“Because without it, I wouldn’t know what’s coming my way. You see, when you’re flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around you—what’s out there, who’s out there.” He turned, giving her a proud smile. “That’s where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?” He winked. “They’re sitting right behind the pilot.”

“Like the RIO?” she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfather’s name.

“Exactly.” He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the “lady butt” as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didn’t care. The weight of it made her feel important—like she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad.

“Dad…” Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. “What’s it like? Flying up there?”

Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. “It’s like…freedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when you’re up there, you feel like you can do anything.”

Ellie’s eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. “Maybe I can be your RIO one day?”

Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. “You’re already halfway there, kid. One day, you’ll be up there with me. I’ll be the one flying, and you’ll be the one keeping me safe, making sure we’re on the right track.”

Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dad’s footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. “Just don’t tell your uncle Wolfman. You’ll be putting him out of a job and I don’t know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.”

For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she could—her hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.

He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. “Alright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Let’s get out of here before someone catches us.”

Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldn’t help but glance back at the jet.

“I think we just found your call sign, huh?” Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. “Eleanor Rio Neven.”

Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. “I like it.”

“Rio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.”

One day, she thought. One day she’d earn that call sign.

Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasn’t Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasn’t the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds.

Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button.

“Comm Center 11,” the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, “that’s clear across the airfield from here. You’ll have to take the perimeter; they’ll be running drills at this time. Pattern’s full.”

“Thanks.” Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base.

Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things weren’t heavy individually—a few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBook—but stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape.

The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels.

“Need a hand?”

The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned.

Hangman.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yan’s voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.

Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasn’t sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely.

“No, I don’t need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,” she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment.

Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. “You’re a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me Jake…” he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, “since we’ve already been… acquainted.”

Ellie’s jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. “I’m aware of what happened. That was… before.” Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. “This is work, not—”

“Not what?” he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. “Not two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?”

Great. So he hadn’t recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. She’d have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups?

Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. “That’s exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. That’s it,” Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. “One night. A one-time thing.”

This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didn’t speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did.

“Listen, I don’t know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It won’t happen again.” She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. “I’m here to do a job, that’s it.” Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. She’d taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again.

His eyebrow quirked up, but he didn’t look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. “My angle?” He repeated, almost as if he couldn’t believe it wasn’t butter. His tone was teasing and light. “So, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?”

Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didn’t need the confirmation. “I don’t know what it is, yet” the box pitched, and Hangman’s hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. “But yes, I’m sure you have one.”

Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot she’d ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. “Whatever you’re thinking, do me a favour—don’t. You’re not fooling me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that she’d said no and turned down his help.

Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jake’s hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good… really good.

“Careful there,” he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. “It’d be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.”

Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasn’t willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact.

“I can handle myself, thank you” she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels.

“Never said you couldn’t.” He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didn’t fade. “But just so we’re clear, if you ever need a hand, I’m around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.”

Ellie didn’t answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldn’t feel Jake’s eyes on her.

As she walked away, she heard him call out, “See you around, Ace.”

“303,” Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that weren’t hers. “304,” she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door.

She’d broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time she’d made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace she’d kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man she’d been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, she’d hit her workout goal for the entire week.

“305.”

Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing.

Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didn’t get windows, especially not eastern facing windows.

The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadn’t changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door.

Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke.

“Hey, Rio.”

The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source.

The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots he’d watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere.

Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick.

Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. “I think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractor’s, that’s for sure.”

Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man she’d met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. “Pulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywood’s kid.”

She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. “Well, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think it’s a bit much.” Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right.

Her “office” at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. She’d accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. “I was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less… light.”

Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. “How’re you doing, kid? How’s Miramar treating you so far? Wouldn’t expect it’s anything Rio couldn’t handle.”

“Rio,” Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time she’d heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, “haven’t heard that one in a long time. I’m good.”

She’d leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadn’t been expecting him to be here, hadn’t expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. “So, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?”

“Something like that.” A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. “I figured I’d be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramar’s not the… smoothest place to transition into.”

Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldn’t help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Stark—welcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasn’t sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade.

There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy.

Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understood—he almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadn’t ever been any Admiral’s favourite pilot—especially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadn’t been dishonourably discharged… yet.

There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between.

“Smooth is overrated,” Ellie scoffed, shrugging. “I’m here to work—maybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if I’m lucky.”

Maverick’s laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide.

“Good,” he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. “Well, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, I’ve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want to—” Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia.

“Yeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.”

Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side.

“So I’ve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,” Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. “It’s really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didn’t mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.”

“I mean—” Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, “it’s all still relatively untested….”

She pointedly ignored Mav’s mention of her dad. Hollywood wasn’t exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead.

“Still. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.” Mav didn’t push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. “It’s going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. I’m putting my weight behind this one, Rio—that counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.”

“I hope so.” Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. “How do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources they’re allocating for this?”

Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. “Good news or bad news?”

“You know me, Mav—news is news.”

“Well, they’re giving us pilots and significant testing time. They’ve put me on the testing schedules too, so you’ll be seeing a lot of me. We’ll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.” Maverick’s fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm.

“Okay, that sounds like the good news to me….” Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. “I’ll get Records to pull the pilot files—”

“No need, I’ve got them here.” Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. “Fifteen pilots. They’re the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. They’re giving us four of our choosing.”

Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. “Well, to be honest, I was expecting far less—”

“We have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. They’re giving us two and a half months.” Maverick’s words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellie’s eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldn’t find. Maverick didn’t lie, he wasn’t the type.

And there it was: the other shoe.

Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. “No pressure, right?”

“RADM Stark is in our corner for now—Admiral Simpson has made it clear he’ll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,” Maverick didn’t sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about him—it wasn’t in his nature to soften the blow. “I think you and I would both prefer that it’s with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.”

Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay then, deep ending this.”

“Pick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. I’m looking forward to reading your report.” Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Let’s say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.”

“Careful Mav,” Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, “that sounds an awful lot like protocol. You’ve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.”

Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. “This isn’t exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if there’s anyone who can pull this off, it’s you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or not—” Mav’s knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her mother’s maiden name, “—the Nevens have a way of making things happen. You’re where you’re meant to be.”

“Thanks.”

Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. “Oh, Ellie?” Maverick’s head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. “I brought you a little office warming gift.”

Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying.

“Penny picked it out.” Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellie’s gaze didn’t shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. “0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.”

With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden.

The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime.

Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellie’s eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverick’s, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign.

Next to him, Wolfman, her dad’s RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywood’s shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokes—always inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh.

On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best.

The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jet’s sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight.

It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincible—a moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together.

Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug.

If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions.

“You’re going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.”

Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. “Keep taking my money, Hangman and you’ll have to tell Nic why I can’t take her out on Friday.”

“Oh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend can’t handle his balls?” Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. “You know, I’d be real happy to do that, Rooster.” Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, “how ’bout I let you break first then, give you a head start.”

As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jake’s mind wasn’t on the pool game, or the growing pile of Rooster’s cash.

Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jake—surprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O.

After he’d seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadn’t managed to catch her again.

The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jake’s focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot.

“Nice shot, Bradshaw,” Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. “I think this might be the first time you’ve hit something clean all week.”

Rooster’s breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. “Just wait, Bagman,” Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be asking me for a loan.”

“Bold for someone down to their last twenty.” Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shot—missing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadth—before stepping in to size up the table, tutting. “Might have to start playing some tunes for tips,” he nodded over to the piano in the corner.

They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jake’s inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter.

“So,” Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. “We have a new radar tech or something—Rigby?” Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didn’t know her name, pretended he didn’t like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day.

As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. “Rigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. She’s Nic’s best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.” Rooster set his beer down carefully, “Why? What’s your angle?”

Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. “No angle,” he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. “Just curious. Seems like she’s got the brass wrapped around her finger already.”

“That’s because she’s good at what she does,” Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. “Smart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she won’t put up with any crap. Not the usual type you’d chase, though,”

Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadn’t expected, missing the striped ball he’d lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Rooster’s turn. “Who says I’m chasin’, Bradshaw?”

Rooster’s response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. “Sure, man, whatever you say,” he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. “You don’t exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.”

Jake smirked, but didn’t respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Rooster’s gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldn’t shake the curiosity that had been brewing since he’d seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When she’d let him come back to her place and he’d fucked her until her knees shook, he hadn’t expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if she’d known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad.

Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. “Say I’m curious for… curiosity’s sake: what’s her deal? Anything I should know?”

“Oh shit—you really don’t know…” Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. “You don’t know who her old man is, do you?”

Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. “Her old man?”

Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. “Rick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that he’d never walk again.”

Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. “You tellin’ me she’s Neven’s kid?”

Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jake’s mind. “Yeah, man. That’s Rigsy’s dad. Big shadow to live under. She’s been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what I’ve gathered.”

Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasn’t just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived in—but from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadn’t mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm.

“She doesn’t really talk about him much,” Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jake’s shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didn’t want to admit it. “Nic says it’s a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.”

Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. “Damn.”

“You’re in over your head with that one, Hangman,” Rooster said with a knowing smirk. “She’s not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs she’s throwing out, she sure as hell won’t make it easy.”

“Wouldn’t be any fun if she did, Rooster.” Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. “Wouldn’t be any fun if she did.”

tags bbs: @hookslove1592 @mrsevans90 @avengersfan25 @jbennsquared @dempy @obsessed-fan-alert @djs8891 @lunatygerqueen @khouse712 @alipap3 @yuckosworld @marvelouslyme96

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beyondthesefourwalls · 1 year ago

Text

A Verbal Agreement

Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more.

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short)

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.

---

You hated him.

Truly, you did.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it.

Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction.

But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy.

“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.”

You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise.

Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy.

So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.

It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.

“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?”

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.”

“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?”

Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.”

You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.

“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!”

His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him.

“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?”

“Uh-huh,” you breathed.

"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.”

"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.”

“God I love it when you beg for me.”

He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation.

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?”

“Jake.”

You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it.

"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?”

You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you.

Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears.

Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.”

“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.”

Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.”

Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.

For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.

“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin.

Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest.

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.”

“No, I mean it.”

But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”

“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”

He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else.

-----------

Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.

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mynameismckenziemae · 1 month ago

Text

I Love You Two

Part 12

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley Bradshaw x OFC x Jake Seresin.

Summary: It’s Jake’s turn. A misunderstanding happens when you and Bradley are caught in a compromising position.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! M/M interaction, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v, creampies, teasing, humiliation, dirty talk, objectification, spanking, ass play, toy use, etc.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“Ready for your turn?” Bradley asks Jake, pulling a plug matching yours from his back pocket, only this one is in blue.

With a whine, your head drops back to your folded arms. You’re actually starting to worry that Bradley won’t let you cum tonight at all. And while that sounds awful, the thought of him denying you makes your pussy clench. You bite your lip to keep from moaning when you’re reminded of the plug.

Not that it would matter if the sound escaped anyway; they’re both ignoring you.

“Please,” Jake sighs at the feel of Roo’s mustache on his neck, walking him backward into the attached bathroom, to presumably wash their hands.

Once the water is off, they stay out of sight a little longer, just to torture you with the sounds of their wet kisses and muted groans.

When you shift your weight again in an attempt to get more comfortable in your position still bent over the bed, your clit rubs against the comforter, making your whole body shudder.

“Fuck,” you bite out, doing it again, and again…

“Did I say you could move?” Bradley emphasizes his question with a sharp slap to your already tender ass. The unexpected pain makes you involuntarily tighten around the plug; the pleasure taking your breath away.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” you retort shakily, arching into his hand trailing up your spine.

“God,” Bradley chuckles darkly as his hand slides into your hair before he pulls you up, nipping at your lower lip, once, twice, “this fucking mouth,” he murmurs, not giving you the kiss you so desperately want before guiding you to your knees. You hiss when your tender ass touches your heels but it’s soon forgotten as Bradley put you in front of a very naked (and turned on) Jake; his hard cock is just inches from your face, dripping precum and making your mouth water.

Bradley none-too-gently pushes your head forward and you open your mouth eagerly, “I don’t want to hear anything else unless you’re gagging on this pretty cock, got it?”

You attempt a nod while Jake shudders at his words and the heat of your mouth.

Bradley, now also naked, opens the lube to slick his fingers before he steps behind him, resting his chin on Jake’s shoulder. They both watch as you slowly bob your head, but then Jake’s eyelashes flutter. His hands find your hair to anchor himself from the onslaught of sensation.

“Yeah,” Bradley murmurs, “that’s good, Jake. Just like that. Relax and let me in.”

Jake releases a shaky breath and a new burst of precum fills your mouth.

“How’s it feel?” Bradley kisses Jake’s neck, his free hand coming around to cup his pec.

“Good,” Jake breathes, arching a little when Bradley finds his nipple, giving it a gentle pinch.

“How about when I do this?” Bradley does something with his finger and Jake’s whole body lurches, his cock pushing into your throat suddenly, making you gag.

“F-fuck!” Jake rasps, chest heaving.

“Found your prostate,” Bradley smirks, “ah-don’t worry about her, she’s fine,” he continues when Jake tries to stop you to apologize.

You nod eagerly through watery eyes.

“But…” Jake trails off when you bob your head faster.

“She’ll pinch your leg if she wants you to stop,” Bradley says, looking down with Jake to make sure you’re okay with it. You wink in answer.

“See?” Bradley murmurs, making Jake jolt again with another brush to his prostate, “She likes it, likes being our little fuck toy.”

Your nails dig into your thighs and you can’t help but whine around Jake’s cock.

“Fuck Jake,” Bradley’s composure begins to crack when he adds a second finger, “You’re so tight, baby. The way you’re squeezing my fingers…fuck.”

Jake just whimpers as he begins to rock his hips; back onto Roo’s fingers and forward into your mouth, jerking every time he brushes his prostate.

The taste of Jake on your tongue, Bradley’s words, the sight of them together above you, is too much, yet not enough. Arousal coats your trembling thighs as you continue to suck him off, though slowing every time he starts to grow close.

“You going to let me fuck you here?” Bradley keeps going, “Hmm? You going to let me own your tight ass?”

“Yes!” Jake gasps as Bradley nudges his prostate again. “Please Roo.” His voice is choked, whiny as you pull off him again, noticing when he starts to tense.

“Soon,” Bradley promises, kissing his shoulder in apology when he pulls his fingers out to pick up the plug, coating it with lube. Your hand shakes as you bring it up to cup Jake’s sack while Bradley brings it between his cheeks, “Tell me if it’s too much.”

“I will,” Jake answers, cutting off with a low groan when Bradley starts to push it in, “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. You’re taking it so well,” Bradley says, smacking him on the ass lightly before he steps back, “and it’s in, good boy.”

A strangled groan leaves Jake as he quickly pulls you off him, gripping the base of his cock with a grimace.

“What’s wrong?” You ignore the pulsing between your legs as you rise.

“Are you-does it hurt?” Bradley asks, reaching for him, “I can take it out.”

“No,” Jake pants, shaking his head and somehow flushing a deeper pink, “it’s good. Too good. And then you said I was a good…uh, anyways, I almost came.”

“You like being called a good boy, huh?” Bradley steps into the bathroom to wash his hands, looking downright predatory when he returns. Jake avoids answering by pulling him in for a kiss.

The simultaneous groan that escapes them when their cocks brush as Bradley lays him back sends a heady rush of arousal between your thighs. Suddenly, you’re not sure you can go that much longer without relief and climb on the bed beside them, unable to keep from whimpering at the plug shifting inside you. Jake’s arm blindly reaches out, pulling you in too. The kiss is wet and messy, just like you are.

Bradley is the one to break it. His cheeks are ruddy red as he rises to his knees before pulling you closer and placing your leg over Jake’s hips to straddle him.

“Ride him,” Bradley orders hoarsely from behind you, reaching between your legs to place his cock at your entrance, “but don’t you dare cum.”

“Okay,” you nod, eyes falling closed with a breathy moan as you slowly sink down at the dual sensation. Jake’s usually gentle hands find your hips in a bruising grasp, his chest heaving with the effort not to thrust into your warm, wet heat.

“Liv,” Bradley grips your chin before turning you toward him. Your eyes flutter open at his tone. “I’m dying to be inside you, so if I have to spank you again, you won’t enjoy it,” he warns, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb. “So don’t cum.”

The heat from your still throbbing backside reminds you not to test him.

“Yes sir,” you whisper before dipping your head to suck the tip of his thumb into your mouth.

His eyes drop to your mouth and he hums. “There’s my good girl.”

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Riding Jake with the plug in your ass is torture of the sweetest kind. The fullness in your ass with his cock hitting your g-spot has your toes curling.

“Fuuuuuck,” Jake groans, eyes tightly shut, sounding even more wrecked than you, “you-it…feels so good.”

“Yes,” you agree, nodding dumbly, “so good, Jake. So so good.”

Even with no stimulation to your clit, you feel the first tells of an orgasm approaching.

“Roo,” you gasp, turning your head as you ride him faster, “I can’t-I’m gonna-“

“No,” Bradley interrupts as he places his hands on your hips over Jake’s, forcing you to stop, halting your release, “you’re not.”

“Please,” you plead, head falling to your shoulder.

“No,” he repeats, letting Jake start moving your hips, “not until I say you can.”

A sob bubbles up your throat at being denied yet you force it down.

But he notices, notices that your self-control is hanging on by a thread. His hands drop to Jake’s legs, bending them before he begins toying with the end of the blue jeweled plug.

“Fuck!” Jake’s eyes fly open, pushing the air from your lungs as he digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up when Bradley fleetingly nudges the toy into his prostate.

“Come on, princess,” Bradley murmurs as his other hand cups his sack while he puts direct pressure on the toy, “cum for me.”

Jake does so instantaneously with a strangled cry, his hips losing all rhythm as he cums deep inside you, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm.

“Fuck,” Bradley whispers over your shoulder, “isn’t he beautiful?”

“So beautiful,” you don’t care how whiny it sounds as you tremble still atop him, fighting the urge to start grinding your swollen clit against him.

“What do you think, baby,” Bradley asks Jake, running his fingers through the cum seeping out of you, “Should we let her cum?”

“Ah-a-ah!” Jake wheezes as you clench around his spent cock when Bradley’s fingers brush your clit on the way to your mouth. “Ye-yeah,” he nods, watching through hooded lids as you suck the cum off them. “She can-she should cum.”

“Hmm,” Bradley hums as he guides you off Jake and onto your knees. He pushes you down between your shoulder blades before sliding his hand up your spine; thumb toying with the plug as he pushes his cock inside you. “Oh fuck Liv, I can feel it.”

A pathetic whimper is all you can manage; the fullness from the position and the plug sudden and overwhelming.

“Can’t wait to fuck this tight little hole while Jake takes your pussy,” he tugs on the plug, letting it catch your rim as he begins fucking with deep strokes at an unrelenting pace, “you can’t wait either, can you?”

Pathetic pleas are on the tip of your tongue but you bite them back, instead shaking your head while hot tears of frustration leak from your eyes.

“Knew it,” Bradley chuckles breathlessly, “such a greedy, greedy slut.”

You burn with humiliation but it just sends a new wave of arousal runs through you before settling between your thighs.

“C’mon Roo,” Jake murmurs, wiping your tears before tracing his hand over the goose skin of your back, “let her cum, she’s sorry.”

“That true?” Bradley pants, pausing to slap your ass when you hesitate; distracted by the pleasure starting to build.

“Yes!” You plead, “I’m sorry, Ro-sir! Please let me cum, please? I’ll be good.”

“See?” Jake coos, letting his hand slip down between your legs, waiting. “She said she’ll be good.”

“Fine,” he sighs, but it turns into a gasp when you tighten around him like a vice at the sweet touch to your clit.

You sob at the white-hot pleasure that rips through you, so intense it takes your breath away.

“Fuck!” Bradley groans hoarsely as he succumbs too; powerless to the pleasure.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

“I’m so goddamn lucky,” Roo murmurs minutes later, pressing a kiss to the skin he reddened before he brings a damp cloth to wipe his and Jake’s spend from between your thighs.

“Hmm?” You hum, still not quite back in your body.

“I-well…I’ve got you,” he says, cleaning you so tenderly it for some reason has you blinking back tears, “and I’ve got Jake.”

Jake returns from the bathroom and climbs on the bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“And…I dunno,” he flushes as he straightens, “you give yourselves to me so easily; like you just trust me and-fuck. I’m not good at this. I just…I’m just really happy to have you both.”

“I am too,” Jake murmurs, reaching for his hand.

“Me too,” you whisper, giving him a watery smile.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

The long weekend away doesn’t feel that long and too soon you’re heading back to the city. Not without making good use of the private hot tub, the king-size bed (again), the shower, the kitchen counter, the secluded(ish) hiking trail…

Nat texts as the truck pulls onto the highway.

Nat: Do you happen to have any Gulls apparel I could borrow? Someone asked me to go to a game tonight.

Liv: Someone as in Bob?

Nat: …

Liv: Never would’ve pegged him as a hockey fan.

Liv: But yes, I do. I’m not home but feel free to raid my closet. You know where the spare key is.

Nat: You’re the best.

Liv: 😘😘

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

Jake drops you and Bradley off at your apartment with a promise to be back soon with pizza.

“I’ll start a load of laundry if you want to pick a movie,” Bradley offers, placing a kiss on your cheek before sorting through the dirty clothes from the weekend. “Your bras don’t go in the dryer, right? This dress either probably?”

You’re not sure what comes over you. Maybe it’s the domesticity of it, maybe it’s the fact that none of your previous boyfriends ever offered to do your laundry. But the sweet gesture makes your heart flutter.

“I love you,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and leaning in.

“I love you too,” he whispers back before he brings his lips to yours.

It’s the first time he’s ever said it non-platonically and you can’t keep from smiling into the kiss.

He drops the bra and the dress when your hands slide into his hair to deepen it and his answering husky groan at the brush of your tongue to his sets you alight.

Neither of you think anything at the sound of the front door opening as he sets you on the washer, your hand pushing inside the front of his gray sweatpants; both assuming it’s Jake returning.

“What the fuck?!”

It’s not Jake.

.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.•*•.•.

A/N: 🎶 Dun dun dun🎶 well there’s part 2! That was a lot…emotionally-stunted Bradley is trying so hard 🥹, it’s confirmed that Jake likes being called a good boy (and princess 🤭), and poor, unsuspecting Nat walks in on Liv and Bradley in a compromising position (and is not happy). Also 👇🏻

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added/removed):

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@dizzybee03

@shanimallina87

@lexixstewart

@hookslove1592

@jessicab1991

@racerchix21

@that-one-fangirl69

@mrsbradshaw-seresin01

@sydneejean

@xoxabs88xox

@midnightmagpiemama

@its-the-pilot

@kmc1989

@psuedochakra

@fandomology101

@kneelforloki

@djs8891

@mavrellover91

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@seitmai

@emerald-jade1

#bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #jake seresin #top gun maverick #i love you two #bradley x jake #bradley bradshaw x jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc

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cowboybeepboop · 7 months ago

Note

Please please please write something angsty with Hangman that ends with smut, it doesn't have to be too angsty but I really like how soft you write him

Pairing: Jake “Hangan” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 6.6k

Summary: You’re a psychologist who is currently working with Maverick which means that Jake Seresin is back in your life. The two of you used to be friends but things changed between you during senior year. Seeing him again brings back memories, and feelings you thought you’d suppressed.

Warnings: not even slightly accurate to irl navy experience (I feel like that would be an assumption but nevertheless), mentions of bullying, Jake being a horrible person in the past, hand stuff, oral fem receiving.

a/n: lowkey this was rlly fun to write, I'm not so great at angst so I hope this is good. Again, as always, I hope you enjoy and please send any requests you might have <3 I love to write requests so feel free to send anything! Also also, send me a message if you want to be tagged in future Glen Powell/Hangman fics.

You and Jake went to the same highschool and were great friends yet both late bloomers. You grew into yourself during your sophomore year of college whereas Jake did in Senior year of high school, when he got his big growth spurt and lost his braces. Something about him entirely humiliating you by standing you up on Prom night, something you were looking forward to, simply because of how much you liked him has you holding a grudge.

So when you ran into him during your new position as a clinical psychologist for the Navy, your heart quite literally stopped. You thought that pretending you didn't see him would suffice, but, unfortunately the universe has a completely different plan.

Your boss had introduced you to Maverick, they planned to have you check out his new team in order to make sure they are competent for the missions the government plans for them to complete. That's how you ended up in the gruff man's office every morning, despite his obvious disdain for your presence in their team.

The evening sunlight beats down on you as you stand next to Maverick, watching the team go through their training drills. You notice him glance over at you, before focusing back on the team in front of you.

"How's that observing going for you?" He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, never taking his eyes off the team performing push-ups.

“Honestly Sir,” you glance over to him, “You’re really good at training, but I think you should be flying missions. You’re too good of a pilot to be stuck on teaching duties.”

Maverick pauses for a moment, caught off guard by your unexpected compliment. It's clear he wasn't expecting you to say that. He huffs, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss what you said.

"Well, aren't you just full of surprises, sweetheart." He smirks and turns to look you in the eye. "I take it you read up on my file, huh? Got all the dirty little details on Mr. Top Gun himself."

“Of course, but my father trained here a couple years after you.” your gaze returns to the aviators, “He’s always looked up to you, says you're one of the greatest.”

Maverick's smirk falters for a second, his expression unreadable. He shifts his weight and adjusts the collar of his shirt, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Your old man, huh?” He clears his throat. “I had no idea." There's a brief pause before he speaks again, his voice taking on a slightly softer tone. "What's he doing nowadays?"

You reply with a shrug, “Not sure. He wasn’t so keen on having a *shrink* hanging around. Said it cramps his style.” Maverick snorts, that sarcastic smirk returning to his face.

"Yeah, that sounds like a pilot, alright." He says with a chuckle. His gaze flicks over to the team, currently going through flight drills. He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, a hint of contemplation in his voice. "Did you ever think about becoming a pilot?”

“I did, but I don't think I meet the height requirement.” you smile up at him. Maverick chuckles at your joke, a rare glimpse of genuine humor in his expression.

"Ah yes, the height requirement. The bane of many short people's existence." He teases, his smirk widening. Before you can respond, both of you turn your attention to the sound of the aviators approaching. They look exhausted but pleased, clearly proud of a job well done.

Jake walks towards you, sweat dripping down his forehead from the strenuous training. He stands a little too close, his eyes fixed on you and his breathing heavy. "Hey, Y/N." Jake says, his voice strained from the workout. "You got a minute?” you shift your gaze to the older man at your right, clearing your throat before speaking.

“No, I’m quite busy.” your usual playful tone is replaced with a distant and cold one.

Maverick picks up on your plea immediately, his expression hardening at the sight of Jake's attempt to speak with you. He steps forward slightly, creating a small barrier between you and Jake.

Jake looks taken back by your cold response, his cocky demeanor slipping slightly. He glances between you and Maverick, clearly confused. "Ah, come on. Just a quick minute." He presses.

“There’s time to talk later.” Maverick interrupts, making you sigh in relief. Jake's cocky smile falters at your cold rejection and Maverick's intervention. He glances at the older man, clearly annoyed by his interruption.

"It's alright, Maverick," he says, trying to shrug off Maverick's protective stance. "I just wanted to talk to Y/N for a second. It won't take long." you cower behind Mav, unwilling to face Jake alone again.

Rooster interrupts the tense situation, “Mav, should we hit the showers? Or is there more training to be done?” Jake’s face darkens at Rooster’s question, clearly frustrated that his attempt to speak with you is being constantly interrupted. He clenches his jaw, his irritation palpable.

Maverick, however, remains calm. He gives you a reassuring look before turning to face his team. "Yeah, you guys go ahead and hit the showers." Maverick says, his hand still on your shoulder. "I’ll take care of the situation here." The team nods, sensing the tension in the air, and starts making their way towards the showers.

You avoid Jake's gaze, biting down on your lower lip as you sigh with the tension between the three of you. As the team heads off to the showers, the tension in the air still hangs heavily. Jake stands there, hands on his hips, as he stares at you with a mix of disappointment and anger.

Meanwhile, Maverick's hand goes to your shoulder, a silent show of support. "You really going to keep avoiding me like this?" Jake finally blurts out, breaking the silence.

“If I can.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re like a damn hawk.” Mav gives you a quizzical gaze before you sigh. “It’s okay Sir, I’ll talk to him” he gives you a soft nod, heading off toward the buildings.

Once Maverick leaves, Jake's attention refocuses on you, his gaze narrowing as he steps closer. "You’ve been avoiding me all week. We need to talk." His voice is firm, his frustration evident.

“It’s only been a couple days,” you protest, Jake's annoyance only grows at your words, his jaw tightening as he steps even closer, closing the space between you.

"A couple of days?! It's felt like an eternity. And yeah, I remember our last conversation. It didn't exactly go well." He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he looks down at you. "You can't keep brushing me aside like this."

You take a few steps back, sighing with defeat. “Jake, why do you care so much now?” Jake's eyes flick down to the space between you, watching you take a few steps back. His expression softens slightly as he hears the resignation in your voice.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration etched across his features. "Why do I care?” he repeats, as if the answer should be obvious. “Because I..." He trails off, his own emotions catching him off guard. He pauses, grappling with the words he wants to say, before finding them again.

You gulp, brushing past him heading toward the buildings. Jake turns, his eyes following you as you try to brush past him. He reaches out, his hand encircling your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Hey, wait." His voice is softer now, more pleading. "Please, just stop and listen to me for a second."

“Okay, fine.” you pull your wrist from his grasp. Jake's hand hangs in the air for a moment after you pull away, your sharp movement surprising him slightly. But he quickly regains his composure and drops it back to his side.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to you. He wants to reach out and touch you again, but he restrains himself. "I just... I can't stand this. This constant avoidance."

“Worked well for you when it was you avoiding me.” you bite back.

Jake's face flushes slightly, guilt flashing across his features. Your words hit him like a punch to the gut, reminding him of his own past behavior. He lets out a frustrated breath, his gaze dropping to the ground. "That was different..."

“It’s not and you know it.” your head lowers as your mind goes back to your previous conversation, where you confessed your feelings for him and he shut them down quickly. Jake looks at you as your head lowers, regret in his eyes. He instinctively reaches out, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Baby, please." His voice is soft, almost pleading. "Just let me talk for a minute." His touch is tentative, as if he's afraid you'll brush him away again. He wants you to hear him out, but he doesn't want to push you further away in the process.

You’re taken aback by the pet name, allowing him time to speak. Jake notices the effect his words have on you, a flicker of hope sparking in his eyes. He realizes that he might have a chance to explain himself now.

He takes a deep breath and begins, his voice steady but sincere. "When you told me about your feelings, it took me completely by surprise. I didn't expect it at all. And, honestly, I didn't know how to handle it." His gaze drops to the ground for a moment, his hand lightly squeezing your shoulder.

You take a deep breath, “Jake,” you move his hand from you. “The only reason you care now is because, because I’m finally *decent* enough for your attention.”

Jake's expression darkens at your words, a mixture of anger and regret in his eyes. He knows your words carry truth, and it hurts. "That's not true." he protests, his voice tight. "If I'm here now, it's not because I suddenly think you're *decent enough*. It's because..."

“Because what?” your eyes scan his face.

Jake runs a hand through his hair, struggling to find the words to explain himself. His eyes lock onto yours, as he tries to convey the depth of his emotions.

"Because I realize now what an idiot I've been," he bursts out, his frustration and remorse clear in his tone. "But... something changed and I..."

“What changed?” you sigh, Jake's eyes drop to the ground as he grapples with how to answer. He runs a hand through his hair before looking back up at you.

"I don't know," he admits, his voice quieter now, "maybe it was time, or realizing I'm not a kid anymore, but..." He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "You're different now. You've grown, you've become this..." He gestures towards you, struggling to find the right words.

“Jake stop..” you look up at him with wary eyes, “That's not fair,”

Jake stops, his eyes widening at your words. "What do you mean it's not fair?" He steps forward, confusion and frustration etched in his expression.

"I'm trying to explain myself, to make you understand why I care now," he says, his voice straining to remain calm. "How is that not fair?"

“Why? Why now?” your voice becomes louder with your growing frustration. Jake's own frustration flares up in response to your growing anger. His hands clench into fists at his sides as he tries to control his emotions.

"I can't explain why now!" he snaps, his voice rising to match yours. "I don't know why I didn't say anything before. I was a dumbass, and I'm sorry!" He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes never leaving your face. "I... I just wish I could go back and fix everything.”

You open your mouth to speak, yet nothing leaves your lips. Jake notices your hesitation and his expression softens slightly, hope flickering in his eyes. He takes a step closer, his voice quieter now.

"Please. Just... say something. Anything." his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand pressing into the small of your back. You stay silent, unable to process his words and find a response.

Jake's touch on your waist is firm but not overpowering. He pulls you closer, his eyes searching your face for some kind of response. He notices your silence, the way you seem to be frozen in place. His brow furrows with concern. "Please, talk to me," he pleads. "Don't just stand there."

You cover his mouth with your hand, needing a second to think. Jake freezes as you place your hand over his mouth, preventing him from speaking any further for the moment. He instinctively responds to your touch, however, pressing a soft kiss against your palm.

His eyes fix on yours, full of hope and anticipation, waiting for you to speak. You feel your guard dropping with his affection, leaning into his body.

Jake pulls you closer as you lean into him, his arms wrapping fully around you. The tension in the air eases slightly as he holds you tight against his body, his heart racing against your chest. He takes a deep breath, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Please, just talk to me," he whispers into your hair, his voice gentle and desperate.

“Jake…” you press your forehead against his shoulder, “I..” Jake feels your forehead press against his shoulder, and he holds you a little tighter, his arms encircling you like a protective veil.

"Please," he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, "tell me what you're thinking." He gently tucks a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response.

Your eyes glance to his lips, hands grasping his sides. “I, uh. I don’t know what to say,” your tongue flicks out to wet your lip. Jake's body tenses as he leans in towards you, his breath warm against your lips. He holds you tightly, his grip firm but gentle.

"You don't have to say anything," he murmurs, the corners of his lips barely brushing against yours, "Just... just let me show you." His eyes search yours, filled with a deep mixture of desire and vulnerability. Waiting for your response, for any sign that it's okay to proceed.

“Jake..” you murmur, his breath hitches at the tone of your voice, the sound of his name on your lips sending a shiver down his spine. He leans in even closer, his lips mere millimeters from yours, his eyes locked on yours.

"Say it again," he whispers, his voice low and rough. "Say my name again." you shake your head in response, pressing your lips to his. Jake's heart stutters at the touch of your lips against his. He responds immediately, the tension between you snapping as he kisses you back.

He molds his body against yours, one hand gripping your hip to pull you tighter against his chest. The other hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He kisses you deeply, a thousand unsaid words translated through the contact.

Your desire momentarily outweighs your grudge against him. Your resistance fades further as Jake's hand slides down your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. He caresses your body with a combination of firm desire and tender finesse, as if he's both demanding and reverent.

His hand cups your ass, his touch a combination of possessive and loving. He pulls you even closer, pressing your body fully against his, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth. He kisses you hungrily, his body craving more, but his hands remain gentle and careful.

Jake pulls back from the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. Both of you gasp for air, chests heaving as you take a moment to catch your breath.

His eyes remain locked onto yours, a mix of desire, hope, and something else - something deeper - swirling within them. His hands remain on your body, his touch possessive but tender. He runs his thumb over your cheek, a soft gesture of affection. "Say something," he murmurs again, his voice gruff with need.

“I think,” you take a deep breath, “I think I should leave Jake.” your hands fall from his sides.

As you speak, as those words leave your lips, something flickers in Jake's eyes. Fear, regret, desperation, all battling for dominance within him. He feels your hands fall away from his sides and his own hands tighten slightly on your hips, as if reflexively trying to pull you back.

"Please, don't go." His voice is thick with emotion, his grip on you bordering on pleading. "Please." your hands cup his cheeks, pulling him in for another deep kiss. Your brain constantly fighting the way your body clings to him.

As your lips meet in another deep kiss, Jake melts into your touch like a man starved. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against his body, his touch firm and possessive.

He kisses you hungrily, his tongue delving into your mouth, seeking connection and reassurance. His heartbeat thuds against your chest, his body reacting to your touch with a mix of need and desperation.

He doesn't want to let you go. Not now. Jake's body presses even closer against yours, his leg slipping in between yours, creating a tantalizing friction as he wedges himself between your thighs.

His hands roam your body, his touch both rough and tender, a manifestation of the emotions he can't quite find words for. His mouth moves down your neck, his kisses becoming more insistent, more possessive, like a man marking his claim.

He needs you, and he's making it painfully clear. You moan softly, your head leaning to the side to give him better access. Jake's hands grip your hips as he kisses your neck, his lips tracing a path of fire along your skin. The sound of your soft moans only emboldens him, his own body responding to your noises in kind.

You feel him harden against you, a physical reminder of his desire for you. His kisses grow more intense, his teeth gently nipping at your skin as he tries to reign in his self-control.

He wants more. He needs more. He growls against your skin, his hands moving under your shirt, his fingers tracing up your sides. He nips lightly at your collarbone, his own need growing with each sound that leaves your lips.

“Mm Jake,” you push against his chest, “Wait.” Jake's body stills as you push against his chest, his mind still clouded with desire. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes hazy and dark.

He tries to process what you're saying, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. He swallows hard, trying to control his racing heart. "Wait... what?" His voice is low and hoarse, his body still pressed against yours, his hands gripping your hip.

“Take me home,” you murmur, intoxicated by his body on yours. Your lips press to his with hunger, arms wrapping around his neck. Jake's brain struggles to process your words, his body still caught in the haze of desire that surrounds you both. But as your lips brush against his again, the sound of your voice, filled with need, cuts through the fog.

He responds to your hunger with his own, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, his body pressed completely against yours.

When the kiss finally breaks, he rests his forehead against yours, his voice a ragged whisper. "Yes. Anything you want." you nod against his head, pulling him closer as you’re unwilling to let him go.

Jake holds you tight as you nod, his arms encircling you possessively, not wanting to let you go either.

He takes a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and trying to gather his thoughts. But the feeling of you in his arms, the sound of your voice, the scent of your skin, they all cloud his mind and make it difficult to do anything but touch you.

He nuzzles his face into your neck, his voice low and rough. "We need to go."

“Mhm,” your hands wander down his chest, to his lower abdomen, moving to his belt. “We really need to,” Your touch on his body sets his nerves on fire, his muscles tensing under your hands as you move them lower. The feel of your fingers on his belt sends a shiver down his spine, his breath hitching at the contact.

He swallows hard, trying to maintain his composure, but your proximity and your touch make it difficult. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he tries to control himself. His voice, when he speaks, is a rough murmur. "Not here.”

You reluctantly pull away from him, handing him the keys from your pocket. Jake takes them from you, his fingers brushing against yours, the contact electric. He watches you pull away, his eyes following your movements closely.

He clenches the keys in his fist, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat in his veins. His body thrums with need, the need to touch you, to hold you, to *claim* you.

He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "Lead the way." you slide into the passenger seat of your car, putting your address into the gps, restlessly waiting for him inside. Jake slides into the driver's seat beside you, his movements quick and urgent. The sight of you in the seat next to him, the knowledge that he's about to take you home, only serves to heighten his desire.

He starts the car, his hand gripping the gear shift tightly, his knuckles turning white. He glances over at you, taking in your restless demeanor, and a smirk crosses his lips. He knows exactly how affected you are, and it only makes his own need surge. Your hand falls to his lap as you squeeze your legs together in anticipation of what's to come.

Jake's breath hitches as your hand lands on his lap, the touch sending a jolt through his body. He can tell how tightly you're holding yourself, how the anticipation is affecting you, and it only adds to his own desire.

His eyes flicker down to your hand on his lap, and he has to fight the urge to pull the car over and take you right then and there.

He keeps his eyes on the road, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. "We're almost there." His voice is hoarse, filled with tension.

“Almost,” you whisper in response, moving your fingertips over his bulge, teasing his body.

Your fingers brush over his erection, and he lets out a strangled gasp. His hand flies to yours, pressing your hand against him, as if trying to both stop you and encourage you at the same time.

He clenches his jaw, his body tensing at your touch. "Tease," he mutters through clenched teeth, his eyes darting from the road to you and back again. He groans, his body aching for release. You move closer, using your free hand to unbuckle his belt.

You successfully remove his belt, fingers fumbling with the button and zipper. Jake's breath catches in his throat as you move closer, your hands working on removing his pants. His body tenses, both in anticipation and because he's trying to focus on driving.

He bites back another curse as you unbutton and unzip his pants, his eyes flickering between the road and your hands. He grips the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles white with tension. "We're almost there," he repeats, his voice strained. "Just... just hold on a little longer."

“Fifteen more minutes,” you groan, hand sliding into his pants. Jake's body jerks at your touch, his hips lifting involuntarily, seeking more of your touch. He lets out a low, ragged groan, struggling to keep his focus on the road.

He looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. "Fifteen minutes," he repeats in agreement, his voice gravelly and rough, "that's it. I can last fifteen minutes." He reaches down, his hand covering yours, but not pushing you away, his touch firm and possessive.

“Mm, but I can’t.” you murmur as you free him from his boxers, his erection standing straight up. Your words and your touch send a shiver down Jake's spine, his body responding to your every move.

He closes his eyes for a moment, your touch like fire to his skin, the air in the car suddenly thick. "Jesus," he breathes, his head falling back, "you're going to make me crash."

As you stroke him gently, Jake's eyes fly open, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "If you keep doing that, I'm not going to be able to drive," he warns, his voice strained with desire.

Ignoring Jake's warning, you lean in and press a soft kiss to his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. His body jolts with surprise and pleasure. Your hand continues to stroke him as your mouth moves closer to his erection, and with a strangled groan, he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road, the tires screeching against the pavement.

His eyes lock onto yours, a mix of desire and alarm, but he says nothing as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, the heat of your mouth enveloping him. His hands fly to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as you begin to suck, the rhythm slow and tantalizing.

His hands grasp your shoulders, gently but firmly, and he pulls you away from his lap. "Wait, wee can't do this here," he says, his voice strained with need and concern. His eyes are dark with desire, but he's visibly fighting to regain control. "Not here, this wouldn’t be right." His words hang in the air, and for a moment, the only sound is the heavy panting of your breath and the pulsing of his erection against your hand.

You reluctantly pull back, your own desire warring with the understanding in his gaze. "Let's go to your place," he suggests, his voice still thick with lust. "We can... talk things out properly there." He releases you, his hands dropping to the steering wheel as he takes several deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

He speeds to your place, rushing to get you inside. The tension in the car is palpable as Jake shifts it into park, his eyes never leaving yours. You both exit the vehicle, and he takes your hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle given the fiery passion that had flared between you moments ago. As you enter your townhouse, the urgency from the car seems to dissipate slightly, allowing for a brief moment of awkwardness to settle in.

You unlock the door and lead him inside, the cool air conditioning a stark contrast to the heat that still simmers between you. Once the door is closed, Jake turns to you, his gaze searching your face for any hint of regret or hesitation. Seeing none, he leans in, capturing your mouth in a kiss that's both desperate and tender.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, as if trying to erase the years of hurt and distance. His hands roam over your body, reacquainting themselves with your curves, and for a moment, it feels like no time has passed at all.

The kiss deepens, and Jake's hands move to the button of your pants, his fingers deftly undoing it and sliding the zipper down. You gasp into his mouth as he breaks the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he kneels before you. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

His gaze travels downward, taking in your wetness with a mix of hunger and awe. "Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire, before pressing his mouth to your inner thigh, kissing and nipping the sensitive flesh as he moves closer to your center. His tongue traces the line of your pussy, eliciting a moan from deep within you. His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks you with purposeful strokes, the heat of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You lean back, falling into the couch, your legs spreading wider, giving him full access to explore and taste you. The tension of the day dissipates as he worships your body, his mouth working magic on your clit, his hands exploring and caressing you as if trying to make up for lost time. The air is thick with the scent of arousal, the only sounds in the room your muffled moans and the wet sounds of his tongue against your skin.

Jake's eyes meet yours again, and you can see the need in them, the raw desire that matches your own. You reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, urging him closer, whispering his name as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge.

As Jake continues to kiss and suck on your clit, you can't help but squirm against his mouth, the sensations building to an unbearable peak. You grab onto his shoulders for support, your moans growing louder with each passing moment.

Suddenly, the dam breaks and you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. He doesn't pull away, instead, he laps up every drop of your release, groaning with his own pleasure at the taste of you.

As the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse onto the couch, panting and trembling, your eyes fluttering open to meet his intense gaze. He stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face. "See, we can still get along," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

The sight of him standing there, looking so confident and desperate for more, makes your heart race. You can't deny the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that's always been there. But as you look into his eyes, you know that this isn't just about sex.

Jake's kisses slowly travel up your legs, turning from hungry to gentle pecks that make your skin tingle with sensitivity. His eyes never leave yours as he shifts his body, moving from his knees to the couch beside you. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can feel his heart racing in sync with your own.

His other hand continues to trace patterns on your bare thigh, the softness of his touch a stark contrast to the fervor of moments ago. His eyes are filled with a tenderness that you never knew existed within him, and it's this that has your chest tightening with a mix of emotions.

With trembling hands, Jake fumbles with his zipper, the metal teeth parting with a low hiss. His eyes never leave your face, the intensity of his gaze setting your skin alight. He swiftly pushes his pants down to his thighs, freeing his erection. It stands tall and proud, a testament to his desire. The room feels like it's closing in, the air thick with anticipation.

You pull him to you by his collar, kissing his lips hungrily. The fabric of his shirt is rough against your skin, but the heat of his body underneath is anything but. His tongue meets yours with an urgency that mirrors your own, your kisses deepening as his hand slides up your shirt, palming your breast. You arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as his thumb grazes your nipple.

He pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. He kisses you again, his tongue invading your mouth with a passion that leaves you breathless. You can feel him, hot and hard, pressing against your wetness, and it's all you can do to not grind down onto him immediately.

Jake's hands are everywhere, exploring the curves of your body as if he's worshiping a sacred relic. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin as he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of soft, sucking marks that make you shiver with pleasure. His teeth graze your skin, not hard enough to break it, but enough to leave a sting that makes your pulse race.

As your moans fill the quiet room, you can't help but move your hand to wrap around his erection. Your grip is firm, your strokes measured as you watch his face contort with pleasure. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back, and the noises he makes are pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You stroke him faster, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your racing heart.

His hips buck upward, meeting your hand with each stroke, his breath coming in short, ragged pants. You can feel the tension in his body, the coiled spring of his muscles ready to snap. And when he's right there, on the precipice of climax, his head falls forward into the crook of your neck, his mouth finding your skin.

The feel of his needy moans against your flesh sends a shiver down your spine, your own body responding to the raw, primal sounds. You tighten your grip, your strokes becoming quicker, more erratic, your own breathing syncing with his. Each moan that escapes his lips is like a command, urging you to bring him over the edge.

His body tenses beneath you, his muscles tightening like a bowstring about to snap. And then it happens. With a guttural moan, he cums undone in your hand, his release hot and sticky as it coats your palm and fingers. His hips jerk upward, his cock pulsing in your grip as he rides out the waves of pleasure. His eyes squeeze shut, and his breath comes out in sharp gasps.

For a moment, there's silence, save for the sound of your own racing heart and his labored breathing. You sit there, still straddling him, watching him come down from the high of his orgasm. His chest is heaving, his eyes still closed as he savors the feeling.

You slide from his lap, relaxing into your couch as the weight of your actions crashes over you. You turn your back to him, biting your lip as you think about what to do next.

Jake watches you, his eyes tracing the curves of your body, still trying to regain his breath. He reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, his touch gentle but insistent. "Look at me," he murmurs, his voice raspy and rough.

You turn to him with a breathy sigh, avoiding his gaze. Jake notices your averted eyes, his fingers moving to your chin, gently lifting it until you're forced to meet his gaze.

"Don't look away," he whispers, his eyes searching yours. "I want to see you."

"Jake," you whisper his name, eyes softening at his expression. You knew it wasn’t a mistake, it couldn't be, not on your part. You've been in love with him your whole life, but what if it was all lust for him.

Jake cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the lines of your cheekbones. He can see the mixture of emotions in your eyes - love, lust, fear, and regret. He gently shakes his head, his gaze intense.

“Jake, is this really what you wanted?” you take a deep breath, “Not just some game to you?”

Jake watches you intently as you withdraw, his hands falling to your waist, his touch firm yet gentle. "This isn't a game to me," he says, his voice serious. "It never was."

He pulls you closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've always wanted you, more than anything else," he continues, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. "But I thought I lost my chance with you a long time ago." he presses a soft kiss to your chest.

The tension in your body vanishes the second he speaks, you relax into his touch, audibly sighing. “Always?”

Jake smiles, his hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every contour. "Always," he confirms, his voice a whisper. "Since we were kids." He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. He can feel your tension melting away, replaced by an air of comfortable intimacy.

“You’re confusing,” you sigh, feeling his hands pulling you closer to him, his chin resting on top of your breasts.

Jake chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. "I know," he replies, his arms encircling you possessively. "I've always had a habit of making you scratch your head, haven't I?"

He nuzzles his face against your chest, his tongue tracing a gentle line between your cleavage. "But that's nothing new," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "I've always gotten a kick out of confusing you."

You gasp in response to his tongue, hands squeezing his shoulders. “Mm, fuck.” Jake feels your hands clenching his shoulders, and he grins against your skin, his tongue continuing to explore the valley between your breasts.

"Language, princess," he teases, his voice laced with amusement. "You know how I feel about filthy mouths."His lips move up to your neck, gently nipping at the sensitive skin. "Makes me want to shut you up."

“Are you going to be able to be professional at work?” your murmur, hands tangling in his hair as you force him to look at you.

Jake chuckles, his eyes meeting yours. "Are you kidding me?" he counters, his grin widening. "When have I ever been professional when it comes to you?"

He shakes his head, pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "I've been trying to hide how I feel about you for years. Do you really think now that I've finally got you in my arms, I'm going to play it cool at work?"

“Jake,” you purse your lips at him, pressing a quick peck to his. “You know that I already have a problem with your coworkers…I don't want to make it worse.”

Jake lets out a groan of frustration, his hands moving to the small of your back, pulling you even closer. "I know, I know," he mutters, his lips returning to your neck. "But can you blame me for acting like a possessive jerk? You've got all those guys drooling over you, and it drives me insane."

“They only drool over me because of how form fitting my uniform is,” you reply sweetly, “Now imagine if they saw me in a bikini.” you whisper against his ear teasingly.

Jake's grip on you tightens, his breath hitching at your words. "A bikini," he repeats, his voice dropping an octave. "Now that's a mental image I'll have trouble getting out of my head."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, his gaze dark with desire. "You like teasing me, don't you?" he accuses, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "You know what that does to me."

“I think we need to take a beach trip one of these days,” you smile innocently.

Jake's hands continue to roam your body, his touch growing more possessive. "A beach trip?" he echoes, his mind already filling with images of you in a bikini. "That's a dangerous idea, princess."

He leans in, his lips moving to your ear. "But I like how you think," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.

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writing-until-i-drop · 7 months ago

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Gummy Bears | Comfort Drabble wc: 438

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

You and Jake are on a road trip to visit his sister and you have the most important job, passenger princess.

Warnings! A little suggestive, allusions to smut but no smut, fluffy and domestic

Requested by @closetspngirl

You leaned your head against the window, watching the scenery go by in a blur. Jake had insisted that instead of flying to see his sister in New Mexico, the two of you should drive the 700 miles instead.

The thought of a 12 hour drive hadn't been appealing at first but Jake knew how to convince you. Sitting in his truck in the Hard Deck parking lot he had pulled you into his lap, kissing you senseless before lavishing your neck with attention, bruising the delicate skin while your noises filled the cab. Knowing you were putty in his hands, that's when Jake asked,

"Don't you want to be my passenger princess, darlin'?" When you finally gave in, he made sure you had nothing but good memories of the passenger seat (and the backseat just to be safe).

Now you were curled into yourself in the passenger seat with one of Jake's larger hands resting on your thigh, fighting off a yawn and failing.

"Take a nap, darlin',"

"M'not tired." You spotted a sign for one of the nicer gas stations, "Get off here, baby. I just need some sugar."

"I can give you some sugar," Jake dropped his voice making you giggle.

"Shut up," He laughed as you batted his hand off your thigh for wandering too far and took the exit as requested.

Jake guided you into the gas station, his hand in your back pocket. He kept himself pressed against your back, making sure no one even thought about coming near you and even though it was a tad over protective, you loved it. Jake was always like this in new places, not trusting strangers anywhere near you.

"What does my girl want for her snack, hmm?" He kissed your neck as you debated your options.

"I'm between the gummy bears and the M&Ms." Jake grabbed both and guided you towards the drinks,

"Is there a reason you're rushing me, Lieutenant?" He squeezed your ass,

"Just want to get back on the road and to our hotel room."

"We'd be there by now if we had flown," You laughed, grabbing two waters and a soda from the coolers. "But no, someone just haaaaaad to drive." Jake shook his head at you, stealing a chaste kiss that left you wanting more as he paid and pulled you back to the truck.

Despite the candy and caffeine, you fell asleep not long later with Jake's hand holding yours, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. When you woke up a few hours later you blindly reached for your gummy bears, only to find the pack empty.

"Jacob!"

#top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun maverick #fanfic #jake seresin x oc #hangman x oc #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman fluff #jake seresin fluff #comfort drabbles #comfort #bet writes #ask bet

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bradshawsvinyl · 1 year ago

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Castles Crumbling

Tolerate It (Part two)

read part one here.

authors note: not sure if this is the ending you guys were expecting but I hope you like it!

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, miscommunication tropes.

It was two in the morning when Jake softly unlocked the door to the home he shared with you. He silently took off his shoes and went upstairs to see where you were. He knew taking off on you was wrong. He knew that you just wanted to let him in. All you ever tried to do was love him and all he ever did was shut you out.

He had been planning to propose to you. He was constantly in communication with your best friend Julianna. He was talking to her about things he didn’t quite understand like ring sizes and diamonds. He wanted to make this proposal perfect for you. He wanted to give you everything you deserved and more.

But work was stressing him out. Maverick warned Jake and the rest of the squad that they would be shipping off for an important mission in the next three months. The mission details were classified. All Maverick said was that they’d better prepare their families for the possibility that they might not come back.

Mortality had never scared Jake away from doing his job. He knew he was one of the best fighter pilots in the nation. That was why he was a part of Top Gun.

Mortality never scared Jake until he met you. He knew he loved you. You were the only person he ever saw a future with. Kids, a dog, a white picket fence, he wanted that with you. But in the back of his mind, he knew there was a chance that something could go wrong on a mission. He didn’t want to leave you alone with kids or make you a widow. He couldn’t do that to you. And so he did the only thing he knew how to do. He ran.

Jake crept upstairs and found you sitting up in bed reading a book. “I thought you would be asleep by now.” He said while sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t sleep if you’re not here. You know that Seresin.” You replied, still looking at the words in your hands.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly. “I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to shut you out and I-“

“Don’t even,” You interrupted him. “You can’t keep doing this to me Jake. It isn’t fair. All I've ever wanted to do was help you. You can’t keep shutting me out.”

“Baby, I know I'm sorry I'm just overwhelmed with work. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You didn’t know what else to do?” You replied, voice rising from anger. “You could’ve talked to me. You didn’t have to leave me here crying like an idiot over something that I don’t even know about.”

“I know it’s just that I'm not the best at dealing with my emotions.” He said softly. “I love you.”

“Why was Julianna calling you then?” You changed the subject.

“What do you…” Jake started.

“Don’t play stupid Seresin. I saw her call you five times in the span of 10 minutes. She’s my friend. You’ve only met her a few times. Why would she be calling you at ten o'clock at night?”

Jake’s just looked at you in disbelief. There was nothing going on between him and Julianna. He was simply asking her for her opinion on how to propose and what ring to buy. She was your best friend after all. He couldn’t believe that you would think he was cheating on you with her. If you asked him to give you the moon, he would’ve done it. No questions asked.

“What are you insinuating?” He said slowly growing more angry when he realized what you thought he was doing.

“I’m insinuating that you’re seeing her on the side.” You said, near tears. “Just tell me the truth Jake. I can’t keep sitting here wondering why you’re shutting me out. You can’t keep leaving me here like an idiot.”

“Listen,” he said while grabbing your hands. “There is nothing going on between me and Julianna. I just needed to ask her something. That’s it. I would never cheat on you. You’re the only person I could ever love.”

“So why won’t you let me in.” You whispered. “If it’s not her then who? You won’t talk to me anymore. You won’t touch me. You barely even look at me.”

Suddenly Jake’s face dropped. “I might not come back.” He said, so softly that you might have missed it if you weren’t right next to him.

“What do you mean you might not come back?” You said growing more and more confused.

“Maverick said that this next mission is going to be dangerous. He said to hope for the best but expect the worst and I just-“ Suddenly Jake started sobbing.

You were shocked. Suddenly things started making sense. He was shutting you out because he didn’t want you to be hurt if he didn’t come back. You knew Jake tended to be more quiet when there was a tough mission coming up.

You pulled him into a tight hug and began to comfort him. “Why didn’t you tell me? I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on with you.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just trying to protect you.” He said.

“I’m here for you no matter what.” You said, eyes beginning to fill with tears. “We’re a team. You have to tell me if there’s something happening. I love you.”

“I’m sorry.” He said while kissing your cheek. “I didn’t want to be a burden. I should’ve told you about the mission sooner. You’re my rock. I love you.”

As your tears and Jake's tears subside, he holds you tightly. You hold him back feeling all the walls between the two of you crumble.

Jake knew two things for certain. He would come home to you, and he would marry you.

#jake hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman top gun #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x oc #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #hangman x you #hangman angst #top gun hangman #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #my writing #glen powell x reader #glen powell #top gun x you #top gun 1986

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jackiequick · 15 days ago

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Livin’ On A Prayer | Top Gun Marverick Fanfic AU ✈️

Established Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ x Amber ‘Skysolo’ Kazansky , Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky x Hazel ‘Daredevil’ Quinn

Characters mentioned: Wraith, Georgia ‘Peach’ Wells, Frostbite, Dane ‘Bone Saw’ Bradshaw & Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, Maverick and etc

Timeline: 3 Years Post-Top Gun Maverick

Summary: Jacob Seresin never in a million years thought he’d be asking the Admiral a very simple yet important question

Notes: ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I WRITTEN A FIC FOR THIS FANDOM 😘 (pls be nice!!)

~~~

~~~~~~

He was sweating. He was nervous. He might as well been a little nauseous.

This was rare for him. Hangman is never this anxious for anything. But the fact that he was so happy yet terrified of the prospect? That made him nervous.

For the past three years, he’s been on cloud nine.

He’s studying to become an official member of Top Gun, to someday teach a group of young pilots and not just go out on missions where he’s deployed from weeks or months at a time. He has been able to rekindle friendships with his fellow Daggers and been to a few of their previous projects as well. But the biggest thing was that he found himself in the position of being with The Admiral’s daughter.

Amber Nic Kazansky.

Never in a billion years would Jake ever believe he’d be here. He’s been so busy and terrified of a commitment relationship before, in fear that if he’d ever get into a situation where something bad happened to him—he will be leaving his loved ones behind and completely heartbroken. Or worse.

But when a certain Angel walked into his life? Oh jeez, he couldn’t help but feel a burst of emotion and curiosity, that made him completely uneasy yet excited at the same time.

And now, here he stood outside of her parent’s house about to ask the biggest question of his life.

Yeah, sure, he could’ve asked Maverick or Frost to Amber’s hand in marriage. But he knew deep down, he’d just needed to get to the source of his love. Daredevil and Iceman—Tom and Hazel. Wraith, Danny, Frostbite and even his own sister said, he’d probably chock on his own spit. Oh god, he hoped not.

With a deep and steady breath, he knocked on the door of the house today. He waited on the front porch eyeing every single detail of the house. The flowers, the swing on the front porch, the coloring of the door, and how the windows to the living room were cracked open to let in the cold breeze. Oh gosh—this must’ve been anyone’s guess to run now and save yourself.

GAH! What was Jake saying?! He’s been to this house plenty of times before and even cracked a beer with this family more times than he can count! Suddenly he’s scared shitless? Great job, Hangman…you’re screwed.

He quickly snapped out of it once the door swung open to showcase the lovely brunette who lived here. Hazel smiled softly, her hair was tossed in a low bun, black jeans and a navy blue graphic t-shirt hung loosely underneath her sweater. Hell, she was wearing slippers with socks on. That gave Jake some relief.

“Jake, hi.” Hazel greeted him, leaning her body weight over the doorway, “How are you, honey?”

“Hi ma’am.” He greeted in return with a smile, “I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

“That’s good, sweetheart. Um Amber isn’t here, she’s out with Peach and Phoenix, sorry.”

“Oh no, no! I mean…I know, I know that she is. I actually came by to see you.”

“Me? For what for? Did you boys get in trouble again?”

Jake laughed and shook his head. Maverick, him and the rest of daggers had a silly reputation of getting in trouble sometimes, resulting in needing someone to bail them out. Mainly Audrey, Ice and Hazel.

“No, no, we’re fine.” He replied reassuringly her, “I think it’s better if I do this inside. It’s pretty chilly out here.”

Hazel nods smiling as she led him into the kitchen. The two chatted softly about work and how things were going in their personal lives, as Hazel poured him a drink. They chuckled and smiled as they spoke, until the brunette remembered what Jake originally came here for.

“So, Jake, what did you want to ask me?” Hazel asked kindly, taking a sip of her drink.

He paused sipping his drink midway through as he took a breather and answered, “Well…um, it’s something involving me and your daughter.”

“You’re not having trouble with your relationship, are you? Because then there will be an issue. ”

“What?! No! No! We’re good, we’re pretty good. Honestly we’re doing amazing, I think.”

Hazel put her drink down in curiosity, as she searched Hangman’s eyes for an answer. From the moment he walked in, she could practically smell something was happening in his behavior. He was usually cheeky, extremely warm and friendly with others, aside from his cocky demeanor at times. Overall she liked him. But today? He was pretty much just not his usual self.

“Jake.” She started with a kind yet strong tone, “Whatever it is. You can tell me, might as well say it now or forever hold your peace.”

He nods and cleared his throat before smiling as he strongly stated, “I want to marry your daughter, Ms. Kazansky.”

Hazel was silent for a moment. Her expression seemed almost content yet calm, as if trying to figure out what exactly he was implying here. Yet, she couldn’t help but let a grin rise to her lips. She shook her head fondly and exhaled lightly. She did tell him to say it now or forever hold his peace. And he stated that firmly, she admired that part. She’ll have to talk with Tom about all of this later on, of course.

Jake stood there, shifting between his hands and her gaze, waiting for her to speak and say something. But by her expression, he could tell she was thinking positive about his statement.

“Yes.” Hazel said softly after a long pause as she nodded fondly, “Okay.”

“Okay?” Jake asked repeatedly her words, trying to understand what she meant by that.

“Mhm, ‘okay’ as in, yes, you can marry Amber.”

Jake just stared at her blankly as Hazel burst into laughter and shook her head fondly, running her fingers through her hair.

“What? You thought I was going to bite your head off?” She asked, snorting and grinning at him.

He only nodded and awkwardly shrugging before replying, “Sorta? Bradshaw practically said that you might as well, straight up kick me out.”

“Bradley is just to scare ya. If anything, the person who would try to do that is Wraith. Me on the other hand? You, Jake, have earned my respect and trust in your decision to be with Amber.”

“Thanks, Ms. Kazansky. It means a lot coming from you, really.”

She couldn’t help but smirk as she asked, “Now, did my future son in law buy my girl a ring yet?”

Jake only shook his head and chuckled, “No, no, i haven’t. Coyote is planning on helping me out with that later…”

“…but first you need my husband’s permission for her hand in marriage?”

“Yup.” Jake replied before chuckling to himself remembering how he stood earlier, “Actually I was terrified that he would be the one to open the door first and not you.”

Hazel once more chuckled and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before replying, “Hey, you have nothing to worry about, Jake.”

“Eh, did you forget that your husband has diplomatic immunity in 46 countries?”

“…right. Well, he knows you will never hurt his girl, and if you did? Kid, you might as well have asked Maverick first to save your ass. Good luck, honey.”

~~~~

~~~~~~~

Mrs. Quinn-Kazansky pointed out that her husband was in his study as usual on Wednesday afternoons.

Tom always had a rather decent routine on Wednesdays—wake up early for a walk, head over to the library with his wife, check on his friendships and return home to stay in his home office to get as much work done as possible—afterwards the rest of the day, he was in his study. Then as the night came, he’ll find himself on the couch enjoying a movie.

The older blonde was sitting at his desk, dressed in grey sweatpants, a dark green cardigan, and some sandals. Not to forget his reading glasses. His fingers were tapping against the keyboard as he wrote another email. He heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!” He called out, as his gaze fell upon the door that slowly swung open.

His expression softened slightly seeing who entered his study, however his eyebrows stayed harden as they furrowed. Hangman was in his study this afternoon. It wasn’t uncommon for the young blonde to be at his house for multiple reasons, but it was odd for him to enter his study. Rare even.

“Sir.” Jake greeted him politely with a soft smile as he walked in further, “Is this a bad time?”

Tom inhales deeply checking the time on his watch and then shifted his focus to Jake. He could always use a much needed break from his schedule. He shook his head and stood up from the chair briefly to greet him as he smiled.

“Not at all, Jake.” He replied shaking his head and gesturing for him to sit down in one of chairs provided. “How you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good, sir.” Answered the younger blonde with a light smile. “How about you?”

“Ah, you know how it is. Work, travel and going to events every so often.”

“Sounds busy.” Jake said chuckling softly.

Tom nods as he chuckled, “More or less, if not I’ll hand over my work to Slider.”

“Anything in particular that you’re looking forward to?”

“The Naval Ball.” Tom answered as a grin approached on his lips, “Are you going this year?”

Jake broke into a matching expression and chuckled before nodding, “I will. And hopefully I might get to join your family at the table soon.”

“I don’t truly follow, kid. What do you mean?”

At that, Jake realized he might’ve slipped a little too early on the reason why he’s here. He bit in his inner, shifting his gaze between the older blonde and the pictures frames on his desks, as if trying to figure out what to say next. Tom’s expression was one of confusion, intrigue and slight patience, as his eyebrows grew more firm.

Seresin will never admit but if anything, he’s a bit more anxious than he expected. Ever since he realize he was dating The Admiral ‘Iceman’ Kazansky’s daughter—His only child that he had raised since birth by himself, until Hazel came along and made their family grow into something amazing—he knew if ever broke Amber’s heart, he’d be a dead man.

As calm, sharp and collected as Tom can be on the outside, with a presence that can make anyone respect him, on the inside? There was an ice cold storm brewing, that you won’t find until you provoked it hard enough or you did something wrong to make it relevant to the game. Overall? Tom is one of the most respectable and kindhearted man in the lineup of Admirals within this side of the country.

And if asking Hazel seemed easier than expected, then Tom would be tougher to deal with. That meant he had to choose his words carefully.

~~~

After a long pause, realizing that he might’ve zoned out into his thoughts and cleared his throat, catching the other man’s attention. Jake took a breath before speaking.

“I meant, it’s actually the exact reason I came here, sir.” Jake started sitting up a bit in his chair. “As you know, I’ve been with your daughter for the past three years now…and we’ve been doing pretty well so far.”

Tom nods as he smiled, “That I do know, yes. You make my daughter very happy, Jake, and I’m glad about that fact.”

“Uh, thank you, Mr. Kazansky. I’m always happy to hear that you’re feeling good about our relationship, because I want to ask you something about that.”

“Go on. I’m sure it must be important if you came here to see me personally.”

“It is, yes..”

Jake took a breath, inhaling deeply and pushing away his nerves as it said the next line.

“I’ll like to have your permission to marry Amber, sir.” Jake said firmly, however you can hear in the unfamiliar tone in his speech. “Look. I understand I might not have been the first choice, you had when you pictured sharing your daughter with…I’m a bit impulsive, and unprofessional at times, I even been known loose my cool if I feel like I need to one up the competition…but you seen my record and reports on the field. I like to believe I’m a good pilot.”

Tom just nodded silently, his expression stern and steady as if he was reading the younger blonde.

Jake continued, “But when it comes to Amber, well…from the very first moment I saw her, I didn’t know what hit me in that bar, I just knew I needed to say something. Before I knew it, the weeks went by and I fell in love with her. And ever since, as much as I may act dumb..or silly, I do it to make sure she’s okay. She’s my angel in a way…? So anyways, I just want you to know that I promise to be a good man to her, even if you deny my request..”

Tom simply doesn’t say a single word as he nods once more. He just watches Jake.

He wasn’t blindsided by the fact that the man in front of him was a good pilot or proud fighter. He wasn’t afraid to tell his friends that Jake was a good boyfriend to Amber. He wasn’t a bit surprised by the way he respects and praised her. Tom knew his daughter was a beauty to care for and protect at the end of the day.

However, he grew increasingly worried as Amber was growing up that she will never find anyone who appreciated and gave her the same amount of patience or encouragement that he gave her. Before Hazel, he was just him and his daughter, along with their friends. In response? He grew protective and almost always steered away from anyone who tried to mess with her.

Maverick would call him overprotective but then again, his best friend and wing man, understood deeply onto the feelings he held for his child.

Tom made sure that if Amber ever had a boyfriend, they will know he meant business. Ice cold, no mistakes, just like his callsign. His daughter wasn’t something to mess around with and if someone harmed her? Well, there is a reason his best friends were ranked very well, in the positions they played.

He knew someday his little girl will be walked down the aisle to her future husband and Tom will never admitted—it’s probably a cliche at best—but no man will ever make his princess happy as much as him. No one was ever good enough for his daughter. That she’d stay young forever and never leave his arms.

Or so he thought.

And here stood Jacob ‘Hangman’ Seresin in a moment of vulnerability asking for his permission to have his own daughter, become his wife.

“Okay.” Tom started in a soft tone, “To be honest, when Amber first told me about you, I thought that she was incredibly tired and wasn’t thinking straight. Because most pilots you met at the bar aren’t always in your best interest.”

“I-sir.” Jake said opening his mouth to defend himself, but was cut off by the older men who held up his hand.

“I thought that my Amby is going to have to be extremely cautious about this. Especially when I found out your position on the Uranium Mission with Maverick and the other Daggers. And when I read your file? I realized what my wingman and I had to keep an eye out for you as time went on.”

“Sir, in my defense i was—”

“And then you saved the day in the end. Maverick sang yours and the Daggers praises…so i figured, why not give this hot shot a chance? And as you know, I wasn’t too excited about meeting, but i was earger..”

“I know..”

~~~~

Suddenly, Tom stood up pouring himself a glass of water seltzer, due to Hazel’s persistence in making sure he stayed in good health, and kindly offered him a glass. Jake gladly accepted the offer and took a sip of his drink, waiting for Tom to continue. His gaze followed the older blonde as he nodded.

“But afterwards, I realized that you had very strong potential to earn my respect.” Tom said taking a sip of her seltzer water and turning around to lean around the countertop as he smile. “Soon enough, in the past 3 years, you earned my respect, my trust and my credibility. You proved how much you value your career, your friendships and loved ones. Most importantly? You proved to me how passionate and commitment, you are to my Amber.”

Jake couldn’t help but smile graciously at his compliments. He nods politely, having never heard anything like that, from any other father he met before. It gave him a sense of pride and hope for the rest of his day.

Tom continued, “But Jake, i gotta know, if you marry her, you understand that with the career you have, there are risks? She’ll be married to that part and you will have to accept everything in between.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows at his question, because he knew that his girlfriend was a daughter of an Admiral, so she understood things. But he also marriage to Amber meant that it’s different in a sense, because she would be more likely involved in things. Moving into a larger house, deployments will hurt a bit more, planning or going to events, kids might be involved someday and so much more.

But he thought, hey if I managed to do this relationship with Amber so far, what’s the long haul for anyway? It’s a ride that he’s willing to take!

His gaze shifted to Iceman with a confident expression as he nods, “I understand that, sir. And I intend to make sure I can go back home at the end of the day to be with her…”

Tom smiled, staring off into the distance as he responded, “You know? When I first married Hazel, I wasn’t so sure of everything that will happen to us but I had confidence that we will figure it out. The best part was—is coming home to her in the end, knowing that we were okay.”

“That sounds lovely. I hope I can feel the same way someday.”

“Oh, you will.”

Jake furrow his eyebrows in confusion as Tom opened up one of a drawers, and removed a small piece of jewelry from it. In a swift gesture, he took the younger blonde’s hand and carefully placed in his palm, as Jake looked at him with a wide smile.

“You have my full respect and permission to marry her.” Tom said grinning softly, his voice filled with high regard. “Make me proud, son.”

“I will.” Jake replied returning the soft grin.

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~

~~~

AHHH I WROTE THIS WITHOUT A DAY, SO I HOPE YALL LIKE IT!! 🙈✨I didn’t proofread this but I had a fun time making it.

Pls let me know what you think 💭 remember to like, comment and share

Tags: @rose-of-oz @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @missstrawbs2001 @halesfavoriteharlot @topgun-imagines @mandylove1000 @starkleila @buckysteveloki-me @hangmanbrainrot @teacupsandtopgun @djs8891 @rickb-chaos @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @yetanotherwells @ximehs @rowinablx @daggerspared @superspookyjanelle @starryinspace @triptuckers @hardballoonlove @savemewattpad @alldaysdreamers @fallout-girl219 @ohgodnotagainn etc

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thewulf · 10 months ago

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Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You��re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Adult Education Part 23 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake has found everything he needs in one person. He knows deep inside that nothing is going to change Jessica's love for him, but he's nervous to tell her what's been on his mind. When he opens himself up to her even more, she gives him everything he wants.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, pegging, anal, language, 18+

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Epilogue Part Two

Five more months later...

Jessica was just settling down on the couch with a mug of tea when Jake got home from work. "Hey, Baby," he said as he undid the top buttons on his khaki uniform shirt. "How was your day?"

"Not bad," she replied, absolutely loving that her Fridays ended early this term. "I started making a list of what we need to pack for Cabo, and I printed out my final exam sheets. Dinner's in the oven, and I'm about to email Luca back. He asked me if I wanted him to stop by with his skateboard next week. Isn't he adorable?"

Jake smirked as she reached for him. "You made dinner? Seriously?"

She rolled her eyes as she said, "Don't be silly, Smart Boy. I took the pan of lasagna that you left in the refrigerator and put it in the oven."

"Yeah, that makes more sense," he drawled as she looked up at him from the couch.

"Your uniforms are ruining my life," she whispered as she ran her hands along his thigh and took his zipper pull between her thumb and index finger. "Ever since I actually flew with you in your flight suit, I can't get enough of all of these things. I've been enjoying all the role playing."

Jake pressed his lips together, a thoughtful look on his face. "I noticed you've been having a lot of fun bossing me around lately."

She hummed as she kissed his zipper. "That's an understatement. I loved it when you called me Admiral Reed while you wore your dress blues. Speaking of which... I haven't seen them recently."

"Special occasions, Baby. Can't wear them every day," he told her, and she made a disappointed sound as he took one step away from her.

"Where are you going? I was about to give you a blowjob."

To her knowledge, Jake had never turned her down. Ever. Not once in over ten months with him. She sat still on the couch and watched him rake his fingers a bit nervously through his hair. The more she looked at him, the more she realized he didn't quite seem like himself, and she hopped up from the couch and went to him.

"You can tell me what's wrong, Jake," she promised softly. "Did I do something?"

"No," he replied with conviction. "You didn't do a damn thing wrong, Baby. I've just had something on my mind."

"Oh." She was trying to think of a single positive thing that would get this reaction out of him, but she could only come up with negatives. Her mind was supplying scenarios that would be enough to break her heart as he studied her with pensive green eyes.

"I really like that," he muttered, gaze falling to the floor. "When you kind of... take control." His face was flushed a pretty shade of pink, and Jessica couldn't stop staring. He was so obviously nervous, and he didn't meet her eyes until she pressed her palm to his warm cheek. "I like it when you do that."

"Okay," she replied with a little nod. "Then I'll do it more often."

He huffed out an exasperated breath and looked up at the ceiling now. "Jessica... I've never asked for anything like this before. And I don't really know how to do it now."

She used both hands to tip his face down again so he was looking at her once more. His pupils were wide, and his lips were set in a firm line, and she had no idea what was running through his mind that was making him react this way. "You can tell me anything, Jake. You can ask for what you want. I do it all the time. I ask you to buy me lingerie and toys, and you always do."

"This is different," came his immediate response. "I don't know if you'll like it. Hell, I don't even know if I'll like it."

She scraped her nails gently along his stubble and tried to imagine what he wanted. She'd give him anything. "Is it something kinky?" she asked, tracing his lip as he nodded. "You're just going to have to tell me then, and I promise I'll at least consider it."

Jake seemed to be gathering his thoughts as her hand drifted down his neck to his shirt where she slowly traced the letters in SERESIN over and over again until he whispered, "Okay. Baby, you know how we bought all those toys from that one website?" When she nodded, he added, "And you know how we kind of skipped the one category?"

She could picture the night they were curled up on the couch with her phone, adding things to the shopping cart with reckless abandon until they'd spent over five hundred dollars. She could also clearly picture the collection of dildos and straps that were available that they didn't touch at all.

"Oh."

He swallowed hard, his eyes growing wide as he started to pull away from her. "Yeah."

But Jessica wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tighter against her body. He was getting a little hard, and then she whispered, "You want me fuck you like that? With a strap-on?"

She really didn't even need the verbal confirmation, not with the way his body reacted and the soft moan that came from the back of his throat. But she kissed him as soon as he said, "Yes."

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

Jake was waiting for things to shift. He was bracing himself for Jessica to look at him differently or change her mind. There was a difference between wants and needs, and he knew that. He wanted to experiment with her, because he trusted her. She brought out emotions he'd never felt before which opened them up to some exciting exploration in the bedroom. He was nervous to tell her what he wanted, but he did it anyway.

But what he needed was for Jessica to say yes when he proposed on vacation in Cabo with the three carat diamond ring he bought. He needed her to say she'd spend the rest of her life with him before they went to Texas for Christmas. But if it were possible for someone to fulfill all of his needs and his wants too, it was Jessica. It was always going to be Jessica.

So he was surprised but not unpleasantly so when after dinner, she stretched out on the couch with her head on his thigh and brought the topic back to the items she mentioned earlier. She looked up at him and said, "We should make sure you're happy with what we pick, but there are a lot of options. And I guess if we buy something and you don't like it, we could always try again?"

"I love you," he whispered, now knowing he hadn't done anything to change the way she felt about him. She smiled softly as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"I love you, too," she promised. "And I'm really excited about this."

Jake sighed in relief. "If you don't think it's fun, we definitely don't need to try it a second time." But she was already pointing out a few different dildos that she found on her phone and holding it up for him to see.

"Oh, Jake," she said with a grin that made him pulse with need. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to have a great time. And this one comes in navy blue... I'm just saying, it would match your uniforms perfectly."

That comment alone left Jake in a state of constant need for the next week while he waited for the goods to arrive. The box was dropped off the following Friday, and Jessica was wearing his robe and smiling like the cat who got the cream when he got home from work. "How was your last day of the semester, Dr. Reed?" he asked softly as she held up the pink box.

"It was good," she replied easily. "And it's about to get even better. We leave for Cabo in the morning, and the new toys are here."

Jake swallowed hard as she handed him the box, and when she untied his robe sash, he was treated to the sight of her in her navy blue lace bra and thong set. "Jessica," he croaked, already turned on and beyond excited.

"Look in the box," she told him, and he realized she had already cut it open. Everything was the same blue color as her lingerie, and he moaned softly when he ran his hand along the smaller of the two dildos. He didn't know if this would feel good or not, but the idea of his girlfriend wearing it was making him hard.

He met her eyes as she said, "If it looks good to you, I'll clean everything and get ready while you change into your dress blues."

"My dress blues?" he asked as she took the box from him.

She bit her lip and moaned. "Do it, Lieutenant Seresin. Put on your dress blues and wait for me in the bedroom."

"Yes, ma'am," he grunted, heading right for the closet without delay. His hands shook slightly as he pulled his uniform from the hanger. He was so excited, he could barely get the tie on himself. He looked at the shoes. Would she want him to wear the shoes? Did he want to skip them and hope for a reprimand? Would she reward him more if he was wearing the full uniform?

He ended up putting them on, and when Jessica walked into the bedroom, he was standing at attention. But his jaw dropped when he saw that she was already wearing the strap-on. No sound came out, but he was gasping for air as she ran her hand up and down the length, casually strolling closer to him.

"This looks good on you, Lieutenant," she purred, and his cock stirred a little more. "I like it when you're dressed for the occasion."

"What's the occasion, Admiral Reed?"

She took his hand in hers and turned the palm up, and then she squeezed out some lube. Then she guided his hand to the dildo, and he helped her coat it up. "You're the one who told me this uniform is just for special occasions, so I'll make it a very special one for you. I'm going to fuck you in the ass until you come."

Jake gasped, his hand tightening around the length, pulling Jessica closer to him. "Please," he whimpered, and she adjusted his hat on his head with her clean hand.

"I can't guarantee this will stay on," she mused, grabbing him by the bicep and turning him so he was facing the bed. Her hands came to rest on his hips from behind, and the toy poked him as she said, "And these definitely won't be staying on."

She reached around and started to undo the front of his pants. This was his Jessica. This was the self assured, beautiful woman of his dreams, and she started jerking him off as his pants fell to the floor. The strap on was rubbing his backside. He could come simply from this.

"Bend over, Lieutenant," she demanded, squeezing his cock with her slick hand before releasing him. He did as he was told, and when his cheek met the bedding, her hands met his ass. "Don't forget, Jake," she said softly. "If you're not enjoying it, the safe word is Sam Adams."

"Thank you, Baby," he whispered, actually feeling a lot more at ease than he imagined. And that's precisely when Jessica's hand landed on his ass with a hard slap.

"Lieutenant Seresin," she barked out. "Your uniform is sloppy. Your pants are on the floor. I have told you so many times to straighten this out!"

"Yes Admiral Reed, ma'am," he replied, his voice shaking with need as his cock twitched against the bed. "I'll do better next time."

She laughed, and Jake could hear her uncap the bottle of lube just before he felt her squeeze it onto his backside near where she spanked him. "You need to be taught a lesson. Or you'll keep strutting around here like the rules don't apply to you."

"Yes, ma'am," he gasped as her fingers slid through the slick mess before easing from his balls right up to his asshole. He was already bucking back against her fingers as she teased him, and he'd never been more aware of the fact that he'd never had anything inside him before.

He looked back at her over his shoulder, his blue jacket all bunched up on his body along with his shirt and tie. When she met his eyes, she smirked and said, "Relax, Lieutenant. Be a good boy. It will all be over soon."

The words Sam Adams were right there on his tongue, and he was ready to shout them out, but he found himself relaxing at her touch as she eased her fingertip along while she whispered, "Just be a good boy."

He grunted at the stretch, because it felt incredible. "Admiral Reed," he whined as she inserted her finger deeper. God, he'd wanted this in the worst way, and it felt so fucking good. Her other hand rubbed circles along his lower back, and when he pressed his hips back for more of her finger, she started to withdraw it instead.

"You want more," she whispered, a statement rather than a question. She could tell he did, but he nodded against the bedding and told her yes. Then her finger was back, slipping inside him as he took fistfuls of the blankets. This was different than he usually felt when they were intimate. Not better or worse, but a different kind of pleasurable. She was easily gliding along a spot inside him that left him a little short of breath, groaning her name.

After long enough that his cock was starting to ache for relief, she said, "I think you're ready for the strap, Lieutenant. And I can't wait to give it to you."

He knew she would be gentle amidst the roleplay, and she was. Jake could feel her coating him up with more lube before she leaned down and kissed his back through his uniform. Then she eased the blunt silicone head to his hole and swirled it around while he did his best to try to relax. Jessica's other hand wrapped around to his cock which was devastatingly hard, and she started to slowly jerk him off again while she pushed.

If the stretch from her finger felt good, the stretch from the strap felt both incredible and also alarming. He was gasping, knuckles white as he clutched the bedding. Jessica pushed deeper and deeper, still stroking her hand along his cock as she filled his ass completely. Her hips were resting against him as he moaned and whined loudly.

He squeezed his eyes closed, sucking in air as she paused, fully seated. "How does that feel, Lieutenant Seresin?" she asked, voice breathy as she kissed along his back again.

Jake tried to find the words to describe the juxtaposition of pleasure mixed with slight pain along with the thrumming desire for more. More of Jessica's voice, more movement, and more pressure. "I like it," he managed, and that was all she needed to hear.

Inch by beautiful inch, she withdrew until that blunt tip was the only thing inside him, and Jake moaned loudly as she thrusted into him faster this time while his body grabbed at the length. "Oh god," he whined when he was full again. "Feels amazing."

She slid her slick hand along his cock and whispered, "You're my good boy," while she fucked him. "You're doing great." She rolled her hips, fucking him with rapid, shallow thrusts while he grunted her name and balled the bedding up tighter. She stroked his length slower as her hips went faster, and Jake's hands shook with anticipation.

"Baby," he moaned as her hips pressed against his ass, holding herself in place as she filled him completely.

"Admiral Reed," she corrected, letting her hand drift slowly back down his shaft so she was squeezing his balls. She rolled her hips back and snapped them forward in one fluid motion, and Jake buried his face in the bedding as he cried out.

"Admiral Reed! I'm close! I'm so close!"

Without slowing her tempo, Jessica grabbed him by his hips, and Jake's cock pressed against the bed. She was rubbing him in all the right places, keeping him full with thrust after thrust, and his cock was throbbing in need.

"Come, Lieutenant. You earned it," she promised, grabbing at his hips and waist and grunting as she finished him off with all of her remaining strength. Just a few more thrusts as she found every spot inside of him that needed relief, and he was coming all over the bed.

"Fuck!" he growled, lifting his upper body slightly to chase that perfect pressure, and he watched his cum shoot across the bedding as Jessica rubbed his electrified skin. Jake collapsed back down onto his own mess, the sticky warmth on his hands and cheek as he whined and whimpered.

He felt Jessica remove the strap one inch at a time until she was free of his body, and she hugged him from behind, kissing at his shoulder. "I love you, Jake. I love you so much," she crooned breathlessly, and he at least had the wherewithal to realize she might need some relief now as well. But he couldn't stand up yet. Not when she was whispering the sweetest things in his ear while his legs shook.

When he lifted his head, she kissed his cheek while he tried to formulate words. Then she moaned and licked the cum from his face. Nothing had changed. She was still his in the same way she had been, and if anything, he loved her more for what she just did with him.

"Jessica," he whispered, kissing her lips, finally. She tasted like him. She tasted perfect. Then he stood, and she was smiling up at him, wearing that pretty strap. And Jake knew. He fucking knew damn well that it was time to ask her.

"Where are you going?" she asked when he reached for his pants, pulling them up high enough so he could walk.

He rushed out to the kitchen and opened the cabinet that contained all of the spices and seasonings. She was still apprehensive about cooking on her own, and this was the last place she would have looked for anything. He grabbed the small box and popped it open as he ran back into the bedroom as quickly as he could. Jessica had removed the strap and set it on the bed, leaving her in that sinful looking navy blue set. She adjusted her glasses just before her gaze fell to his hand, and then he dropped to his knee in front of her.

"Jake?" she gasped as her eyes went wide.

"Marry me. Please, Baby. Marry me. You're a need. A necessity. But you're also somehow the only thing I want. I was going to propose in Cabo, but I can't even wait until tomorrow. Will you marry me?"

Her pretty face crumpled as she sobbed, but she was nodding and reaching for him. Her voice shook as she smiled through her tears. "Yes. I'll marry you. You're my needs and wants, too."

Jake stood and scooped her up as he laughed. She ended up beneath him on the bed next to his cum, kissing him and running her fingers through his hair while he tried to get her to hold her hand still. "Let me put it on you, Smart Girl," he whispered, unable to stop smiling as he took her left hand and slipped the ring into place. He loved the way it looked. And then, as if the massive diamond didn't matter much to her in comparison to him, she had her hands back in his hair. And he kind of loved that, too.

"I can't wait to tell everyone how we got engaged," she said as she laughed and buried her face against his neck.

"You can tell them anything you want, Jess. Just make sure you pack that strap for Cabo along with the rest of the toys."

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

Thank you so much for coming on this little journey with me! It was really fun to fit Jake and Jessica into the Beer Boy and Sugar universe, and I hope you'll stick around to read about Bob and Anna soon, too! IYKYK...if you follow along with Beer Boy and Sugar, you already knew about Jake and Jessica's upcoming nuptials. More surprises are in store in every corner of this universe soon! Big thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @sylviebell for all your help!

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ailoda · 4 months ago

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updated: 01.02.25

ᯓ ✈︎ series

D-Day (❤❅✘): after finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child. (@trickphotography2)

Line of Sight (❤❅): you may just have to address your assumption that Jake Seresin doesn’t care for you at all, because surely a man who disliked you wouldn’t go out of his way to have your back when you need him the most? (@honkytonk-hangman)

Fuck: The Universe (❤❅✘): you're a Kazinsky -- Tom "Iceman" Kazinsky's youngest daughter -- and you've taken after your father to become a Naval aviator. You finished at the top of your class at Top Gun and have worked diligently and fruitlessly to get where you are now: North Island. You don the call-sign Wisteria not only because the beauty of the flower but because of its lethal qualities. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is the bane of your existence and he returns those feelings towards you tenfold. Jake thinks that you've gotten everything handed to you and has no trouble telling everyone that. When things finally boil over one day (in a shower cubicle on base of all places), you find unlikely companionship in Jake. Who knew lemon-lime Gatorade and Plan B would be the start to your love story. Or enemies to fuck buddies to friends to lovers. Whichever you prefer! (@roosterbruiser)

Left At The Altar (❤❅✘): when you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

What is L-O-V-E? (❤❅✘): Lena Bradshaw (formerly Seresin) struggles once again to keep the peace between her ex-husband Jake and her older brother Bradley for her son's sake. And the uranium facility mission only seems to heighten the stakes of it all. (@tip-top-cloud-surfer)

Spring Fling (❤✘): you should have known the ‘no refunds’ detail on the website for Spring Fling was a red flag. But you paid no mind to it, eager to be assigned a quick fuck for spring break. When the man that walks through your cabin door is none other than Jake 'Hangman' Seresin, your wildly infuriating fellow pilot, you have two choices: bicker the entire time and have a miserable spring break, or fuck. (@ddejavvu)

Oh, Baby (❤❅✘): you might not have been his girlfriend, but when you left town one night a month after sleeping together, it completely broke Jake’s heart. Now, a year later, you’ve returned and you’re not alone. You have a new little companion that just so happens to bear a startling resemblance to Jake. (@seresinhangmanjake)

Bad Habit (❤❅✘): the moment you meet hangman, you know you hate him. and then suddenly, you’re not so sure anymore. (@seasonsbloom)

new! Sign of the Times (❤❅✘): you're destined to die in Jake Seresin's arms. In every life, in every iteration, it's inescapable. Whether you loathe, or love each other, each ending stays the same. But what if it doesn't have to? (@se7entyrell)

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rootedinrevisions · 7 months ago

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Rooster's Shadow

SUMMARY: When Carly Bradshaw, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw’s younger sister, starts college near her brother’s TOP GUN base, she’s excited for a fresh start. A surprise night out with Rooster introduces her to Jake Seresin, the charming and cocky Navy pilot known as Hangman. As Jake’s attention shifts to Carly, their undeniable chemistry leads to a series of flirtatious encounters that challenge Carly’s feelings and Rooster’s protective instincts.

WORD COUNT: 5.4k(I may have got a little carried away with this one.)

Warnings: Alcohol Use.

PART 2: HERE

You stood at the curb outside your apartment building, shielding your eyes from the setting sun as you waited. It was one of those warm San Diego evenings, the kind where the heat clung to your skin but the ocean breeze kept things from becoming unbearable. You’d only been at San Diego State for a few weeks, but it already felt like home.

Soon enough, you heard the familiar rumble of an engine and looked up just in time to see your brother’s old Ford truck rounding the corner. The paint was faded, and the engine made a sound like it had seen better days, but to you, it was as much a part of your childhood as the Bradshaw name itself.

Bradley pulled up to the curb, one arm hanging casually out the window. His aviators reflected the buildings across the street as he leaned over to smile at you. “Hey, Carls.”

“Hey, Brad.” You grinned, throwing your backpack into the bed of the truck before hopping into the passenger seat. The familiar scent of sun-warmed leather and your brother’s cologne hit you instantly, bringing you back to summer road trips and late-night talks. He had on his usual–a white tank top under an open Hawaiian shirt, and jeans worn soft from too many flights and not enough time at home.

“Ready to be my wingman tonight?” he asked with a teasing glint in his eye as he shifted the truck into drive and pulled away from the curb.

You smirked, buckling your seatbelt. “As long as you don’t embarrass me, Lieutenant.”

He chuckled, rolling down the windows as the wind whipped through the cab. “No promises.”

The drive from your apartment just off campus to the bar was short, but it gave you and Bradley time to catch up. The conversation was light but familiar–family updates, your classes, his work. You could tell he was happy to have you so close by, though he’d never say it outright. His protective streak had always run deep, and being stationed just fifteen minutes from your dorm gave him more opportunities to check-in.

“So, how are the classes?” he asked, glancing over as the truck rumbled down the highway. “Making any friends yet?”

You shrugged. “A few. It’s only been a few weeks, so…I’m still getting used to it. A lot different from the online classes I’ve done the past three years, though.”

He nodded, his hand tapping the steering wheel. “You let me know if anyone gives you a hard time. I’ll come scare ‘em off.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “What are you gonna do, march onto campus in your uniform?”

“If I have to,” he joked before his tone softened a bit. “But seriously, Carls, I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

You glanced at him, warmth spreading through your chest. “Missed you too, Brad.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two as the truck neared the bar. The lights of the base flickered in the distance, and you knew that while tonight was just for fun, something bigger was looming for your brother.

By the time you and Rooster walked into the bar, the place was starting to fill up. The music was loud, and the chatter of off-duty officers filled the air. You followed your brother through the crowd, the scent of beer and cheap cologne mixing with the ocean breeze still lingering in the air from outside.

Bradley’s eyes scanned the room, and you noticed the way his expression softened when he spotted a few familiar faces near the back. Before you could ask who they were, a voice called out, sharp and playful.

“Bradshaw!”

Your brother turned toward the sound, a smile already forming on his lips. A woman in a tan uniform, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, was leaning over a pool table, cue stick in hand. Her gaze flicked from your brother to you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“This is how I find out you’re stateside?” she asked, her voice teasing but with an edge.

Bradley gave a sheepish grin, pulling off his aviators. “Yeah, I just thought I’d surprise you.”

Phoenix let out a small chuckle before bending over to take her shot. As she lined it up and brought her elbow back the end of the cue stick rammed into your brother’s lower abdomen, making him grunt and hunch over.

She glanced at him with a smirk, “I guess I surprised you back.”

Bradley straightened, rubbing his stomach as he chuckled. “It’s good to see you too.”

Phoenix gave him a grin and turned to you. “Who’s this?”

Your brother placed a hand on your shoulder. “Phoenix, this is my sister, Carly.”

Her handshake was firm, and the look she gave you was one of genuine curiosity. “Nice to meet you, Carly. You ever been to a place like this before?”

You shook your head with a smile. “Not exactly.”

Just then, another airman strode into view, catching your eye immediately. He wore the same tan uniform as many of the other in the bar, but the way he carried himself was different–more confident, almost too sure of himself. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back, and his hazel-green eyes were sharp, and calculating. But what really caught your attention was the smirk playing on his lips, like he was always on the verge of saying something cocky.

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe,” he said, his voice dripping with that trademark arrogance.

Your brother’s expression tightened as he muttered, “Hangman. You look…good.” Hangman’s smirk widened.

The tension between them was almost tangible as Hangman sauntered up to the pool table, taking a cue stick from Bob, another airman you’d just met. Hangman leaned over to take his shot, and his gaze flicked toward your brother.

“Well, I am good, Rooster,” he said, his eyes gleaming as he sank a ball into the corner pocket with an impressive shot. He stood up, flashing that smile at you now. “In fact, I’m very good. Too good to be true.”

You rolled your eyes, resisting the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach. Sure, he was attractive–annoyingly so–but his cockiness was more than enough to keep you grounded.

Just as you were about to fire back a remark, another airman interrupted, asking something about the special detachment they had all been called in for. Hangman shrugged, eyes still on your brother. “A mission’s a mission. What I want to know is who’s gonna be team leader.”

Bradley scoffed. “Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave.”

The crowd around the pool table erupted in playful jeers, but Hangman didn’t flinch. He just strolled over to your brother, a confident swagger in his step. “Rooster, aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend? Where are your manners?”

Your brother’s eyes narrowed, as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Hangman, this is my sister, Carly.”

Hangman’s smirk turned downright devilish as he extended his hand to you. “Carly,” he repeated, his voice softer now, more personal. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure.”

You rolled your eyes again, but the warmth of his touch lingered longer than you wanted to admit.

“I love this song,” Hangman said, grinning as the jukebox blared louder. He turned away, strutting back toward the pool table like he owned the place.

Phoenix sidled up to you and Bradley, watching Hangman with a smirk of her own. “Well, he hasn’t changed.”

Bradley let out a long breath. “Nope. Sure hasn’t.”

As the pool game wrapped up and your brother wandered off to the piano, you noticed Hangman making his way back toward you. His grin was all charm and trouble as he approached, leaning casually on the edge of the table, his eyes scanning your face.

“So, Carly,” he drawled, his voice smooth and confident. “What’s a girl like you drinking tonight? Let me guess, something sweet? Or maybe you’ve got a stronger taste?”

You rolled your eyes, already anticipating where this was going. “I can handle my drinks just fine, thanks.”

“Now that I don’t doubt,” he said with a wink, standing up straight and gesturing toward the bar. “How about I get you something? On me.”

Before you could even consider your response, Bradley appeared, sliding smoothly between the two of you. His broad frame blocked Hangman’s view as he handed you a cold bottle of beer, his expression neutral but his intent clear.

“She’s already taken care of,” Bradley said, his tone casual but firm.

Hangman’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider, like he relished the challenge. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Well, I see big brother’s got it all under control,” he teased, glancing between you and Rooster. “But if you change your mind, Carly, you know where to find me.”

Your brother didn’t bother with a reply, but you couldn’t help but notice the way Hangman’s gaze lingered on you just a little longer before he turned and strolled back toward the pool table, a mischievous glint still in his eyes.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, his eyes scanning the crowd for a moment before he turned to you. “You alright?”

You nodded, trying to suppress a smile. “You know, I can handle him, right?”

Bradley huffed softly, his lips quirking into a half-smile. “Oh, I know. But he’s Hangman. He’s a whole different level of annoying.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, taking a sip of your beer and glancing back at Hangman, who was already chatting up someone else, though his gaze flicked in your direction now and then. Something told you this wasn’t the last time he’d try.

The night had settled into a comfortable rhythm. You were sipping a drink and chatting with Phoenix while Rooster hovered nearby, keeping a watchful eye on you. Despite his relaxed exterior, you could tell he was in full “protective brother” mode. Every time a guy so much as glanced your way, he subtly moved closer.

You were about to tease him when you felt a presence behind you. Turning around, you found Hangman standing there, that familiar cocky grin plastered across his face.

“Enjoying yourself, Carly?” he asked, leaning casually against the bar, his hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.

“More than you’d think,” you replied, keeping your tone light but guarded. Something about Hangman’s smug confidence set you on edge, though you couldn’t deny the way your heart skipped when he was around.

He twirled the pool cue in his hand before setting it aside. “How about you let me show you a good time on the dance floor?”

Before you could answer, your brother’s voice cut in from behind you. “She’s fine where she is, Hangman.”

Bradley stepped up next to you, folding his arms across his chest as he fixed Hangman with a pointed stare. The tension between them was palpable–old rivalries and new challenges seemed to swirl in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Hangman’s grin only widened. “Easy there, Bradshaw. Just offering to be a gentleman.”

He straightened up and without missing a beat, grabbed a couple of the darts off the wall. “Tell you what, Rooster. Let’s settle this like men. A friendly game of darts–nothing too serious.” His eyes slid over to you for a second, then back to your brother. “Winner gets a dance with Carly.”

The challenge hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it thick between them. Bradley’s jaw clenched, and you could feel the tension rolling off him.

“I’m not letting you use my sister as a prize in your stupid games, Hangman,” Bradley shot back.

Hangman raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, it’s just for fun. Think of it as a little competition between friends.” His smirk never wavered. “Unless, of course, you’re afraid of losing.”

That did it.

Bradley’s eyes narrowed, and before you knew it, he was reaching for the darts in Hangman’s hand. “Fine. But when I win, you’re gonna drop this whole act and leave her alone.”

Hangman laughed, his voice low and smug. “You’re on, Bradshaw.”

The two of them moved to the dartboard, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. The crowd formed around them, cheers and laughter erupting as the stakes were set. You could feel the pit of anxiety in your stomach, torn between not wanting to be a part of this thing and being slightly curious about how it would all play out.

The game was fast-paced, with both men throwing with precision and confidence. Hangman’s throws were smooth and casual–he made it look effortless. Bradley, on the other hand, was more calculated, taking his time with each throw. The score stayed close, and by the time they reached the final round, it was almost neck and neck.

You could see the concentration on Bradley’s face as he took his last shot, hitting just off-center. Hangman smirked, stepping up for his final throw. With a flick of his wrist, the dart flew through the air, hitting dead center, giving him the two-point win.

The room erupted in cheers as Hangman turned to face Bradley, his grin smug and victorious. “Guess that means I get the dance.”

Bradley’s jaw clenched, and you could see the muscles in his neck tighten. He gave you a look–one that told you exactly how he felt about this. But you also knew there was no backing out now.

Hangman stepped over to you, offering his hand with an exaggerated bow. “Shall we, Carly?”

You hesitated for a split second before placing your hand in his. The crowd parted as he led you to the small dance floor near the jukebox, the music shifting to a slow, steady rhythm.

Hangman wasted no time, pulling you close as his hand rested lightly on your waist, his other hand intertwining with yours. His touch was firm and confident, and the way he moved made it clear he knew exactly how to command a dance floor.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as he twirled you out and then back in, using the movement to subtly draw you closer. His body was solid against yours, and though you could feel Rooster’s eyes burning into your back from across the room, a small part of you couldn’t deny the strange excitement building inside you.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out quieter than you intended.

He chuckled, low and deep. “I can’t help it. There’s something about you, Carly Bradshaw. You know how to make a guy work for it.”

Before you could respond, he twirled you again, the spin making your heart race. This time when he pulled you back, his hand stayed on your waist, fingers pressing just a little harder. “You know,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “your brother’s not gonna be able to keep me away from you forever.”

Your breath hitched, and you felt a mix of heat and frustration rise in your chest. You wanted to say something snarky, something that would put him back in his place, but the way his voice dropped to that smooth, confident tone made your thoughts scatter.

Hangman leaned in closer, his lips just inches from your neck. “Tell me, Carly, are you having fun yet?”

Before you could answer, your brother’s voice cut through the haze of the moment.

“That’s enough.”

Bradley stepped forward, his expression hard as he glared at Hangman. He reached for your hand, pulling you back toward the group.

Hangman released you, but not before giving you one last smirk. “Thanks for the dance, sweetheart.”

Rooster led you back to the bar, his hand still wrapped protectively around your wrist. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the tension rolling off him in waves. Your head was spinning, caught between your brother’s overprotectiveness and the undeniable pull you’d felt toward Hangman during that dance.

You glanced back at the dance floor where Hangman stood, hands on his hips, that same infuriatingly cocky grin still playing on his lips. For the first time tonight, you found yourself wondering if there might be more to him than just the arrogance.

The bar had started to quiet down. The crowd thinned as people drifted toward the exits, some stumbling out in groups, others pairing off into couples. Your brother, now a little less tense after the confrontation with Hangman–or maybe just because of the beer and the brunette he was laughing with–had finally loosened his protective grip on you. For the first time tonight, you felt like you could breathe.

Needing some space, you slipped away from the crowd and stepped outside onto the bar’s patio. The night air was crisp, a welcome contrast to the warmth and noise inside. You inhaled deeply, letting the cool breeze calm your nerves. It felt good to be alone for a moment, without anyone watching over your shoulder.

You leaned against the railing, looking out at the lights in the distance, your mind wandering. You hadn’t expected the night to take so many twists, especially not with Hangman–and that dance. A small part of you was still processing what had just happened.

The creak of the door behind you caught your attention, and you turned to see Hangman stepping out onto the patio. His usual swagger seemed dialed back, the cocky grin replaced by something more subdued.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, his voice quieter than before as he walked over and stood beside you. “Just needed some fresh air.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting him to launch into another flirty remark, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned against the railing next to you, his eyes scanning the view ahead, not pushing for your attention like he usually did.

“You’re not interrupting,” you replied, surprised at how different he seemed out here, away from the bar and your brother’s watchful eye.

There was a beat of silence before he spoke again. “You’re not what I expected.”

You glanced at him, curiosity piqued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t the usual cocky smirk. This time, it was softer, almost thoughtful. “I figured Rooster’s little sister would be a lot like him–, cocky, chip on your shoulder. But you…you’re different. Quieter. More thoughtful.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet, letting him continue.

“I guess I’m just intrigued,” he said, his eyes now on you, serious for once. “You’re not like the girls I’m used to.”

You scoffed lightly, shaking your head. “I’m sure you say that to every girl you meet.”

He chuckled softly but shook his head. “Not this time.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you pause. You turned to face him fully, searching his expression for any hint of the arrogance you were used to. But it wasn’t there. Instead, he looked almost…genuine.

“Jake,” he said after a moment, holding out his hand. “My name’s Jake Seresin.”

You hesitated for just a second before placing your hand in his. “Carly.”

“I know,” he replied, his grin returning, but it was more playful than smug this time. “But I figured it was time we met properly.”

For a moment, you forgot about the dance, the challenge, the tension from earlier. Out here, in the quiet of the night, Jake felt different–less of the cocky, overconfident pilot, and more like just a guy who was trying to figure you out.

“So, is this the real you?” you asked, crossing your arms as you studied him. “The guy behind the callsign?”

He shrugged, his gaze thoughtful. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just easier to drop the act when your brother’s not around to kill me.”

You laughed despite yourself, the tension in your chest easing a little more. “Bradley’s not that bad.”

“Right,” Jake said, smirking again. “Tell that to the look he gave me earlier.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the distant hum of the bar fading into the background. It was strange–how different things felt out here compared to inside. No loud music, no crowd, no watchful brother. Just you and Jake, standing side by side, and for the first time tonight, you weren’t entirely sure what to think of him.

“Thanks for the dance, by the way,” Jake said after a while, his voice softer again. “Even if your brother was ready to drag me off the floor.”

You smirked. “You’re lucky he didn't.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “but it was worth it.”

There it was again–that strange shift in him, the one that made you wonder if there was more to Jake Seresin than just the swagger and the teasing. You found yourself wanting to know more, to see if this version of him, the quieter one, was the real deal.

As the minutes wore on, the cool breeze continued to swirl around you both, and the noise from inside seemed to grow more distant. Jake’s presence beside you was no longer overwhelming, no longer something you had to guard against. For the first time since you’d met him, you started to let your guard down just a little, wondering what might happen next.

The night air had cooled you off enough to shake off some of the tension, but the moment you stepped back into the bar, you were greeted by the buzz of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the steady beat of the music. It wasn’t as crowded as before, but there were still enough people milling around that it took you a second to spot your brother.

Bradley was leaning against the bar, and the brunette from earlier was practically draped over his arm, laughing at something he’d said. He caught sight of you before you could make your way over, a knowing smirk already creeping onto his face.

“You alright, Carly?” he asked, the teasing tone in his voice impossible to miss. He shot a glance at the brunette, who hadn’t even noticed you’d walked up. “Looks like you got some fresh air.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, I’m good. You look like you’re about to call it a night, though.”

Bradley laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Depends on what you mean by ‘call it a night.’” He gave the brunette a playful nudge, which she returned with an exaggerated giggle. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“So I’m guessing you’re okay catching an Uber back to your place?” he asked, clearly banking on your answer so he could make his next move.

You waved him off. “Go. I’m a big girl, Bradley. I’ll be fine.”

He raised an eyebrow, giving you a once-over that told you he wasn’t totally convinced. His eyes scanned the room, almost as if trying to figure out if Hangman was still around. But the brunette tugged on his arm again, and his attention wavered.

“You sure?” He hesitated, but you could tell his focus was already drifting.

“I’m sure,” you reassured him. “Go have fun.”

Bradley flashed you a grateful smile, and with a quick, brotherly squeeze on your shoulder, he turned back to his date. You watched him leave, the brunette still glued to his side, before turning back toward the bar.

And that’s when you saw him. Jake–no, Hangman–was leaning casually against one of the high-top tables, the cocky grin firmly back in place. Gone was the serious, thoughtful version of him from outside. Now, the cocky swagger was back, all confidence and charm as he zeroed in on you, his eyes glinting with the same challenge from before.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawled, sauntering over to you, the grin never leaving his face. “Didn’t think he’d ever leave.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you met his gaze. “Surprised you’re still here. Thought you’d be off chasing another challenge by now.”

He chuckled, stepping closer. “Oh, I’m not done with this one yet.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. “You think you’ve got me figured out, don’t you?”

His smile widened, and he leaned in just enough for you to catch the hint of his cologne. “I know enough.”

There it was–the cocky, overconfident Hangman, back in full force. But this time, you weren’t about to make things easy for him. If he was going to make a pass, he’d have to work for it.

“Do you?” you asked, your voice teasing as you took a step back, letting him chase just a little. “Because I’m not as easy as you might think.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “I never said you were easy. Just a challenge I’m more than willing to take on.”

You smirked, playing along. “You’re gonna have to do better than that, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he said smoothly, his voice dropping just a bit, his eyes never leaving yours. “You just tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you there.”

His confidence was palpable, but you weren’t about to let him get the upper hand so quickly. Not tonight.

“Where I want to go, huh?” you mused, your fingers brushing against the edge of the bar as you leaned casually against it. “And what makes you think I’m going anywhere with you?”

He stepped closer, closing the distance, his gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes. “Because you want to,” he said, his voice low and sure.

And damn, he was right. You could feel the heat rising between you, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. There was no point in denying it–you did want to go home with him. But if he was going to play this game, you were going to make him earn it.

“Maybe I do,” you said, your voice softer, just enough to keep him guessing. “But I’m not just going to hand it to you, Hangman.”

His grin widened at the challenge, his eyes glinting with excitement. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You could feel the pulse of the bar fading into the background as the two of you locked into this game. Jake’s presence was intoxicating, and the way he looked at you–like he knew exactly what he was doing–was enough to make your pulse quicken. But if he was going to get what he wanted, he was going to have to prove it.

He reached out, his fingers grazing yours in a way that made your breath catch. “So, what do you say? One more round of drinks? Or are we skipping straight to the good part?”

You smiled, tilting your head as you studied him. “I’ll take you up on that drink,” you said, your voice low and teasing. “But after that? You’ll just have to wait and see.”

His eyes darkened with intrigue, and for the first time, you felt like you had the upper hand. Jake may have been used to getting what he wanted, but tonight? Tonight, he was going to have to play by your rules.

The next song that filtered through the bar was slower, and sultry in its rhythm. You felt Jake’s hand on the small of your back before you could fully turn away, guiding you once more to the center of the room. But this time, the energy between you had shifted. Gone were the playful twirls from your last dance, replaced by something much more intimate.

He didn’t give you a chance to object–not that you were planning to. His chest pressed firmly against your back as his hands slid down your arms before coming to rest on your hips, directing your movement with the sway of the music. The air between you was thick with tension, his breath hot against your ear, close enough that you could feel the ghost of his lips hovering above your neck.

You found yourself leaning into him, letting the warmth of his body seep through the thin fabric of your tank top. You could feel every muscle in his torso, taut and solid against you, as his fingers gripped your hips just tight enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“You’re trouble, aren’t you?” he whispered low into your ear, his voice sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.

Your lips curled into a teasing smile. “I think you’re the one looking for trouble.”

Jake chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. His hands tightened their grip for just a moment, grounding you in the moment, and making your pulse quicken. Your inhibitions, dulled by the alcohol and the charged atmosphere, slipped away as your hand slid up into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dirty blonde strands.

He let out a breath, his head tilting slightly into your touch, his body responding to your every move. The tension between you two was undeniable now, the room shrinking until all you could feel was him.

As the song played on, your confidence only grew. You pressed back against him, feeling the firmness of his body as he guided your movements, your hips rolling in sync with his.

His lips brushed the shell of your ear, so close that you could almost feel the words he whispered. “Careful, Carly,” he murmured, the warning laced with just enough desire to make your skin flush. “I might not be able to hold back much longer.”

The intensity of his voice sent a surge of heat through you, but you weren’t about to let him off that easy. You glanced over your shoulder, catching the way his eyes darkened as they met yours. “Who said I want you to?”

The words hung in the air between you, daring him to take things a step further.

Jake’s eyes darkened further as your words hung in the air, an in a heartbeat, he’d made his decision. With a low growl of approval, he slid his hands from your hips and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” he murmured, already tugging you toward the bar counter where Penny stood, casting the two of you a knowing look. Jake’s free hand reached for his wallet, pulling out a card to quickly close his tab. You noticed the way his thumb lightly brushed against your wrist, a subtle but constant reminder of the tension simmering between you.

Penny smirked as she handed him his receipt. “Take care of her, Hangman.”

Jake let out a breathless chuckle, his gaze flicking toward you as if to say, I plan on it. With one last look at Penny, he nodded. “Oh, I will.”

As soon as his tab was settled, Jake wasted no time guiding you out to the bar. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands resting on the hard lines of his abdomen, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the heated atmosphere you’d just left, but it did nothing to calm the way your heart was racing. You found yourself nuzzling into the side of his neck, inhaling the faint scent of cologne, the mix of leather and woodsy undertones clinging to his skin. Without hesitation, you placed a soft kiss along his Adam’s apple.

Jake tensed beneath your touch, his breath hitching as you kissed along his throat, feeling the way his pulse quickened against your lips. He let out a deep, throaty laugh, the sound vibrating against your mouth.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin,” he said in a husky voice, his arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you close as he led you toward his truck parked just outside.

But instead of stopping, you continued trailing kisses along his neck, your lips teasing the sensitive skin there. His hands tightened around you, his breath shallow as he opened the passenger door to his truck.

“Get in, Carly,” he said, his voice low and filled with promise.

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