#Maverick x male reader

[decadentworld]

“P.S.: Wanna see my new shoes??”, says the ending of Maverick’s postcard letter to you.

“Sure,” says, among other things, the ending of your answering one some days later.

In Maverick’s next letter there’s a polaroid picture attached.

Bottom Maverick x Top Male Reader fanart & ficlet, full version on AO3 (Only available to AO3 users). Work available only under ArchiveOfOurOwn (DecadentWorld and Grapes in velvet). Do not repost, edit, or redistribute. Do not use for TikTok or YouTube videos. DO NOT FEED TO AI

[k9effect]

very very humbly on my hands and knees for jake x male reader stuff… like anything to do with cuddles because a guy is touch starved and i cannot stop thinking about how good of hugs jake would give🙏🙏🙏🙏

Hi yes I have been thinking about this since I got the ask <3 he'd be the best, I just know he's a sweetheart deep down

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Shuddering out an angry breath through gritted teeth, you stormed into Jake's off-base apartment, not even bothering to pull your boots off or get changed before you fell face first into his bed. Jake had been sitting at his desk, filling out some leftover paperwork with headphones, somehow hearing the door slam shut through the acoustic rhythm of the country music playing in his ears. He knew you'd be the only person storming in here like you owned the place. You were over often enough that you practically lived here anyway. He spun around slowly in his chair to face you. You just knew he had that awfully fond look on his face, but it did nothing to quench the rage bubbling up inside you.

“Y’alright there, mister?” There was humour in Jake's voice and you ignored the way it made the butterflies writhe in your gut.

“No.” You grumbled into his pillow, breathing in his scent that was still clinging to the sheets.

“What happened?” Jake asked, you heard movement, then felt the bed dip as he sat down next to you.

“Don't wanna talk ‘bout it.” You pulled your arms up to cross them over above your head, hiding from further the world.

Then Jake's warm hand was on your middle back, smoothing down your flight suit in a painfully tender way. He ran his thumb down the center of your back, tracing the bumps in your spine through the fabric of your flight suit.

“Admirals are assholes…” you finally grumbled.

“Oh, believe me, I know. What did Admiral Dickhead do this time?” His hand moved up your back to the base of your neck, his fingernails scraping pleasantly up your scalp through your cropped hair.

You made yourself take three long, deep, measured breaths.

You rolled over onto your side, Jake's hand moved with you until he was gently cupping your cheek, palm brushing at the five o'clock shadow you needed to shave.

“Reprimanded me for somethin' that wasn't even my fault. Wouldn't hear me out about it and threatened to make it a permanent mark on my record if I kept ‘talking back’. Insubordination or something…”

“Yeah… that tracks unfortunately. He's a jerk.” Jake's hand smoothed down your neck and over your chest, finding purchase on your hip. “But you're home now. Day's over. You can try to relax a bit.”

There was something about Jake calling his place ‘home’ that struck something inside you. This… thing, between you and Jake was still relatively new. Unlabelled and fragile, you didn't want to risk losing him but coming on too fast, yet here he was, saying you were home.

You rolled onto your back as Jake shifted, lifting himself up to straddle you. His hands held onto you just above your hips on your waist. He smiled down at you, that cocky smirk you desperately wanted to kiss off of his face. You almost hesitantly let your hands come to rest on his hairy thighs, his sleep shorts riding up slightly, your hands on his skin.

“Weren't you doin’ paperwork?” You scoffed.

“I was, but then something much more interesting stormed through my door. Figured I'd rather give him my full attention for a while.” Jake grinned, but then it became something much more sincere, much more gentle, “Especially since he seems to be hurtin’ a bit.”

“I promise I'm fine. Just got pissed off a little. It happens.” You waved him off, but held tighter to his thighs, thumbs massaging the muscle.

Jake lowered himself, looping his arms around your neck and pressing his chest to yours until he was completely flush on top of you. His breath was hot against the side of your neck. He pressed his forehead against your temple. You ran a hand up his back and held onto the nape of his neck, keeping him there.

You just breathed for a while.

With a small sound to alert you gently, Jake pushed himself up.

“Shoe's off, soldier, I think we deserve a nap.” Jake pushed your hair back, just watching you for a moment as you blinked up at him, suddenly feeling quite sleepy.

Jake helped you peel your boots off, freeing your aching feet from the confines of your woolen socks. He watched as you opted to strip your flight suit off, staying in just your dark t-shirt and boxers before crawling back into his bed.

He pulled you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. His fingers danced soothingly in your hair and under your shirt, fingernails tracing nonsense into your back.

“Thank you, Jake…” you breathed out into him, breathing in to inhale his fresh scent.

“No problem, baby. I've gotchu.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him closer, tangling your legs with his.

Despite the tumultuous rage you had felt entering the room, you now felt safe and calm and happy. Jake had a funny habit of making you feel like that. You pushed your hands up under his shirt and enjoyed the feeling of his warm sun kissed skin under your palms as you let the exhaustion and drowsiness from the day finally weigh down on you.

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

I don't do x reader stuff as often as I used to and I kinda missed it (and there's never enough male!reader content for us mlm guys) so send me some dagger/male!reader (or transmale!reader) prompts and I might drabble for it if it speaks to me <3 reblogs highly appreciated <3

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟐

summary : Jake cannot stop thinking about him. Jake cannot stop thinking about the first time he saw him. Jake cannot stop hating himself for what he is doing.

pairing : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

word count : 2.5k

contains : allusions to sex, emotional distress, religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts and yeah, basically the same warnings from part 1 haha.

a/n : Gif by @tay-swifts. Okay so rn for me it's 2:45 am so please ignore any incoherence or mistakes or if it's not as good as part 1. I hope yall don't hate me for not posting in so long, this is my attempt to go back into writing :)

“Seventy-nine. Down. Eighty. Down. Eighty-one. Down-” Maverick’s voice resonated inside the squad’s ear canal as he counted the number of push-ups they had done so far. This time they only had to do 100, but the heat and tiredness from all those previous hours spent in the air made the seemingly easy exercise a hellish torture. The concrete floor splattered with sweat drops falling from their foreheads was burning hot and their hands were begging to cease contact with the ground. All those physical stimuli did not possess enough power to distract Hangman from the million thoughts that flooded his mind ; the characteristic dullness of the exercise had sent him into a tortuous crisis full of some memories he didn’t want to relive and some others he wanted to relive so desperately that the realization that it was in fact impossible hurt him more than any wound acquired in the battlefield. 

After pushing his body back up from push-up number 92, he closed his eyes for a second and that was enough for a film-like reminiscence to start playing inside his head.

Speed. 100. 110. 120. 150. The tight grip to the steering wheel. Quick shallow breaths. Accelerated palpitations. Those were just some of the symptoms that showed his unnerved emotional state. Taking a right exit, he found himself entering the mysterious city of L.A ; coming from a Texan town, Los Angeles seemed like the capital of the unruly. Don't get him wrong, he has always been a menace himself, but big cities had always made him feel strangely small. 

He had no clue where he was going, but that's the thing about spontaneously bolting from base at 11 pm on a Friday. Hangman had no explicit motives to feel trapped within his routine; in fact, he thrived under strict organization (one of the many reasons why he decided to join the army), so what the hell was he doing? That was a question that was going to be left unanswered for now, so the next best thing was to find a distraction from the everlasting anger flooding his system.

He quickly realized that he had driven to a neighborhood full of pubs and bars decorated in colorful lights and full of people queuing to get in and have a drink or two, perhaps dance or make out too. His eyes also took in the many flags that hung from all of the buildings of the street; he recognized the gay flag but the rest, he could not tell what they represented. While staring at a pink, purple and blue one, he got blinded by a very powerful blue light, which made him stop abruptly. After it had dimmed down, he turned his head to identify where the light was coming from.

“Mon Ange” he mumbled to himself. His tired gaze revitalized at the hypnotic sight. If he had to be completely honest, he knew the reason why he fled the scene earlier that night. The truth was that he felt stuck, unable to move forward in life; something was missing but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was and the enigma was driving the pilot crazy. He was 35 and having an identity crisis, how lame was that? Looking at the people waiting to enter ‘Mon Ange’, he noticed that everyone was dressing so eccentrically, smiling so brightly and chatting so loudly; he was obviously not part of their community but, could a night in this place so out of character for him relax his mind enough to see things in a different light? He would get in, order a drink and head out, that’s it. Spending time in a place that was filled with strangers who did not have any type of expectations or preconceived ideas of him sounded nice enough to make the move.

The odor of alcohol and sweat flooded Jake’s nostrils as soon as he stepped in the club. The wide circle-shaped  room was packed to the brim but there was an upper floor with less people. The songs playing were not his style so he could not recognize the artists ; after scanning the place, he found the bartender. He got served pretty quickly and he could tell that his face card had made that happen. He did not find it in himself to order a fancy drink, so he settled for a beer. 

Looking for the bathroom, he stumbled with a semi-open door. Assuming it to be the toilet's entrance, he stepped into the dark room. He instinctively patted the wall in search of the switch, but there was not one to be found. Moans and other sounds Jake was no stranger to found their way to his ears, making him jump back and leave the room. Back in the hall, he was breathing unevenly, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

“How ya doin’, handsome? Too crowded for a pretty thing like you?” A decently buff (but not bigger than him), hairy man was leaning “seductively” towards him as he spoke. Jake felt pure disgust and indignation pooling in the lower part of his stomach ; he could see how his presence in a place with such characteristics could lead up to certain conclusions but, approaching him like that was so out of line. The stranger’s gaze made him feel like a piece of meat and he was momentarily struck with the thought of whether he had ever made a girl feel similarly.

“Fuck off, asshole. Fuck around and find out.” Jake pushed him away so he could escape the situation he found himself in. His harsh frown warned the other man to stay away unless he wanted to leave the place with a black eye. After making it out of those suffocating halls, he decided to leave ; this whole idea had been pure foolery motivated by how lost he was feeling in life.  

Searching frantically for the exit door, his eyes landed on a couple shamelessly flirting and exchanging caresses of all kinds. The sparks in their eyes seemed genuine and that made the pilot sigh in a longing manner. Jake shook his head in order to try to slow down the speeding and confusing thoughts running though his mind. Suddenly, an entrancing voice started directing its words at him. He had been so focused on the couple by the bar that he didn’t process what the handsome- handsome?- stranger was trying to tell him. It couldn’t be anything good, based on his concerned facial expressions that Jake could barely make up because of the lighting of the room.

“Sorry, what?” he mumbled while finally setting his confused and dissociated gaze on the other man.

“I’m (Y/N), I saw you walking down the hallway back there and you seemed…” he hesitated, trying to find the best adjective to describe it. “distressed. Just wanted to make sure that you were ok. You’re not from around here, are you? And if I’m correct, you’re by yourself. This place can be overwhelming when you come for the first time”

Jake could feel the way his eyes widened at the words of the man standing in front of him. (Y/N)’s smile invited him to open up, to share the deepest and darkest parts of himself; but the pilot was no fool and quickly activated his protective shields again. He began to excuse himself after clearing his throat, lowering his voice an octave unconsciously “Thank man but I just entered because I had a problem with my car and it was the only place open at this time and I need to go back to my…”

“Calm down hahaha, I am not the police, don’t have to justify yourself. As to the car thing, the manager that runs this place knows a thing or two about cars. Is the dark green one yours?” Jake nodded, dumbstruck by the casual nature of this encounter “Fabio will help you for sure. If you want I can go look for him and you’ll be on your way in no time” Another grin took possession of the younger man’s lips.

Jake’s cheeks began to change colors into a pretty obvious red. He had created a lie that he could not follow with; how was he supposed to get out of that very uncomfortable moment? Fuck, fuck, fuck “I, eh…” It was not very often that Seresin ran out of things to say; his squad wouldn’t let him hear the end of it if they were witnesses to this pathetic scene.

“Look I don’t know who you are or what you’re doing here but it’s okay, alright? We don’t know each other so I cannot snitch to anyone about you being here; not that I would if we did know each other. Here” he looked in his black bag and took out a water bottle “I sneak these all the time, they’re expensive as fuck in here” a smirk accompanied the confession, giving Jake the sensation of being his partner in crime.

He took the drink and chugged it down in an instant “Thanks for everything you’ve done for me tonight, really appreciate it. I don’t think I’ll come round here any time soon but I owe you big-time”

“How about you tell me your name?” a playful but still innocent gaze stole Jake’s breath away. Fuck, how rude had he been? He hadn’t introduced himself back in the club and this person had gotten out of their way to help him. His southern heart shrinked at such an impolite act; this was definitely not meemaw approved but at the end of the day, none of this whole night was.

“Excuse me, Jake Seresin”

“Nice to meet you, Jake Seresin” he chuckled. “Well, I guess this is where we part ways, isn’t it? And don’t worry, you don’t actually owe me anything.”

“There must be something I can do. Where I’m from, you show your gratitude to the people who’ve helped you yknow”

“Here” as if it were the most natural thing, M/N took the blonde’s hand and wrote down his number. “If you’re ever in trouble again or you just want to chat, here’s my number. And don’t worry, no second intentions or anything included, just think you’re cool and could use a friend round here” he clarified after taking a look at Jake’s conflicted face. Despite the alarm in his head stating very loudly that he had to get out of there as soon as possible, he let the other man take his hand in his for a second too long. Jake was no shy person but the questionable tension in that moment crossed a very clear line that had been established many years ago and was irremovable now. Breaking their little bubble, Jake nervously searched for his car keys as he thanked M/N and wished him a great night.

While driving away, the rear-view mirror captured M/N’s image, framing his still figure in the small reflecting surface for Jake to stare at, making him ignore the clearly red light and almost crash with a grey truck whose driver shouted every single insult under the sun at him. But the lieutenant could not care any less, his worries laid elsewhere. What the fuck had happened tonight? He found himself desperately trying to make some sense of his decision-making process-

“HANGMAN” 

Startled at the mention of his name in such a shrill manner, Jake regained control of his body and mind which had traveled to the past for quite a while, for he could not recall when they had stopped training and had gotten inside, taking turns to shower in the base’s facilities. “The day you stop annoying me, Rooster, hell will freeze over” he grumpily murmured, but with no real meanness behind his words.

“You’ve been acting very strangely, Hangman, and not in your usual weird way” Bradley narrowed his eyes as if it would allow him to access Jake's deepest thoughts that were apparently holding him hostage. After Jake had rolled his eyes and dropped some sarcastic comments about his “stupid ass moustache”, he decided he would let it slide, for now. “Anyway, you’re comin’ tonight, aren’t you?”

“Nah, gotta do some paperwork and prepare for tomorrow’s session” he discarded the offer quickly.

“C’mon don’t be such a pussy, man” another of his coworkers commented from nearby.

The way he slammed the locker’s door provoked a loud bang that made everyone turn their heads to see what was going on in that part of the locker room “Who the fuck has said that shit? I ain’t gonna let you live, motherfucker” and just like a bull ready to kill, only seeing red, he started to search for the idiot who had decided to speak and make a comment he definitely did not need to hear at the moment “don't hide now, who.was.it?”

“Hey Jake, calm down man, it was just a joke, what the hell? “Rooster questioned, absolutely puzzled at his mate’s reaction; it was just common locker room jargon, they often teased each other or said something dumb about their dicks or something like that, and Jake would often reply with a laugh or an equally offensive response so, something was definitely wrong with the normally nonchalant Hangman.

Shrugging off the hand Roosted had placed on his shoulder to ground him, Jake picked his bag and stormed off huffing and cursing under his breath. After having reached his car, his forehead was pressed against the steering wheel and his eyes were shut closed; breath for 3 seconds, hold it in for 4 seconds and exhale for 7 seconds. This was a technique he learnt when he was young to repress any anxiety or panic attack that tried to break the controlled facade he showed his family, the church, his superiors and his friends. A frustrated groan escaped Jake’s sealed lips, a clear sign of all that pent up frustration.

His phone buzzing caught his attention and decided to take a look. The three messages appearing in the lock screen where all from the only person who could make him feel okay again but also, this person was the one who had triggered this chaos  he had so carefully repressed in order to create the perfect persona; a masculine, chill guy who walked through life as if he had everything under control, when in reality he was a 36 year old full of pain and doubts that the church, his family and the army had made sure to reinforce. 

Texts from M/N:

M/N : hey, you forgot your sweatshirt at my place

M/N : are you going to Mon Ange next saturday? I can hand it to you then. Yknow, that day’s theme is cowboys and I’d kill to see you even with just a fake cowboy hat 

M/N: you can teach me how the Two Step thing works ;) no pressure tho, as always <3

Jake S. : wouldn’t miss it for the world, get your boots ready.

This was like being stuck in a car with no brakes and Jake had decided to try and enjoy the ride for as long as it lasted.

[mayoonn]

It's official! Presenting, Alonzo Mavericks, the cowboy from the last fic ♡

"Aren't you sugar? So sweet to bring me dinner.. Thanks.."

A cowboy, rumor has it that he's one of the fearless guys as they are but is he really that scary? He's so shy around you that you thought otherwise about him, he's one lucky soul to have ya! He had heard plenty about you so he is screaming and squealing inside even when he's "cool" from the outside (so mysterious! Σ(･o･; !! )

Hehe so sweet, isn't he (*´˘`*)♡♥︎

Thank you, dear @f0th3rr !! ♥︎

[aliorsboxostuff]

if your still doing topgun stuff, may I get some possessive Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Male!Reader? like reader is getting hit on and Jake makes it known that reader is his?

THIS TOOK 3 MONTHS TO WRITE??? AND IT CAME OUT SO SHORT?? I'm so sorry but your request is so good but I got swarmed with work AGHHHH i hope you enjoy this tho regardless, we love a possessive Jake &lt;3

Display of Affection

Tags: Jake Seresin x Male!reader, Hangman x Male!reader, Hangman, Jake Seresin, The Dagger Squad, male!reader, Penny Benjamin, Possessive behavior, established relationship, smug!boyfriend Jake, alcohol, kissing, slight dirty talk, pushing away a creep, Jake Seresin to the rescue!  Note: Reader’s callsign here is ’Robin’ 

When an enjoyable night at the Hard Deck turns sour when a creep decides to waltz his way to you, Jake Seresin comes to the rescue!

—

reblogs and comments appreciated <3

A slow Friday night at the Hard Deck. The team was lounging around the pool table, bantering with one another, a drink in hand and the slightly warm atmosphere from the tipsiness the booze has granted them. You and the others arrived around 8, right after an important meeting with Mav before he excused himself for the night and went home with Iceman, wishing you all to enjoy your weekend. So, naturally, you all poured into the Hard Deck and continued to bother Penny with horrible jokes while she rolled her eyes. 

Somehow, you all seemed to stay even after rush hour finished, and only your team and a couple of other patrons were milling about. You lean to your left, resting your head on Jake's shoulder as he crosses his arms and says something about baseball to Mickey. The blonde smirks as he reaches a hand around your hip and pulls just slightly closer. You smile, taking another sip from your cup, letting the alcohol warm you. 

You squint when your sip ends short and realize your depleted drink before your eyes finding Jake’s beer bottle almost empty. Moving from your boyfriend's hand, you reach over to take his bottle and your cup with you, Jake raises a brow before you stroll away. “I’ll get us more,”

He smiles, before promptly returning to his conversation. You grin, before reaching the bar where Penny is drying a glass and setting your cup and bottle on the counter. “Another bottle for Jake and a refill for me,” 

“You got it, Robin,” She nods, before taking both of them and going to do her work. You lean over the bar, forearms resting your weight as your eyes roam about the abundance of bottles and decorations strewn about the Hard Deck. A familiar tune passes through you as you begin to hum, waiting for your drink, before the hair on your neck rises and you snap to your right, spotting a man eyeing you, a smirk on his lips, before he decides to make his way towards you. He’s supporting a worn-down flannel with ripped jeans, a futile attempt on trying to style himself. A civilian in their mid-forties-ish, unkept stubble is as clear as the man's drunkenness. 

‘Oh great,’ You roll your eyes, huffing slightly before you stand straight, arms crossed, the annoyance already creeping up your spine. And to no one's surprise, the guy stops beside you, clearly already too drunk for his own dignity, a lopsided smirk while he drops his cup on the bar. By no means are you of a smaller stature than your peers, in fact; Jake is only a couple inches above you and if you were wearing shoes with a bit more on its heels, you'd be the same height as your boyfriend, the same build too. The same predicament currently with the man, only a bit taller than you, but that only seems to fuel him on as he tries to straighten himself, puffing out his chest. 

“Hey there,” A sultry undertone in the man's voice has you swallowing a bile, so you reply to his words with a tight smile. 

“Evening, sir,” You promptly nod, navigating into a more polite route. He sways in your direction, making you lean back to avoid the man, trying to give this person's intoxicated brain a fucking hint. “Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, actually you can,” that irksome smirk is back. Your smile tightens. His arm almost brushes yours. “Can you help me to your number-”

“Is there a problem here?” You jump slightly when you feel a familiar arm loop around your middle, pulling you to the right, before you glance and spot Jake’s dangerous grin aimed at the man. 

The creep halts slightly before he sneers. “This your man?”

“Yeah, and what of it?”  You bite, finding your courage beside Jake’s presence. The man scoffs, disgust written on his face, before he mutters under his breath. 

“Fucking sissies…” 

Your simmering anger accelerates into a boil, your eyes growing wide with a retort at the end of your tongue before Jake’s hand cups your jaw, cutting you off from shouting at the man and pressing his lips against yours. You let out a small confused noise before Jake starts to prod between your lips, asking for entrance, at which slides in and tastes your tongue. Between your boyfriend's solid hold and the arm around your hips, dizziness begins to envelop you, intoxicated by Jake’s sudden movements. 

The kiss ends with Jake softly pulling back, before nudging your head to rest against his chest. “Don't be a hypocrite, would you? Last time I checked you were hitting on a man as well,”

You could practically feel Jake’s burning smirk. You can't help but stand in shock, face as warm as it has been this whole night, and shifting slightly to bury your face deeper into Jake’s embrace. Your boyfriend chuckles lightly, before turning back to the man. “But this one is taken, so why don't you kindly fuck off?” 

The man choked on his words, before slamming a couple of bills onto the bar and storming out of the bar. The sound of the door shifting relieves your tension, slowly raising your head. Your eyes meet your boyfriend, a warm smile on his lips. He raises a hand and pushes a couple of stray fringes, arranging them back properly into your hairstyle. 

“Thank you, Jake. That guy is way over his head. You did all of us a favor,” Penny’s voice snaps you out and you move slightly apart from Jake, though you already miss his warmth. Jake laughs and shakes his head.

“All in a day's work, Penny,” He winks, quickly snatching your refill and his beer, before turning to walk back to the squad table. You nod a thanks towards Penny before catching up to Jake, bumping his side. He moves his arms, exaggerating as if he was going to drop the beverages. 

“Whoah! Careful princey,” He chuckles, swaying slightly. 

You roll your eyes fondly. “I had him, y’know,” 

“Oh I know baby,” You snap to his face, eyes sharp, which makes Jake let out another surprised laugh. “I mean it! I do! I don't doubt that you’d probably sock that guy in the face,”

“But we’re not trying to get kicked out by our dear Penny, right?” He raises an expectant brow, which makes you huff, a small smile tugging at the edge of your lips. The two of you slide back into your previous seats, discreetly shuffling to press against your boyfriend. You knew he simply smiled, wrapping an arm around your middle. What you didn't expect was his breath fanning against your neck as he leaned in.

“Besides, I don't get many chances to show others you're mine.” 

Your face heats. Scrambling to push Jake’s mouth away from getting any closer. The room suddenly grew hotter, a steady stream of arousal moving through your body. “Jake…”

Jake laughs, patting your shoulder lightly. There's a light dusting of pink on his cheeks, most likely from the liquor. “I know, Robin! I know!”

His laugh cuts short, before that devilish smirk is back on your boyfriend's enticing lips. “Later, then…” 

Requests are open! (slow res)

[jaidens]

The sand from your hair is blowin' in my eyes Blame it on the beach, grown men don't cry

pairing [s] : bradley bradshaw x reader

warning [s] : mentions of : crying, anxiety, death, drinking | angst with comfort!

a/n [s] : requests are open!

Bradley sits on the beach, but he feels a million miles away from everything.

You sit next to him as you tell him about work recently and how your coworker did something. Admittedly, he wasn't listening like he usually did, but he stares at the breaking waves and the wind that slips through his cloth Old Navy t-shirt and the shorts he brought to swim in.

Bradley grew up without a father figure after he was five years old. He only had the distinct memories of Goose, his Uncle Maverick, and his mother. He craved the feeling of being able to hug his dad one last time, not just staring at the picture of his Little League team and his father's dumb mustache and Ray-Ban Caravans that sit on his nose.

Bradley sits next to him with a dumb, blond bowl cut and a huge smile as he sits with Goose in his arms. He craves that feeling of being a kid, without worry. He's beside himself as the tears blur the sunset and ocean out of his view, striking like a broken mirror.

“Bradley..” A quiet voice is let through to his ears, as he covers his face with his hands and curls in on himself. “Hey, hey what's wrong?” He can't pull himself to look at you, the person he truly loves as you let your hand touch his arm softly.

Bradley found love, and was able to tell his mother as she laid sick that he was happy. After his father's death, he couldn't live for himself to love. Until Carole had slapped some sense into her son, telling him to find love and that everything will start to make sense. He heard all the stories growing up about Goose's romantic gestures of singing Great Balls of Fire; dedicated to his lovely wife.

When he found you, sitting at the bar sipping on a Sprite and eating one of Penny's famous dinner foods, he knew he was in love. He was freshly out of the Flight Academy, young and dumb when he met you. His mustache barely growing in and still wearing his college baseball shirts.

“Brad, don't ignore me. I know you can hear me.”

One thing about Bradley was his ignoring of problems. His therapist had tried to work him out of the habit, after the dangers of almost getting hurt in the plane after he disregarded Maverick’s commands. It also stood for emotionally ignoring. A year ago, Bradley would have never talked and would've let it out with anger and crying if he was confronted with a problem he wasn't sure how to solve.

“I—I–...” Bradley begins before that frog in his throat appears, biting on his tongue. The tears well up in his eyes, as he takes his hand and wipes them away. The feeling bubbles up inside of him like a Coke shaken with Mentos inside.

“It’s okay, I'm here.” You remind him softly, making sure to hold his hand to help him further in knowing you weren't leaving him alone.

“Hangman— today he mentioned Goose. Told everyone. Maverick didn't even do anything either, I almost fought him too. Then, I remembered Dad. He would've despised me if I used violence.”

“And– and, Maverick keeps bugging me about just fixing my relationship with him. I have no reason too! He pulled my papers!” Bradley stops when he starts practically sobbing, tears running down his face and hands shaking. The anger mixes into his sadness and fear of everything.

He feels embarrassed acting like this in front of you— a grown man crying in someone's arms about another grown man. Bradley feels the weight of his body falling off of him as you rub his back with your hand, and keep on hand raking in the curls of the back of his head.

“Bradley, whatever Hangman said, was unacceptable. Hopefully he apologizes because you do not deserve that at all.” You said. “Maverick loves you Bradley, he basically raised you. What he did as well was horrible, but from what I know about Mav, it was probably meant to happen.”

Bradley takes your words to heart, holding onto your hand now with an actual grip. His lip quivers while he feels your thumb trace over his knuckles. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffles quietly. You smell like salt water and coconut as he lays in the curve of your neck and shoulder. “Thanks.” Bradley says a few minutes later.

Bradley stares at you, the soft smile you have and his big Ford Bronco t-shirt you have on. You look ethereal in the golden and pink hues that collect in the San Diego sky. He feels your connection that wraps your souls together. He's so in love with you, and he thanks whatever big guy is up there, that puts you and him together.

“Why?” You ask him back, looking down at him at where he lays.

“Because. You're always there for me. Always say the right things.” Bradley admits softly. Messing with the towel you have laid on the ground. “It’s why I love you so much.”

His words are anything but foreign to your ears. You smile at him and see him still finding his breath after the cry that he needed to get out of him. “I love you too. I will never stop loving you.”

He feels closer to everything, you as well as himself. Bradley hopes his mother can see him now, holding the person he loves in his arms.

[nykie-love-anime]

Day 25 ~ Reading In Bed

Iceman is sick and he wants his boyfriend to read to him to feel a bit better.

“Come one Ice you have to stay in bed.” You pleaded with your sniffling boyfriend as he stood up to follow you. “But you are so warm. You are taking away all my heat if you are going. So where you go I will follow.” He grumbled out as he sniffled shuffling closer to you. Laying his head on your broad chest he let out a content sigh wrapping his arms around your middle.

“If I get sick I am going to smack you.” You started saying but could not bring yourself to say anything further as you looked down onto his face. Sickly yet adorably cute. “I just wanted to get you medicine. You could have cuddled the blankets for a bit you know that right.” You whispered into his ear but he just shook his head. “No only you. I don’t like the blankets touching me.” He whined out the me for a second too long. “Okay come on mister Ice.” You started pulling him back towards your bedroom. “For such a great pilot you really are a baby when you are sick.” You mumbled and he just whined that he is not a baby causing you to giggle.

Once you are settled into bed again he cuddled into you immediately. “I want you to read me something please.” He pleaded with a tired sigh. “It would make me feel ten times better because you know I love it when you read to me.” He concluded and you just nod. “Sure thing babe.” You looked to your bedside table and picked up the book that you are currently reading. ‘Hopefully he doesn’t mind a good romance novel.’ You though open the book by chapter 4 where you last stopped reading.

As you continued to read you felt Tom’s head get heavy and his eyes started fluttering close trying to fight off the sleep that was taking him over. Reading for about five minutes more you decided it was enough and you moved down the bed to lay down after putting your book back on the table and Tom immediately cuddled further into your chest whispering to himself that this right here is how he is content.

“I love you mister Kazansky.” You muttered kissing his forehead with a tired giggle escaping him “I love you mister Y/L/N.” he whispered and about a minute or two later he is finally out cold. Quietly getting up you went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and his medicine for when he is awake. As you poured water into his cup you felt arms wrapped around your waist. “Now what did I tell you about being out of bed.” You teased and he smiled softly into your neck.

“And what did I tell you about being my personal heater.” He mumbled back and you just laughed. “Well you are never going to get better if you keep getting out of bed mister Kazansky.” “Yeah, yeah whatever come back to bed it is very lonely without you there. And I am freezing my ass off without you there.” He said pulling you towards the bedroom. “Okay fine but you have to take your medicine first so that you can start feeling better.” You said pointing at the glass of water and the cold medicine.

“Fine dad.” He grumbled but thankfully he complied. “Hey that is daddy or sir for you.” You teased the sick man with a smirk and he just laughed but was cut off by a coughing fit. “And that is why you should stay in bed.” You rubbed his back to sooth his coughing. “Come on let’s get back into bed and you can have your personal heater back.” You smiled pulling the blond back to bed.

Day 24 | Masterlist | Day 26

[issdisgrace]

HEAR ME OUT

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Love Rises From The Ashes 🔥 | Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace Imagine

Takes place after the events of TGM

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x male rockstar!reader (romantic), Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x reader (past romance), dagger squad x reader (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, light angst, mentioned of implied suggestive content| Male!reader (he/him) | wc: 7.1k

Premise: High school sweethearts don’t always get a second chance at love. Natasha Trace and Y/n L/n surely didn’t think they would. With Natasha becoming one of the best fighter pilots the Navy has ever produced and Y/n sealing his name as rock music’s resident bad boy, the two couldn’t be on opposite sides of the spectrum. But fate seems to work in mysterious ways.

requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Note: to the anon who requested this I hope you enjoyed it! So sorry it took awhile, I had to deal with dropping a class and things came up so I hope I delivered with everything you imagined. Thank you so much for your patience ! I had so much fun writing this and loved every second! ♥️

Songs headcanon for rockstar!reader: “Giving Up the Gun” by Vampire Weekend, “Where I Come From,” by Passion Pit, “The Antidote,” by St. Vincent, “No Control,” & “Girl Almighty” by One Direction, “These Streets,” by Bastille, “Beggin’” By Måneskin.

February 2023

“Hello I’m Ryan Secrest and we are live from the red carpet at Crypto.com Arena at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards! It’s the biggest night in music with all the stars here tonight—Harry Styles, Taylor Swift, Lizzo, Bad Bunny and Beyonce have been spotted. Hip-Hop celebrates 50 years with a stellar lineup in tonight’s tribute as well as honors to music legends Smokey Robinson and Berry Gordy. Everyone’s buzzing about the upcoming performance—Bad Bunny is rumored to be opening the show and rock n roll bad boy Y/n L/n will be sharing the stage with icons The Red Hot Chili Peppers. Stay tuned or tap into our livestream happening on YouTube as we greet music's biggest stars as they walk the red carpet.”

Fixing the collar of his neon green Versace suit, Y/n smiles when he feels Natasha take his hand as the limo approaches the entrance of the carpet. Dressed in a stunning black gown with neon green poking through the sides and the iconic Versace paperclips attaching them together, Nat was a goddess. Her makeup was similar to his, light with black eyeliner to accentuate her eyes with neon green graphic detailing to make it pop. Only Nat’s was clean and sharp whereas Y/n’s was smudged. A glossy nude painted her lips.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. “Nervous?” It didn’t surprise him that Nat could tell what he was feeling. They’d known each other for so long it was easy to pick up on cues from one another.

“You would think I’d be used to this by now,” Y/n chuckled, flipping his hand so his palm encased hers. “After so many years….but still the carpet part has me sweating.” Briefly thinking back to one of his first red carpets, Y/n internally cringed as the image of him not knowing what the hell to do and talking to so many reporters in a short amount of time. Nowadays he’s had no filter and will say whatever shit comes to mind. The media loves it obviously…except when it’s directed at them.

For the rockstar, he only liked showing up to award shows for the show itself. He looked forward to sitting in the chairs with fellow musicians, watching performances, and the thrill of excitement when he won whatever he was nominated for.

Personally he could do without the red carpet. But unfortunately it came with the event. It was the fucking Grammy’s after all.

Nat patted his hand, pulling him from the memory, “You’re a pro at this, babe. Patty and I will be there every step.” Patty was his publicist, who really made it easier for him on carpets by telling the interviewer to keep it fast and quick. “And if you feel overwhelmed or want to get out of there quickly just squeeze my hand and we’ll book it.” The offer makes Y/n laugh, kissing Nat’s hand as he brings it to his lips.

“What would I do without you, Natasha Trace?”

“I like to not think about that,” she teases with a smirk, “But you’d probably try to find a backdoor to sneak into the stadium.”

“Yeah…I definitely would.”

As the limo came to a stop, Y/n mentally prepared himself to face the dozens of cameras, screaming fans, and vulture reporters. He wondered where the guys were going to be seated. Knowing Rooster they probably got the floor beside the stage reserved for fans or front rows of the stands on the side. Either way, he was gonna search them out once they got inside.

Cheers met Y/n’s ears, ringing as he gave a brief wave when stepping out of the vehicle. Turning he held out his hand to assist Natasha, her diamond engagement ring sparkling under the daylight. The cheers seemed to increase at the sight of her, the woman blushing while Y/n smoothed out the fabric of her dress. With a kiss to her cheek, he took her hand and led her onto the carpet, both waving to the many supporters calling out to them.

“Y/n, I love you!!!”

“You look gorgeous, Natasha!! You guys are so hot!!”

“Good luck tonight—it’s your year!!”

Then you had the photographers shouting over them.

“Y/n, Natasha, over here!!”

“Can we get a glimpse of that ring, Natasha?”

“When’s the wedding—are you two having it in San Diego or New York?”

“Over here, Y/n, over here!”

“Y/n, are you excited to perform with the Red Hot Chili Peppers tonight?”

“Yes I am,” he replied over the noise, making the guy give a smile of victory he got acknowledged. “It’s gonna be epic, I can tell you that.”

Soon it came time for the interviews. And God was there a lot. E! Network, Access Hollywood, MTV, ABC, EXTRA, Hollywood Reporter, Entertainment Tonight, & The Insider….and those were just the major ones. Smaller networks were present as well, but thankfully Y/n’s publicist only scheduled him for the big ones.

“Y/n, Natasha, lovely to see you two here tonight,” the lady from Entertainment Tonight greeted them with a smile, “you two look stunning—who are you wearing?”

“These are custom pieces from Donatella Versace herself,” smoothing a hand down his chest, Y/n gave Natasha a twirl to show off her gown. “It’s the Grammy’s so you know we had to roll in nothing but the best.”

“As you should—we love to see it. Let me be the one of many congratulations on your recent engagement,” the couple grinned, thanking her while the camera panned to Nat’s ring. “You two have been together for four years, correct?”

“Going on four this year. But if you count when we were teenagers then about seven,” Winking, Y/n sees Nat blush once more, the reporter lovin the juicy details.

“That’s right, you two were high school sweethearts. How was it when you guys rekindled, did it feel like it was back then or sorta fresh?”

Natasha answered this time, “A mix of both really. We had been good friends as kids that blossomed into young love before fate took us separate ways. When we reunited it was almost like meeting a different person while also feeling the sense of familiarity within them. If that makes sense,” she laughs at the end.

“I agree, but then again I know not to disagree with this one,” Y/n teases, tickling Nat’s side to make her giggle. The reporter and cameras were eating it up. Y/n brings his fiancée closer to him, “We gotta thank our buddy, aka my old flame turned bestie, Rooster, who brought us back together. That’s not his actual name by the way,” the rockstar laughs at the perplexed expression of the reporter, “He is not named after a male chicken.”

“Old flame?” She hums curiously, “by that do you mean your ex?”

Y/n feels his publicist tap him on the shoulder, signaling it was time to go to the next interviewer. Squeezing Nat’s hand, he smirks to the camera, “He prefers to be called, ‘long-term booty call,’.” With that he spun on his heel to escort Nat away, chuckling at the lady’s jaw dropping at the answer. Beside him, Nat playfully tsks, “Bradshaw’s never gonna forget that.”

“Oh he loves it.”

If you asked the 36 year old rockstar that his once fling with a hot asipiring Naval aviator would lead him to his teenage love, Y/n would’ve told you, “This ain’t a fucking romance story. But I love the optimism.”

Traveling back in time while he goes through the many reporters and photographers, Y/n could still picture the once young 15-year old smitten with the girl next door who was his best friend. What was supposed to be a pact between the two of each other’s first kiss, turned into something more than was once a fantasy to them. Both harboring crushes without saying anything until the feelings after the kiss became too much and they were spilling the confessions at the same time.

“I like you—.”

“I like you—.”

“Wait—what?”

“You serious right now?” Cue a passionate kiss seconds later. The two over the moon in what could only be described as a teenage dream happening before their eyes. Endless nights of sneaking out without their parents knowing to cuddle and skateboard down the quiet streets, exchanging kisses while the stars danced above them. Stares from their peers in school were envious on both ends. Girls jealous that Nat was with the resident bad boy they all desired to have while guys couldn’t believe Y/n pulled the girl of their dreams.

They were complete opposites.

Y/n with his gages, ripped 80s band t-shirts and chains with highlights in his hair. Kids would call him names because he liked makeup, painted his nails and often wore large shirts as dresses with heeled boots. He wasn’t afraid to call people out on their bullshit even if they were figures of authority and was open about loving people regardless of what rested between their legs. While he was smart he didn’t care much for school but still did what he had to do though it was half ass.

Then you had Natasha, captain of the color guard and member of the JROTC drill team. Every year she was elected the president or VP of the class’s student council, claiming student body president of her senior class. Popular wasn’t the right term for her. Nat was well known throughout the school by name but she wasn’t someone who surrounded herself with a lot of friends. Not to mention she wasn’t the typical stuck up bitch people associated with popularity. Kind and nurtured, Nat was the type to welcome new students and offer tutoring to those in need. She was the top student in all her classes, rumored to be the Valedictorian when she graduated and crowned homecoming Queen.

Two sides of a coin, while Natasha was the one everyone saw making it big in the world, people believed Y/n would be a lost cause in the world. His grades were the bare minimum, test scores lacking when it came to college applications and showed no interest in pursuing higher education. Really the only thing he enjoyed was music class and showed talent in English when they were in poetry lessons. His teacher once said, “These are like songs, Y/n. I’m amazed with how lyrically beautiful they are,” she reads over the lines before handing the paper back to him, “Have you ever thought of going to music school?”

“I would if my family could afford it and if it was a guarantee my work would make it big. But it’s not so why waste my time and money.” Was always his answer.

His girlfriend on the other hand had every teacher offering to write letters of recommendation. Her ACT and SAT scores were exceeding, qualifying for Ivy League schools like Harvard and Princeton. Any university Nat applied to was met with an acceptance letter, the one bringing her most joy from the Naval Academy.

It was already common knowledge to Y/n that Nat wanted to be a pilot. Ever since they were kids she was talking about planes and flying. She was one of those kids who loved going to the airport when her family went on vacation that required them flying. One time she even asked to see the cockpit and was captivated by all the controls the pilots were telling her about. Then the local air show took place at the nearby naval base, securing the dream for Natasha she was determined to achieve.

So when the summer after graduation ended, both knew what was coming.

“We’ve got each other on MySpace,” her voice is soft, keeping her eyes on him while her family finished packing up the car with her belongings. “We can write letters and send emails. Maybe even plan a visit some time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n agrees, matching her tone. Hands in his pockets, he tries not to show how heartbroken he is. It was a mutual breakup so it shouldn’t hurt too much, but when it’s your first love you’re saying goodbye to the impact is lasting. “Even if we fall off, Nat, just know I’m always rooting for you. You were made for something more than this shitty place.”

“So are you,” she counters. “You act like you have nothing going for you now that school is over, but Y/n you have so much talent. You should really try to find a band or intern at some label—no matter how small. Maybe someone will see your work. I’m rooting for you too, you know?”

“I know, Natty. I’ll think about it. You just focus on becoming the best damn pilot the Navy has ever seen. We’ll see what fate has planned for me.”

Off to the Academy, Nat shed tears as the image of her now ex-boyfriend got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. She could only hope they would stay in contact, or cross paths in the future, but for now she had a mission to do.

Out of school and with little to his name, Y/n packed up everything he owned and moved to New York City. There he found an ad for a roommate with a bunch of guys who attended Pratt Institute, which just so happened to be above a music store. Quickly he secured a job at the shop and worked as many days as he could to save up for equipment to start making his own music.

Unfortunately he and Natasha did fall off like he expected. It pained him to admit he wasn’t surprised, but when the two of them were on completely opposite sides of the spectrum and lives going separate paths, it was bound to happen. All he hoped was for her to be having a great time at the Academy. That she would have all her dreams come true. From the sidelines he was her cheerleader.

After a couple years of working at the store, however, the shop owners Y/n had become close to eventually allowed him to borrow some instruments they had that were not for sale—so long as he did not fuck them up. Originally Y/n planned to make mock music videos for his songs and upload them to the buzzing video sharing website YouTube.

What he didn’t plan for was his boss contacting a buddy of his who happened to work at Def Jam Records after Y/n showed him his demo for ‘Giving Up The Gun.’

“Y/n, come here real quick,” Alan called him over from behind the register, the 21-year-old noticing he was with a man in a suit. The man appeared to be the same age as Alan, shaking Y/n’s hand when he introduced himself, “The name's Dale Kingston. You must be Y/n, Alan has told me a lot about you.”

“Hello, Sir,” he politely replies, glancing over to Alan with a raised brow. “Forgive me, but he’s never mentioned me to you.” The two men lightly laugh.

“Nah I wouldn’t put it past him too. Old man likes to keep everything about him mysterious.”

“I don’t who you’re calling old,” Alan quips back playfully, “Anyway, Y/n. Dale and I go way back—we were roommates in college actually. And while I made a career of sharing the art of music by opening my businesses, Dale ended up making a career of looking for the next best talent in the industry. He’s an exec at Def Jam Records,” Y/n felt his bulge open, flickering to Dale who nodded as Alan’s lips rose to a smirk. “And I sent him what you showed me. Hope you don’t mind, but Dale would like to talk to you if you’re alright with it.”

In just one hour of conversing, Dale left Y/n with his business card and a meeting with his team at their headquarters in Manhattan that weekend. Bursting through the door of his apartment, Y/n’s roommates flinched at the sudden sound, “Get up motherfuckers we’re going out tonight!!!” At the popular gay bar just up the street from where they lived, Y/n and his roommates celebrated with drinks and made out with strangers while dancing to Rihanna and Lady Gaga blasting through the speakers.

“Yo, Y/n/n, that hottie in the Hawaiian shirt is totally eye fucking you right now.”

“Well hot damn,” he hummed in delight, making eye contact with said hottie in a Hawaiian shirt. ‘Oh I’m going home with him tonight.’

The hottie in the Hawaiian shirt was named Bradley Bradshaw. A total stud, he rocked the 80s pornstache like no other and a body Y/n wanted to lick sugar off of. He was a native of Virginia who was visiting New York with some of his friends to celebrate his impending entrance to the Naval Academy.

Y/n found this as they basked in the afterglow of their hot session following the bar, “Wait, you’re going to the Naval academy? This fall?”

“Yup,” Bradley proudly states, “It sucks though cause I’ll be the oldest in my class. I’m about to be twenty-two and I’ll be surrounded by eighteen and nineteen year olds.”

“Why is that?” At Bradley’s changed expression, Y/n quickly takes the question back. “Nevermind, don’t tell me if you don’t want to. Shit, I just made it awkward.”

“No-no-no,” Bradley chuckles, placing his beer down on the nightstand. “It’s okay—just I am still bitter about it as you can tell. My uh…the guy who was like a father to me after my dad died pulled my application when I initially sent it in high school.” The confession has Y/n frown, feeling the wave of sadness and resentment radiate off of Bradley.

“That fucking wasn’t right. Did he ever tell you why?”

“No. He wouldn’t when I confronted him,” he rubs his jaw, “I haven’t spoken to him since.”

Switching things up so as to not further upset Bradley, Y/n asks, “What are you going for?” This brings light to the man, a smile coating his face.

“Aeronautical engineering.”

Something in Y/n’s stomach flipped, “Oh wow…are you wanting to be a pilot?” Surprise now takes over, Bradley raising a brow as asks how he knew. Y/n lights a blunt, taking a deep inhale to prepare him for explaining. He would’ve offered Bradley it but now knowing he was going to a military academy it was best not to.

“My ex girlfriend is there for the same. In fact…she should be graduating next spring,” he sighs out the smoke, feeling the ease fill his veins as memories of Natasha play in his mind. “Being a pilot was all she ever dreamed of. It’s why she worked so hard in school to meet the requirements for the program. Valedictorian, Cadet Colonel of the JROTC unit—we had Air Force not Navy though,” he specified at Bradley’s tilt of the head of the ranks. “We broke up just before she moved into the dorms. It was mutual, no hard feelings at all. She was going places and at the time I wasn’t.”

“And now you’re going places?” Bradley wondered aloud. Lips lifting in a smirk, Y/n simply replied, “Let’s sure fucking hope so.”

The rest of the night was filled with small talk and discussions about each other’s hopeful future. Y/n filled Bradley in on his dreams of music and how he was meeting with execs from Def Jam. Bradley was leaving back to Virginia soon but they promised to meet up again and keep in touch. They continued to hook up a few more times after that night and even went on a few dates, but after a couple months they realized they were better off as friends. Just like with Natasha, Y/n didn’t want to tie Bradley down or expect something serious when he was just starting his Naval career.

Plus, his own dreams were just getting started.

“That was ‘Giving Up The Gun,’ by an upcoming artist from Def Jam Records, Y/n L/n. The twenty-one year old from Scottsdale, Arizona seems to be giving a new voice to rock music, throwing in elements of pop and techno that we’ve gotten lucky to hear from his newly released EP. Critics and fans have already started labeling him the next David Bowie due to his colorful hair and outfits while not being afraid to wear glitter eyeshadow and lipstick. For those of us in the studio, we’re looking forward to what Y/n has to offer the music world.”

An EP became an album. One that hit the top of the charts in its first few weeks and established Y/n as the next rock n roll bad boy. Winning Best New Artist at the VMAs and AMAs, the early 2010s had Y/n’s name written all over it. Appearances on Good Morning America and the Ellen Degeneres Show. New York became his base of operation and soon Y/n embraced the high life he was getting from making it big. Rooster and him met up often to celebrate each milestone, the two growing closer as the years went on.

The next big break came in 2011 when Y/n was offered features on the Twilight Saga Breaking Dawn Part 2 soundtracks. ‘Where I Come From’ & ‘The Antidote’ were huge successes. He couldn’t believe he was walking the red carpet of a Hollywood premier when the film was released. And Lord was Robert Pattinson a sight for sore eyes. Kristen too. The soundtrack went on to receive a Grammy nomination with Y/n winning at the Teen Choice Awards the next summer. A world tour shortly after, Y/n fell in love with the road and meeting fans every night from across the globe.

And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fan casts people made of him. Anytime it was announced a book was getting an adaptation, he was always what people pictured as the bad boy/sexy villain.

But acting wasn’t something Y/n was interested in. Personally he felt like he couldn’t act for shit and wouldn’t handle 12 hour work days or having to move every few months for a new project. New York was his home, with L.A being his second, and music was his life.

By 2016 Y/n had really made a name of himself in the music world. He was featured on more film soundtracks like Fast & The Furious 7 and Deadpool. Rock music got a new wave of fans. Y/n even changed it up a bit by collaborating with pop artists and rappers. ‘These Streets’ was well received by critics and fans, earning Y/n his third Grammy nomination that he had yet to win.

“You’re gonna get this year, Y/n/n,” Rooster assured him, passing a beer as they sat on the lounge chairs overlooking the beaches of Virginia. “If you don’t then they’re fucking out of their mind. Your hits this year were amazing—top of the charts and platinum in weeks! I’ll boycott them next year if they don’t give it to you.”

Unfortunately Rooster would have to make due with that promise for a few years.

Y/n didn’t want to say he cared about winning a Grammy. But truth be told he did wish he could say that of the nearly seven nominations he had received by 2019, he got a win. Whether it was Record of The Year or Album of The Year, it seemed the golden trophy was out of his reach. Whenever it was brought up in interviews he would brush it off saying, “I’m honored to have been recognized just from my nominations, but I don’t believe it should dictate how I am as an artist.”

One day he hoped to be standing on the stage, holding the award and thanking his loved ones and team who were just as much of winners as he was. But only time would tell.

Speaking of time, it seemed to work in mysterious ways.

A phone call from Rooster in December of 2019 had Y/n clad in a stunning suit appropriate for a Military ball and on his way to meet some of the pilots colleagues. It was to be a celebratory event to commemorate the group of Top Gun alumni in their successful mission stopping a uranium enrichment plant from becoming operational. Y/n had been very worried when Bradley informed him of the assignment. He was overseas finishing up his tour so one could imagine the anxiety he felt at the possibility his best friend could die.

Bradley picked Y/n up from his hotel in San Diego, the two having a quick pregame before arriving at the venue to the shell-shocked faces of the officers. Mickey, who was introduced as Fanboy, could barely make out words. Javy and Jake were looking at each other with expressions that read, “what the actual fuck?”, while Payback took a moment to be like ‘woah’ and proceed to act like Y/n was just a regular person.

“So how do you two know each other?” Jake was the first to ask what everyone was thinking. It wasn’t everyday one learns their rival-turned-friend was casually best friends with one of the best modern rock stars of their generation. Then he choked on his beer when Y/n simply replied, “We used to hook up.”

The questions rolled off from there.

“Wait, you two were together?”

“And you stayed friends?”

“Hold the phone, I need some details.”

After taking time to answer the questions, Rooster takes the moment to ask, “Where’s Phoenix and Bob?” This has Y/n raise his brow, not knowing who either were. Rooster had only briefly mentioned his colleagues to him, but never really explained who they were or how they met. He liked to keep his work life separate from his personal life.

Payback answered, “they’re on the way. I think Bob mentioned his Dress Blues were lost in the cleaners so he had to scramble to get a tux.”

“Damn. Well let’s get some drinks ready for when they get here.”

To say Y/n’s jaw about hit the floor when his eyes landed on Lt. Natasha “Phoenix” Trace was an understatement. In fact he had to rub his eyes just to make sure it was really her he was seeing. The same could be said for Natasha, who’s own eyes were bulging from her skull.

“Nat?”

“Y/n/n?’

Now everyone was looking between the two. “You two know each other too?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh, “Well if this isn’t a small world, then I don’t know what is.” A sudden feeling he couldn’t describe washed over him. He turns to Rooster to whisper under his breath, “You remember my high school girlfriend I once told you about?” Now it’s the pilot whose eyes are wide.

“Nat’s your high school sweetheart?” The exclamation could pretty much be heard through the entire venue, the daggers all showing faces of shock.

“Yup,” Y/n pops the ‘p’, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “She sure is.” Facing Nat, he bites his lip and says, “Uh, how have you been, Nat? It’s been like….I wanna say ten…fifteen years?”

“Just about, yeah,” Nat blushes, unsure how to respond. But how does one respond when they’re faced with their high school sweetheart who was a best selling rockstar? “I’ve been good. I would ask the same, but I’ve been following your career since you debuted.”

“You have?” Y/n was surprised by this. “Wow, um thank you. I see you were just as successful in your endeavors.” It comes to his mind that Natasha was the person Bradley always referred to as Phoenix in his stories. “Bradley’s told me a lot about you…but I never thought to ask what the name of ‘Phoenix’ was. Possibly I would've reunited with you sooner if I did.”

Nat takes the drink Y/n hands to her with a thanks, “You know when he mentioned he was good friends with someone named Y/n that he used to be involved with, I just assumed it was someone who shared a name with you. I didn’t think to ask further.”

“Eh, I don't blame you. I felt the instant awkwardness at the realization you and him share an ex.” Gesturing for the two to sit at a table away from the others, Y/n shared a look with Bradley and saw him biting back a laugh at his words. Nat on the other hand appeared a little flustered.

“How long were you together?” She cringed at how awful the question sounded. Why the fuck did she need to know? Her and Y/n had been broken up for years. It’s not like they were going to just pick things back up where they left off.

“Oh only a couple months. We realized we were better off as friends—especially since he was going off to the Academy and I had just been signed. To be honest,” Y/n paused to sip his beer, “it was mostly just the physical attraction we needed to get out of the way. It was great while it lasted but it never felt like it could become something more.” He made sure to not add the tiny fact he still had feelings for Natasha at the time.

Well maybe he still did. Lord knows being next to her was giving him those schoolboy feelings again.

The two talked almost the entire night. And then when the ball was done and the team migrated to The Hard Deck, they continued to stay close to each other. Nat told Y/n all about her years at the Academy and making it to fight school. Becoming one of the few female aviators and an alumni of the prestigious Fighter Weapons School before ending with the details about the mission she did with Rooster.

“It was the most intense thing I had ever been a part of,” she explained. “I’ve seen some crazy shit in all the years I’ve been flying. But this mission was beyond my limit—I-I still can’t believe we managed to pull it off.”

“I’m really proud of you, Nat,” Y/n’s smile was genuine, filled with sincerity. “Rooster told me about what he could, and hearing your side just makes me so grateful you guys came home.”

Y/n gave Nat all the juicy details of his high life in the music industry. How his boss was friends with an executive from Def Jam and was basically the reason he got discovered. He couldn’t help but laugh when Nat admitted she bought his albums and would watch the award shows he attended.

“I’m just so happy for you!” She defended with a playful shove. “After I heard you made it big of course I was going to support you anyway I could. You were also featured in Twilight and I happened to be obsessed with it when it came out so I was very excited to see you were featured on the soundtrack. Call me biased but ‘The Antidote’ and ‘Where I Come From’ are my favorites you’ve ever released.”

By the end of the night…or nearly morning because the time was pushing 4 am, Y/n and Nat parted ways with the promise of meeting up for coffee that weekend.

Neither went into things expecting anything to happen. As adults they simply wanted to see how things played out and if being friends could be possible. They didn’t end on bad terms which was good in itself. So why not try to make a friendship?

Well when a global pandemic hits when you and your ex are hanging out that results in you two having to go through quarantine together….close proximity can result in things neither planned for.

It first started out with simple compliments and the two watching movies together. Then it progressed to acts of service where Y/n would bring Natasha lunch or coffee when she was remotely working from home. For weeks this happened with both battling feelings beginning to resurface. Natasha tried to brush it off like a teenage crush. That she was being a hopeless romantic at the thought she and Y/n could possibly date again.

Would it be different now that they were adults? It’s not like they were kids again. Both were in successful careers that they worked hard for. Both were financially stable and would live comfortably when they retire in thirty or so years. Nat was a Lieutenant, and likely had a promotion lined up within the next year. And Y/n was working on new music so there was nothing he was too worried about.

After almost three months of dancing around feelings, one night the two were having dinner when the topic was brought up.

“Nat,” Y/n starts with a sigh. “I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this.” Her face falls to a frown, looking away as her heart picks up pace.

“Put up with what exactly?”

“Pretending like I don’t want to hold you in my arms. Like I don’t want to kiss you on the forehead before you fall asleep or tell you how you’re the most important person in my life. Since I was fifteen I’ve loved you and the reason no relationship I’ve had after has worked is because I’m so hung up on you.”

When he contemplates if he made the mistake confessing, he’s suddenly around the kitchen island to bring Nat into a searing kiss when she says, “What if I told you, you don’t have to pretend anymore?”

Their love felt natural. They already had a taste of it as teenagers. Now as adults it was busting like a rocket ship. That deep, immense feeling of love one can’t even begin to describe. Like the person was their air and kept them to the Earth.

Bradley was over the moon when they told. Really he was the first to find out the second they decided to make it official. He was Y/n’s best friend after all and Nat was the closest he had to a sister. Although he and the rockstar had history, Rooster would never let it be an issue and supported the two wholeheartedly. “It’s about damn time!” He yelled over the FaceTime call. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen since the night of the ball!”

It didn’t take long for the world to find out the resident bad boy of rock music was off the market. Hearts broke but many were happy for Y/n. Lots of fans actually thought it was the most adorable thing that he was back with his high school sweetheart after fifteen years of being apart. Natasha became well loved among his supporters and although she didn’t have much of a social media presence, she was always met with positivity. Anytime there was a rude ‘fan’ she would just block them without giving any attention.

“I’m a fucking pilot,” she rolled her eyes at the comment of how she was only with Y/n for money and his status. “They act like I didn’t make something for myself or have a career.”

“You tell ‘em, babe,” Y/n praises from the side, causing Nat to playfully roll her eyes.

2021 and 2022 were met with several milestones. Natasha was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and Y/n released his fifth studio album. Planning to go on tour in the summer of 2022, the couple went on a much needed vacation to celebrate their two year anniversary and relax after constant nonstop work in their lives.

“I could get used to this,” the pilot hummed in content, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on her skin. The gentle sound of the ocean waves was soothing to her ears. Beside her Y/n laid on his stomach with a book in his hands while music played on the speaker. “Maybe I’ll just stay here while you go off to see the world.”

He snorted, “I’ll be jealous if you do.” Patting her thigh, he closed the book and threw it to the side. Cracking open two bottles of beer, he handed one to Nat, clicking the glass with her, “Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Happy anniversary to you, mister. Thank you for this.”

“Anything for my baby.”

The tour was a success and Natasha even managed to fly out for a few shows. Fans loved it when she did because she’d stand in the crowd to sing and dance with supporters rather than be in the VIP section or just off the stage. It was almost as though Natasha was the star of the concert rather than Y/n. Every show she attended the camera would be put on her at some point so the rockstar could dedicate his song, ‘Girl Almighty’ to her. He had written it just shortly after the two got back together, the woman instantly tearing up after she first heard the final product.

Fans would go crazy during the set, mostly because Y/n would come to where Natasha was at and get on his knees to sing the line, “I’d get down, I’d get down, I’d get down on my knees for you.” Then he’d hold a cup of water in the air, the crowd doing the same with their own drinks, for, “Let’s have another toast for the girl almighty. Let’s pray we stay young, stay made of lightning.”

Oh and let’s not forget about ‘No Control’…..a fan favorite that had Natasha blushing mad red like a tomato when Y/n wrote it. “I cannot believe you wrote that!”

“You love it, don’t lie.”

She really did though. It was a catchy beat and of course it made her heart skip that Y/n’s work was influenced by her and their relationship. It only made her love him more.

“Stained coffee cup. Just a fingertip of lipstick’s not enough. Sweet (ooh), where you lay (ooh). Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case.”

The audience of his shows would be in a frenzy. Nott a single person was not on their feet belting out the lyrics to the chorus. And Natasha was at the center with the most energy.

“Waking up. Beside you, I’m a loaded gun. I can’t contain this anymore. I’m all yours, I’ve got no control. No control! Powerless, and I don’t care, It’s obvious. I just can’t get enough of you. The pedal’s down, my eyes are closed. No control!”

Birthdays and holidays passed and before they knew it they were ringing in 2023. It wasn’t just a celebration of the new year and the release of Y/n’s single ‘Beggin’’, but also what the future would hold for him and Natasha after the rockstar got down on one knee and presented the love of his life with a gorgeous ring, “Baby, you know I’m not one to believe in superstition where fate works in mysterious ways. But when I look at how life took us apart only to bring us together, I can’t help but wonder if it truly exists. Fans like to call us ‘twin flames’ and honestly I think they’re on to something. Natasha, you’re my best friend. My one true love. The person I was meant to be with. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

They announced their engagement just before the Grammy awards. All over the news the story was being covered, fans buzzing with excitement for the couple.

@ badboy_Y/n: My favorites are engaged!!! Natasha’s ring is so beautiful omg I can’t wait to see the wedding!

@ onmykneesforyou: Natasha and Y/n are the reason I believe in love honestly—I’ll ascend to heaven if they ever break up.

@ SelenaGomez✔️: congratulations to my lovely friends @badboyY/n and @IAmPhoenix on their engagement! So so happy for you two!

@ MTV✔️: Stop my parents are getting married. I am screaming right now!

The night of the Grammy’s Y/n was filled with nerves. He usually was when it came to award shows, however this was different because he was up for Record of The Year, Song of The Year, and Album of the Year with a performance with the iconic Red Hot Chili Peppers. Thankfully Natasha was there to help ease it. She hadn’t attended many since their relationship started due to her job, but the ones she did made it a hell of a lot easier for the rockstar. Getting the red carpet and interviews out of the way, the two made their way inside. There they greeted several of Y/n’s friends and took pictures with celebs they admired. Nat had to hold back fangirling a bit when Ariana Grande and The Weekend approached.

“You look amazing!” Ariana gushed, taking in the stunning outfit Nat wore. “It’s so nice to finally meet you—I love your weekly newsletter you do about all the books you’ve read and places you’ve visited. I think it’s so cool what you do.”

Nat struggled to get words out. Here was THE Ariana Grande, world renowned popstar complimenting her and saying what she did was cool.

They took pictures with Ariana hoping to catch her at the after party before it was time for everyone to take their seats. The whole time Y/n held Nat’s hand or placed his on her thigh, only letting go when it was time to clap. Physical touch was his love language and it never failed to make Natasha feel loved and appreciated.

When it came time for Y/n to perform Beggin’ with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Natasha was on her feet and dancing like she was the only one in the room. Hell, even Taylor Swift, Lizzo, and Harry Styles were dancing with her. “That’s my man!!” She yelled over the cheers when Y/n finished, blowing a kiss when they made eye contact. “I love you!!”

About two hours into the show, it finally came time for the big three.

Y/n cheered when Lizzo won Record of the Year….and about shit his pants when his name was called for Song of The Year.

“Wait, what?” He literally said as Nat jumped up from her seat with a scream, pulling him up to embrace. “Did—did he just say—.”

“You baby! You!”

Artists around him were on their feet, Harry Styles whistling against the uproar of the crows. His heart was racing and tears threatened to fall. It felt like a haze for the rockstar, a slight tremor in his hands as he took the award being handed to him. Then when he faced the crowd he was met with a standing ovation. Fucking Beyoncé was applauding with a grin. Y/n was absolutely speechless at the realization.

For the first time in nine nominations, he finally had a Grammy.

“Holy shit,” were his immediate words. “Wow.” People were still screaming so Y/n took the time to connect eyes with Natasha. She was in visible joy, wiping away a stray tear before clasping her hands together in front of her mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say. I’ve been dreaming about this moment for years it seems like—a-and I didn’t really think it was possible,” he paused briefly to glance at the trophy. “First I want to thank the Recording Academy for this honor. To everyone at Def Jam Records and those who’ve been with me since the start of my career—I can’t thank you enough. Shoutout to you Alan if you’re watching. You are the reason I’m standing on this stage—thank you for believing in me and to Dale for giving me the opportunity to share my music with the world. To my family back home and my friends, your support through the years is what’s kept me going.” Y/n smiled, thinking about Rooster and the guys, wishing he could see their reaction.

“And lastly, to the woman who’s my partner in crime. My muse. My best friend since ten years old and the love of my life. Natasha,” he connects eyes with her teary face, noticing how a cameraman had moved closer to her. “I love you so much. Thank you for your love and support. For believing in me and being my shoulder to cry on when the days get tough. You are everything a man could ask for and I’m so blessed to have the honor of being your fiancé. I can’t wait to marry you and see where life takes us. This award is for you, baby.”

Blowing a kiss to Nat, who blows one back, Y/n quickly ends with, “Thank you to everyone here tonight and at home who’s listened to my music and played ‘Beggin’’. Much love to you all—thank you thank you!” He finished just in time when the band started to play to signal his time was up. Y/n was met with open arms from Natasha when he returned to his seat, the rockstar lifting her in the air causing her to burst into giggles.

“Congratulations, baby,” she kissed him on the lips, careful not to ruin his lipstick. “I’m so proud of you—you deserve everything, Y/n.”

“Thank you, my love,” he kisses her again, then gives a wink. “Can’t wait for us to celebrate tonight.” He smirks at the blush that takes over her face.

Together they cheered for Harry after he won Album of the Year and after one last performance the show came to an end. Y/n, Harry, and Lizzo all posed for pictures and Y/n was hauled away for more interviews post ceremony. Finally they were set free to the after party, where the two basically stole the spotlight.

Dancing to the previous year’s hits and songs of the nominees, Natasha and Y/n partied like they were young and wild and free. They did shots with Adele, danced with Ariana Grande, sang with Lil Nas X. It was the time of their lives.

When it all ended Y/n escorted Nat to their ride, her right hand in his left while his right carried her heels, the two giggling like children as they ran down the hallway. Before they exited the venue Y/n brought Nat into a passionate kiss, dipping her slightly causing her to laugh. “I love you, Natasha. So much, you know?” His tone was filled with so much love it nearly took her breath away.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

Yeah fate was something not everyone could agree with. But one thing was for sure when it came to Y/n and Natasha. Like the Phoenix, their love rose from the ashes.

……………..

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black

[rebelliousstories]

Am I going to do Ficmas this year even though I never finished it last year?

Yes.

Am I going to release the unfulfilled Ficmas prompts leading up to Ficmas 2023 to make up for it?

Also yes.

[decadentworld]

“Show me your safe sign.”

Bradley snaps the fingers of his right hand twice, more easily than he imagined he’d have to try, given the position his arms are currently in. He looks up at you from the floor. His tongue already feels like cotton within his mouth, so he’s glad you’ve both settled on something that won’t require him to speak to stop if he wants to.

Not that he’ll be able to speak much with what’s about to happen anyway.

“Good boy.”

This is a small part of a bigger fic I haven’t started writing yet. I’ll probably revamp these illustrations with a more realistic style when I do. I just needed to get it out of my system lol.

[licensedqueerio]

WHERE are all the Top Gun/Top Gun Maverick x male reader fics. Someone pls send me some, I Am Suffering and am about to take things into my own hands man.

(if anyone has any ideas feel free to send me them, I wanna write for these guys)

[oweninadaydream]

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 || 𝐂𝐇.𝟏

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Hangman is the certified ladies' man and everyone thinks they can read him like a book, but what neither the Dagger Squad nor anyone else can even begin to imagine is where the hell Jake has been going every Saturday night for the last few months…

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x male!character

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 : mentions of alcohol, some making out but nothing too smutty, emotional distress lmao, age gap relationship (27-35), some religious trauma, self-deprecating thoughts, post Top Gun : Maverick, the Dagger squad is stationed together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2k

𝐚/𝐧 : Gif by @tay-swifts , M/N (Male Name). Hello beautiful people!!! I'm so exited about posting this project I've been working on for a while. I just wanted to say that since it's my first time writing for Jake this might be a bit OC Jake but I do hope I got it right hehe. Enjoy the fic and stay tuned for the next parts!!! (Edit : part 2 posted!)

It was well after midnight when Jake arrived at the club’s entrance. The throbbing bass emanating from inside made the whole building shake, making his mind wonder what it would be like to live on top of such an obnoxiously loud place, contrasting with the quietness of the accommodations the Navy offered. The reflection of the neon sign reading  “Mon Ange” turned his natural olive-toned skin into a vivid dark azure that matched perfectly with the baby blue in his eyes. The smokers (all with stamps on their hands) were all gathered some feet away from the door to get back in after dragging a final puff from their cigarettes. The queue was not very long, mainly because everyone who was meant to be there had arrived way earlier than him. He reprimanded himself for getting there so late ; in less than two hours the nightclub would shut its doors and Jake would feel like he wasted four hours of his life for nothing. Well, his journey would not be in vain if he caught a glimpse of- 

“Jake”

This was L.A, a city 118 miles away from the Marine Corps Air Station located in Miramar, which is a two-hour long drive away from everything he knows. He had to remind himself of those facts to avoid spiraling  at the sound of his name in such a place; he hated how his body kept reacting to these kinds of situations, but not even a skilled lieutenant like himself could take the reins of these unnamed emotions that coursed through his entire being.

"What are you doing here by the door? I was worrying about you not showing up today, I was just about to send a search party. C'mon , let's grab a drink. Perhaps I can even convince you to dance this time" A wide playful smirk accompanied the flirty comment exquisitely and, even though Jake was more than used to these antics, his heart skipped a beat. Trying to compose himself, he answered while staring at the concrete floor. 

"I don't belong on that dance floor and y'know it, darlin' "

“Oh don’t say that, the 30s are the new 20s! … Even if you’re not planning to dance, you must’ve driven all the way over here for something, right?”

The damn question hit him like a truck. He could try to think of the right answer, but putting something into words made it terrifyingly real, and that was exactly what he'd been avoiding for months. The breeze made them both shiver, as the party outfits didn’t properly protect them from the chilly weather. 

“You're right” he muttered “Okay, lead the way. Make it worth the while, mh?" he teasingly replied. Even if what he was doing was definitely outside of his comfort zone, something about the constant banter between them calmed him.

"Don't you always have an amazing time with me? I thought that was why you only talk to me" a fake pout appeared on the face which Seresin couldn't help but to stare intensely in awe. Their hands intertwined and the pilot quickly melted into that comforting touch. His companion briefly exchanged some words with the bouncer and the doors opened for them. 

"Thankfully it was Joseph working tonight, I don't think Marcus would have let you in for free just like that" “I’m sure you would've charmed him into doing whatever you wanted anyway”

The thick air of the room embraced him as soon as the doors closed and the familiar feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach almost instantly; it seems like it was yesterday when he first stepped into the nightclub he now knows like the back of his hand, but in reality, that day was what it feels like ages ago. Still, the contradictions that manifested within him every time he returned persisted and only grew each day.

“I’ll go to the bar while you stay here and look pretty, okay? Same drink as always?”

It was because of moments like these that Hangman felt comfortable enough to let his guard down and be his usual extroverted self. Grabbing his wrist to stop him from going any further, he raised his voice so his words could be heard even though the music was top volume. “ Don’t you even dare to try to pay for those drinks, they’re on me.”

“Here it is, the Texan charm of Jake Seresin. I didn’t know you could apply those rules to this situation. Are you trying to imply I’m the girl in this whole affair? Shouldn't we at least draw lots for it?”

"Very funny, M/N'' the hostility that emanated from his rolling eyes made the other man realize his comment had affected Jake on a deeper level than intended. “Hey I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t hav- I know it’s  a touchy subject and I’m extremely sorry, please forgive me” the regret was visible in his expression and it also could be detected in the stuttering caused by the words rushing their way out of his mouth trying to obtain his forgiveness as fast as possible. Jake took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second. 

Hangman was no saint, he didn’t go to church every Sunday or tried to look for a good christian wife to have kids with like his father did in his day. He knew God was not exactly pleased with the way he was running his life but he used to think that when the time came, He would welcome him with open arms (after having apologized profusely, that is). But now that he had fallen for the most vile trick in the book, he couldn't trust that previous statement anymore. Lust was a capital sin, pretty serious if you asked any priest from the church the Seresin family attended back in Texas, but sodomy? Say goodbye to eternal salvation, son. If Jake was being honest, the promise of heaven or the threat of hell didn't scare him. It was the destruction of all the life lessons that made him act the way he acted,  of his purpose as a son, as a man. The thing that truly haunted him at night  was the thought of a deity (and his father)  designing him to be this flawless individual with a very clear life path , only to end up as a filthy, disgusting f-

“Hey, are you okay? Would you like me to leave you alone for a bit?”

The thought of M/N walking away while he sank deeper and deeper in the sea of guilt and fury frightened him. “Please don’t” he begged “everything’s fine, I promise. Let’s down a couple shots and , who knows, maybe I’ll be in the mood to dance for a bit” the last comment was a futile attempt to hide the everlasting agony that clouded his mind. M/N moved so they were a few inches away and raised his hand to caress his cheek. His next step consisted in resting his arms around his shoulders and starting kissing him delicately in the neck and in the whole face in general, in hopes to kiss the discomfort away. 

How could something so delicate and sweet be so dirty? Was it even dirty to begin with? What about the women he had dated? He was attracted to them but now he- Too many questions Jake was not willing to answer that night. He only wanted one thing, and he was about to claim it. 

After regaining control of himself, Jake put his right hand on the younger male’s back to guide him to the counter where people were piling up fighting to get the barman’s attention. Being as attractive and well-built as he was, he obtained the alcoholic beverages rather quickly. After the last drop of tequila had made its way down their throats, Hangman took control and led him onto the dance floor. His mind was only filled of the smell of M/N’s cologne mixed with his natural scent enhanced by their bodies crashing against each other while swaying to the 2000s pop remixes, his eyes fixed on his partner’s hypnotizing movements and his hands focused on feeling what they can reach, testing if they can go further in their journey through M/N’s body. Jake was simply standing close and moving according to the song's beat but in a subtle way, just like he would do at the locals he frequented with his coworkers ; manly enough to keep his dignity intact but provocative enough to awake that lustful hunger in the other person’s soul.

‘Mon Ange’ had finally closed down and the two men were still all over each other on the angelino streets. The tingle settling in his chest could only be compared with the adrenaline rush he had previously experienced on those wild nights spent in college, the farewell by the porch of the first girl he had taken on a date or the night out after his first deployment; if he closed his eyes he could swear he was 20 again, but reality made sure to remind him of those fifteen more years that had passed. 

M/N had this juvenile thing about him, Jake couldn’t guess confidently his age from afar and his curiosity was finally satiated after befriending him and asking him about it directly ; he was 27, even though he looked some years younger. His bold character combined with his kindness and humor made M/N resemble a butterfly flying around collecting the pollen from every flower in the garden and making it seem effortless. That was one of the many things that hooked Jake on him as if he were the most addicting drug out there, making him throw away his plan of not getting attached and limiting this experience with sporadic hookups that would end then and there, never with the same person twice. That was the problem, he appeared and started moving his hips to some song, making the whole room turn around him and ever since then (even if Jake was still in denial), he was a goner.

The next thing he knew, he was laying down on M/N’s bed, a king size mattress close to a very big window that allowed him to take in the beautiful sight of the sleeping city. He had only been to the apartment twice, but he had always  left before the sun had made its appearance in the sky, moved by remorse and skepticism. This time though, he had stayed the whole night that was filled with passionate sex and heart to heart conversations and finally some cuddling that lured him to rest for a while. Now he was wide awake, sitting against the headboard, resting his eyes on the sunrise and on the slumbering figure facing him. He looked so calm, so peaceful. In that moment, turning his gaze away, he tried to repress a sob that came with a single tear falling through his left cheek. 

M/N had always known he was queer, embracing his bisexuality in childhood. Jake had never had any problems with people who were not straight, even if the people around him growing up did, but everything was different when it came to himself. For fuck’s sake, he was closer to being 40 than from his teenage years, what was he doing? He could only paralyze at the idea of anyone seeing what he was doing. It was definitely too late for him. Risking his life everyday up in the sky felt like a minor burden compared to the endurance of the dilemmas he carried with him everywhere, just like Christ had carried the cross all the way to Calvary.

He could feel himself falling for the person right next to him, and that was the worst thing that had ever happened to Lieutenant Jacob Seresin. His calloused hand cupped M/N’s soft face, making the other man lean in closer in search of that delightful warmth. Jake’s lips burned in desperate need to say something out loud. His heart started palpitating at a dangerous speed, as he knew the thing trying to escape from his mind was a cruel thing to say and that he was a horrible being just by thinking that. It was no one’s fault and it had no solution, yet the idea popped up in his mind like an unwanted ad appearing on your phone. His chest ached at the possibility of M/N hearing the words, so he tried to whisper as quietly as it was humanly possible. 

“I wish you were a girl”

[gaycragula]

how niche would it be if i wanted to write for surfs up

[aliorsboxostuff]

bob Floyd x male reader who is quiet and intimidating, only to silently become a guard dog to him

idk I haven't slept, hope this makes sense

OOOOOH THIS TURNED OUT SO NICE TBH I love grumpy x sunshine sm :(( it's such a cute trope uGHHH and writing this was such a trip lmao I loved how it turned out tbh thanks so much for the idea!! so I hope you all do too!

Note: Reader is regarded as Panther for his callsign. The fic is in a 3rd POV.

Stone-Cold

Tags: Robert Floyd/Male Reader, Bob x Male-aviator!Reader, sunshine x grumpy!!, Robert Floyd, Natasha Trace, Bradley Bradshaw, Jake Seresin, Halo, Fritz, Yale, Rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick, Iceman, Penny, Meet-cute, First meeting, Fluff, Implied smut, kissing, making out, getting together, separation, slight angst, time skips, NOT TOO MUCH THO!, No use of Y/N, slight OOC, Background Icemav, Background Sereshaw, Background relationships, i don't know shit about fighter pilots, only did small research lmao

Bob met Panther, a dark-eyed individual who never even glanced in his direction. But that soon changes when he finally gains his friendship and the two hit it off, flying through a healthy relationship, a falling out, and a reunion. 

—

The first time Bob met Panther was in basics. Panther stood a foot taller than him, with dark eyes that were only focused on the board whenever they were in class. Due to his height, Panther was situated in the back, just two rows behind where Bob usually sits. A suffocating dark air seems to always follow the man, making his classmates, including Bob, avoid him most of the time. It doesn't help that the man barely talks, it's a miracle they even knew his Callsign. 

They say he got it after someone from his old crew saw him in the middle of the night, outside of the building, with glowing golden eyes. Paired with his big build, Bob hopes the Callsign story is nothing but a rumor of some drunken crew that stumbled his way and saw Panther that night. 

It was a usual Wednesday. His class has departed to spend their lunchtime while Bob makes his way to the cafeteria, reviewing the lesson plan inside his head. While he was too engrossed in his little ramblings, he hadn't realized he bumped into someone waiting in the line in front of him. Bob immediately stops and rubs his nose which took the burn of the bump. 

“Sorry!” He quickly musters, realizing he had to incline his head in order to meet the person's eyes, and much to his surprise, it was Panther. The man raised a brow and fixed Bob with a stare that made the shorter pilot gulp. Suddenly, Panther shrugs and turns back around, as if to brush off an insignificant bug. Now that is a treatment Bob is familiar with, so he’s back to looking down into his binder while waiting for his turn.

After obtaining his lunch, he looks around for his usual table, on the far end of the large room. He smiles to himself as he spots it vacant and makes his way to his place. As he sets his tray down, a similar noise follows. Bob raises his head to find Panther, he was the one placing his tray in front of Bob. His eyes widen, panic settling in before he hears the tall man in front of him speak. “Is… this seat taken?”

To hear Panther's voice was a rarity, the man only spoke in class if their instructor specifically asked him to answer. He sounded… Timid—Far from what Bob’s expectation was. The brunette stumbles on his words, finding his voice to answer the man in front of him. 

“N-no, go ahead,” Bob manages a welcoming smile, well, he hopes it was welcoming. Panther nods, and takes his seat and so does Bob. He puts aside his binders and readjusts his glasses, a nervous habit. He finds himself looking at his tray of food, then back to his books, then to the blank table. Bob doesn't know what to do with his hands. Awkwardness surrounds both of them.

“I see you took notes of today's class,” Panther was the one who broke it. 

Bob perks, before he sheepishly nods. “Yeah its, uh- good for review,”

“Do you think… You can explain some stuff to me? I didn't really catch today's lesson…” The taller man looks to his side, then scratches the back of his neck. Behind his glasses, Bob’s eyes lit up, before he smiled and nodded, his hands already on their way to open one of his many binders.

That was the start of Bob's and Panther's friendship. He admits, he never had the best experience with his peers. Most of the time he’s left alone or is only noticed whenever they have a question, no one ever truly became close with Bob. No one’s ever picked on him, that would be childish, but then again—If you pile some humans filled with testosterone in one shower room, there's bound to be some name-calling or stink eyes. Bob has had his fair share of it, never taken it to heart, even if some days it hurts more than it looks. 

But ever since Panther spends his lunch with Bob, the other guys have chosen to leave him alone, even in the shower rooms. No one ever laughed behind his back again, those whispers whenever he was in class or passing by has also disappeared. Panther has spent the better half of his day sticking to Bob, being by his side, going where Bob is going, and only separates when they have different schedules or if he was waiting for his own turn in the rec room while Bob is in training. 

It’s been a couple of months since their initial meeting now. Bob and Panther are well into their flight training program, and are currently leading in their class grade. Two of the best in their class, with Bob having a couple of scores above Panther. 

The clock barely touched 8 PM. Panther was lounging about in Bob’s room, with his roommate being somewhere in the city, no doubt getting drunk between girls, Panther was free to roam in his best friend's room. Bob is currently on his bed, reading something from a textbook while Panther was doing nothing in particular on the floor, his long limbs strewn about. The only thing illuminating the room is the stripes of moonlight and the dim light of Bob's bedside lamp. 

“Hey Bob,” Panther calls from the floor. Bob hums. “Ever thought of getting into Top Gun?” 

Bob tilts his head slightly. He closes the textbook, putting his glasses aside before leaning on the edge of his mattress. “Maybe. Why?”

“Nah, just thought if you wanted to, you could,” Panther grins up to a confused Bob.

“What's that supposed to mean?” The brunette smiles, strands of his fringe falling into his eyes. 

“You’re smart. Smarter than all of us in class, not to mention you’re a half-decent pilot,” Bob chuckles at that, now fully leaning down to meet his friend's eyes. Panther smiles up at him. “I think you’d make it into Top Gun.”

While Bob doesn't have his glasses on, Panther's smile is just as warm, feeling it seeping into his skin. “You smile more around me,” 

Panther’s smile faltered slightly, before he suddenly sat up, supported by his arms behind him, and then they were inches apart. Bob’s eyes widen, finding how close his friend is sitting, he can practically breathe him in. The brunette blinks, swallowing a lump. “That day, the first time we talked, why did you choose to sit with me?”

Panther’s lips are parted slightly. “I just… I knew you weren't as shit as the others,” 

Bob huffs a laugh and Panther mimics it. “Really?” 

“Yeah, plus…” Panther leans closer, his voice drops into a whisper. “You were the only one worth talking to,” 

It happened so slowly. Bob closes his eyes before he feels the man's lips on his, trusting himself wholly to Panther. He feels himself being pushed, his hands scrambling to wrap around Panther's shoulders before he pushes Bob onto the bed and he climbs in himself, lips never parting. He presses and presses, until Bob's lips part and he feels Panther's tongue slips in, which makes Bob groan between their breath and pants. Bob finds himself laid beneath Panther, feeling his friend's hair between his fingers, the solid weight on top of him calms his pestering anxiety. He’s shared a kiss or two, and dated some girls and one boy, but has never gone as far as making out. But despite it all, Panther's mere existence on top of him, caging him in, soothes his worries, and is willing to follow Panther into the long night.

He’s lucky his roommate came back late because he had to kiss Panther goodbye as he sneaked back into his room, not before he heard the man groan from outside his doors; something about his roommate asking questions about last night, which made Bob laugh. 

Before Panther left, they had woken up in each other's arms, Bob had the best sleep he’s had in years. Panther was playing with Bob’s curly morning hair, before the more petite man groans and reaches numbly for his glasses, at which Panther laughs and hands it to him. Once he situated his glasses, he finds himself looking at the man on top of him, a soft smile between those addicted lips. “Morning,” He said.

“Mornin’” Bob drawls, turning to face Panther. He smiles, before pressing a kiss to Bob's temple, which Bob closes his eyes upon feeling it. Instead of pulling back, Panther stays there.

“I hope this isn't a one-time thing,” He mumbles into Bob's curls. The brunette blinks, before he pulls back to meet Panther's eyes. 

“It isn't.” So serious, so sure of his words. Bob was famous for his hesitation, for his timidness in front of his peers, but this. This, he’s confident about. 

Pather’s blank stare breaks into a smile, before he dives back in and smothers Bob with kisses, pulling him right back into his arms, and they spend the rest of the dawn just like that. 

—

Bob graduated on top of his class. Pather follows just behind him, but despite it, they’re both worthy of their wings of gold. 

After their graduation ceremony, after the pictures and congratulations from instructors and family members, and awkwardly meeting Bob’s cheerful parents and myriads of siblings, after meeting Panther's own family, the two finally manage to sneak away. Panther pulls Bob into the back of his Land Rover, the shorter male giggling as his boyfriend smothers him in kisses.

“I’m so proud of you,” Panther smiles, pulling back from his grinning boyfriend. Bob's glasses are askew, a wide smile on his lips. He can feel himself blushing, the steady heat spreading through his cheeks, which makes Panther lean back in to kiss him again. 

They both ended up in the back seat of Panthers Rover, entwined with each other, breathing in lungfuls, a smile on both of their lips. Bob leans to bury himself deeper into Panther's chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his fingertips. Panther hums, his arm pulling Bob closer. His other hand examines the small wing, it reflects the night's shine. 

“What now?” Panther sighs, pocketing the golden wings then turns to his boyfriend. Bob's brown eyes shine with the moonlight. 

“I don't know,” The brunette looks out of the car’s window. “Get assigned a squadron,” 

It would be the next step in their career. Panther has learned that Bob would be aiming to get into Top Gun, and he would be following Bob if he could, always one step behind him. 

Panther turns to face Bob, the aviator picking at his finger. He slowly entwines his fingers with Bob’s, making him glance up to meet Panther's eyes. The taller male softly smiles, moving a stray hair from Bob's eyes. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,”

—

Two weeks after their Uranium mission, the crew has decided to hang out in the Hard Deck before some of them get shipped out into another deployment. Rooster was busy with Hangman, the two have been getting along ever since Hangman saved Rooster and Mav’s lives. They hung at one of the back tables of the Hard Deck, a bottle of beer in each other's hand. They’re standing awfully close, which makes Phoenix raise a brow.

“Let’s hope they don't break each other's heart again,” Bob snickers, picking at his cashews. 

“You don't want to take care of Roo?” 

“God no, you're lucky you weren't there for the first time,” Phoenix’s face scrunches in disgust, which makes Bob laugh. The WSO has been sticking with his pilot for most of their leisure time, mostly because he didn't know where else to go. Bob supposed he’ll follow where his next mission took him, or hope Cyclone is merciful and put him and Phoenix on the same crew. 

Coyote and Payback are playing pool, along with the others, sometimes cheering one of them on or laughing at a joke or quip the group would say. Maverick said he couldn't join the crew, something about spending his day with Iceman, which they all completely understood and cheered in their group chat. It's a particularly slow day for the Hard Deck, not a lot of patrons on this sunny Wednesday. Penny was conversing with another patron, and overall calming noon washing over Fightertown. 

The doors of Hard Deck chimes open. Bob and Phoenix are engrossed in their conversation, and despite standing on the other side of the bar, they did not recognize the customer that came in. A tall man on his peripherals is the only thing Bob notices before Phee makes him laugh and he’s back to ducking. 

“Hey there, I'm looking for a Bob Floyd?” 

The familiar voice almost gave Bob whiplash as he turned his head. And he thought he'd lost him…

“Panther?” 

The man in question walks past the bar and finds the familiar and comforting blue of Bob’s eyes. The pilot stands from his stool, taking shaky steps toward Panther. 

The last Bob ever heard of Panther was years ago, before his first deployment as they were assigned their own squadron. Bob was devastated that he wouldn't be getting the same squadron as Panther did, but with reassuring parting words, Panther promised the younger pilot that they’d meet again, one way or another. Since then, Bob has been moving from one deployment to another, meeting new people and squadrons, and experiencing different pain and happiness in his life. He got into the Top Gun program, and he met his current friends. He met Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy and the others, but despite it all he had hoped to somehow see Panther again. 

He never considered the man to find him.

“Hey,” Panther's smile is just as blinding as he remembers it. He gives Bob a once over, spotting the outfit Bob is wearing, before he chuckles. “Never changed, huh?”

Bob follows his laugh, finding the courage to reach out to hold Panther's wrist, which makes a steady blush rise to his cheeks. Panthers laugh stutters before he clears his throat and scratches at the back of his neck.

“And you never changed too,” Panther's eyes widen a bit, before he breaks into a smile, which makes Bob grin. He brings himself to stand closer to Panther, having to crane his neck to meet the man's eyes. 

“How did…” Bob's question falters, but luckily still understood Panther.

“I found you? Well, word travels fast when you are on the same mission as Captain Maverick,” Panther smirks. Bob laughs, realizing the recent fame the crew got ever since they spent their time with Mav. If you were taught by the legendary Maverick and were on a successful mission alongside him, the story definitely travels fast.

Though, Bob's brow furrows again. “But how did you know I was here?”

“I have my sources,” Panther shrugs, making Bob pat his arm. He's still supporting those muscles that made Bob’s head spin. Bob blinks, trying to hide away his blush by suddenly pulling Panther into a hug, which makes the man laugh and wrap his arms around the shorter pilot. Panther shakes from the laughter as he rests his chin on Bob's head. Bob melts at the sound of the familiar heartbeat, the warmth Panther exudes. 

The two move apart when they suddenly hear the sound of clapping, only to find Hangman walking towards them. “Is that the Panther I see?”

Bob tilts his head, before he feels himself being shifted to stand beside the taller man. “Hangman,” 

His jaw slackens. He has never seen Panther revert back to the stone-cold gaze he once wore back in basics, not even when Bob made a mistake that Panther rightfully got angry about. Yet, right now, he has that exact face while facing Hangman. 

“I never thought I’d see the day when you're back in Fightertown,”

“Never thought I'd see your douchey-ass here again,” Panther retorts. He stands much taller than Jake, though he still has his bite despite the height difference, seemingly unbothered. Jake leans over to look behind Panther's broad shoulders, finding a confused Bob. 

“You knew him?” Jake smirks.

“We were in basics together,” Bob nods, his hand slowly reaching for Panther's arm, patting it softly. “He’s my friend,” 

Panther takes a breath, before sighing and moving aside, turning towards Bob with a frown. “Sorry, my bad,”

“It’s alright, I'm fine, Panther,” Bob smiles, pushing stray strands behind Panther's ear affectionately. 

Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the crew, including Jake, is currently looking at the two with wide eyes and jaws on the floor. Bob wasn't particularly open to touch, in fact—The only people that ever hugged him were the selected few in the Dagger Squad. Phoenix was normally seen with him, and even then she kept her distance with the backseater. And to the extent of Hangman's knowledge, the Panther he knew back in his Fighter Squadron days was a reserved and quiet guy, mostly intimidating with his height and build, but usually kept it to himself.  To see the usually scary man being so touchy with a usually not touchy-feely guy is, to say the least, odd. 

The two spent the rest of the day catching up. Bob has learned that Panther took a different route than aiming for Top Gun, and instead got deployed at some places to teach classes, the main reason why he hasn't been able to visit Fightertown. He also learned the second that he got a whiff of information that a squadron, led by Maverick, has done a successful mission and is still in Miramar, Panther booked the first flight to San Diego. He wasn't expecting to find Bob, he was hoping. 

Panther ended up listening to everything his friend dumped on him. He knows Bob doesn't easily talk, only in short replies, so he’s happy to find him still so accepting to share his life with Panther. He learns about the Dagger Squad, how he's apparently close with Maverick now, and his experience throughout the death-defying mission. Panther, regardless of it all, was glad he had Bob in one piece instead of being invited to the aviator's honorable funeral. He’s proud to hear Bob making new friends, meeting new people, and is especially interested in meeting Phoenix. 

“Oh wait, let me use the toilet, be back in a bit,” Panther places his Whiskey down, patting Bob's back as he heads to the toilets.

Phoenix immediately corners her WSO, sliding up next to him. She stares him down, bewildering Bob. “Who’s that guy and what's his deal?” 

Bob takes a second to blink. “Im- Panthers my friend,”

“He seems more than a friend, Bob,” He knew he was safe with Phoenix. He knew he was safe with everyone, because they aren't like the old folks who glare at any two guys standing too close for comfort. Hell, they have Rooster and Hangman who are currently dancing around each other. But for Bob to tell Pheonix his ‘once boyfriend’ was a bit challenging for him. But he trusts her, and she worries for him. 

“He’s my… Old Boyfriend? We never broke up, but-”

“He left you?”

“No! Phee please,” Bob sighs, readjusting his glasses. “ We got different squadrons and went our separate ways, honestly, it's a miracle he ever found me,” 

The aviator looks down at his glass, the water reflecting his longing gaze. Bob smiles. “I never stopped loving him,” 

Phoenix leans back, away from her backseater. Her eyes find the deep pools of Bob’s blues, having known him well enough to see past his usual awkward demeanor. The pilot huffs, before she looks past Bob and then stands. “I’m sure he feels the same,” 

She passes Bob then, not before patting his shoulder, then walking away. Panther passes by the pilot, the shorter lady giving him a knowing look which makes Panther's brows crease, but he takes his seat again, already turning to face Bob. 

“That’s Phoenix?” 

“Heh, yeah,” Bob answers into his glass as he sips. Panthers swivel back around, finding Phoenix next to Hangman and an unknown man who supports a great porn stache. Panther manages a small smile, to which Phoenix responds with a nod. 

“I like her,” Bob laughs.

—

It was well over closing hour when Penny finally pushed the crew out of the Hard Deck door, saying something about reporting them to Maverick if she had to, which made all of the squad rush out and into San Diego’s cool evening. 

Some piled into Fitz’s car, Halo went with Phoenix on her bike, Hangman is already in Roosters Bronco, which left Bob alone with Panther. The two stay on the bar's porch, watching their friends stumble into their respectful vehicle. Bob spotted the guys fighting over who drives Fitz’s car even though the only sober one was Yale at that point, which made him laugh. Halo was already clinging to a sober Phoenix, clearly babbling about something. 

Throughout the night, Panther has gotten into conversations with the squad. Hangman even offered him a match at pool, which he demolished, leaving Jake to wallow his way to Rooster, so he learned the name of the pilot with the sick stache. Panther felt welcomed amongst them, their sense of family palpable. He finds himself smiling most of the time, which freaked Jake out. And it seems they're on a first-name basis now, which Bob greatly appreciates. 

They watch as their friends pull out of the parking lot, some blasting music, others oddly calm which bothered Bob. He hopes Rooster won't actually break Jake. 

After the dust has settled and their rear lights are far off into the distance, Bob releases a sigh, smiling to himself.

“So, Bob,” Panther turns to him, making Bob tilt his head to match. “I have my Range Rover,” 

“Still the same old?” 

“The one my aunt gifted me, yeah,” Panther laughs, which makes Bob grins. He suddenly grew quiet, looking down into Miramar’s sand instead of meeting Bob. The shorter man furrows his brow, something churns in his gut. Before Panther opens his mouth, Bob beats him to it.

“I don't-” Bob takes a breath. “...What are we?” 

At that, Panther smiles easily. He reaches for Bob's hand, holding them, drawing small circles on the back of the pilot's hands. “I’m your boyfriend, if you’ll take me,” 

Then he brings Bob’s chin close, pressing his lips against him, and it’s back to basics. Back to the old dorms where Bob felt a surge of euphoria. Where he could finally let his walls be undone by the man he trusted the most. He’s missed this. Missed the easy slide of their lips, the comforting scent of Panther, the way his hand slots between the man's broad chest, how Panther pulls him closer by his hips and suddenly he’s weightless. Bob smiles into their kiss, happy to finally regain his spot between Panther's arms. 

Requests are opened! Reminder to reblog!

[cowboybeepboop]

Addicted

"But you're different. You've got me on my damn knees here, and I don't even care."

“On your knees? Now that's something I’d like to see.”

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut, romantic

Word count: 5.4k

Summary: A one night stand with Hangman leaves him desperate and begging for more.

Warnings: Public sex, making Jake beg, p in v sex, riding him, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex.

a/n: Not really much to say other than I hope you enjoy <3 Also send any requests my way, could be for anything :)

The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the airstrip as the jets roared by, their engines a deafening symphony that seemed to shake the very earth beneath your feet. You had always loved this time of day, the way the light painted everything in hues of gold and red, making even the most mundane tasks feel like a scene from a Hollywood blockbuster. But today, the sight of the planes brought with it a feeling of anxiety rather than excitement. Training with Maverick was intense, and as one of the few women in the program, you knew you had to be twice as good to be considered half as good.

The bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where pilots went to unwind after a long day of pushing the limits of gravity. You scanned the room, spotting the familiar faces of your colleagues, all of them men. The only other woman present was Nat, known as Phoenix, a fellow Top Gun graduate who had become your closest ally in this male-dominated world. She sat at the bar, her eyes lighting up as she saw you, offering a nod that seemed to say, "You can handle this."

Bob, with his boyish grin and easy-going demeanor, was the first to stand up and greet you. He pulled out a chair, offering it with a gallant flourish. "You're looking as sharp as ever, Y/N," he said, his voice carrying a hint of admiration that made your cheeks warm. You sat down, grateful for the respite from the catcalls and lewd comments that had been thrown your way since you walked in.

As you chatted with Bob and Phoenix, you couldn't help but notice the blond man across the room, his eyes locked on you like a homing missile. You had heard rumors about him—Hangman, they called him—a cocky pilot with a reputation for leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. His stare was unnerving, a silent challenge that seemed to say, "I'm going to make you mine." You ignored him, focusing on the conversation and the cold beer in your hand, but the heat of his gaze was impossible to ignore.

As you’re sitting with the two, talking, the man starts walking over towards you, coming to a stop next to Phoenix with a smirk on his handsome face. You look up at him curiously while Nat gives him a stern glare. “What do you want, Bagman?” she questions him with an accusatory tone.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, standing beside her, leaning his hip against the bar. "Can't a guy say hello without getting into trouble?" He joked, his eyes flickering over to you.

He looked you up and down slowly, a cocky grin on his lips. "I don't think we've met before." He muses, extending his hand out. "I'm Hangman, but you can call me Jake."

“I’m Y/N.” you ignore his extended hand, leaning closer to Bob to add distance between you and Hangman.

He raised an eyebrow as you ignored his hand, a smirk playing at his lips. "Playing hard to get, huh?" He teased, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's cute."

He glanced over at Bob for a moment, taking his hand back and stuffing it in his pocket. "You two a thing?" He asked casually, his eyes flickering over to you again.

Bob opens his mouth to deny being with you. “Actually, yes we are.” you grin, taking Bob’s hand in your own. Right now you were relying on him to take the hint and play along with you.

Hangman's smirk faded slightly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you and Bob holding hands. He couldn't deny that he was a little surprised, he assumed you were friends. He tried to brush it off, but a hint of jealousy stirred inside him.

Unfortunately your plan to get Hangman to back off by pretending to date Bob, was going less than swimmingly. It seems he doesn’t care whether you're already spoken for or not. The evening drags on with him still sending heated glances full of desire your way.

Eventually, you decide to call it a night, as you say your goodbyes and start to head out of the bar, Hangman's attention is immediately caught by your departure. He watches you exit, his eyes following you as you make your way to your jeep.

He debates for a moment, contemplating whether or not to follow you. His desire wins out, and he makes up his mind to follow you. He says his own goodbyes to the group and discreetly follows you outside, keeping a couple of paces behind you.

“Are you going to say something? Or are you just planning to keep following me like some creep?” you lean against the hood of your car, arms crossing under your chest, eyes narrowing at him.

Hangman freezes as you turn around and call him out. He hadn't expected you to notice him so quickly.

He smirks and steps closer, closing the distance between you both. "Just admiring the view," he drawls, his eyes roaming over your form shamelessly.

“Oh is that so?” you hum, gazing up at him with an unreadable expression.

"Absolutely." He nods and leans against the jeep beside you, standing so close that your bodies nearly touch.

He looks down at you, his eyes darkening slightly. "You and Bob, huh?" He comments casually, a hint of a taunt in his tone.

“Are you jealous?” you reply with a teasing smile.

He lets out a scoff, pretending not to be affected. "Me? Jealous? Please." He rolls his eyes, but there's a flicker of something in his gaze that gives him away.

He turns to face you fully, his arm resting on the jeep behind you, trapping you in. "I just don’t get why you're settling for Bob." He says, lowering his voice. "What's so special about him, hm?"

“I’m not *settling* for Bob,” you hop up on the car, sitting on the hood with your legs crossed. “He’s a gentleman, very sweet, and damn cute.”

Hangman's eyes flicker over your body for a moment, watching as you hop onto the hood and cross your legs.

He grumbles under his breath, slightly annoyed that you didn’t seem to get his point.

"Yeah, Yeah, he’s sweet and cute, whatever. I can be sweet and cute too, you know. Sometimes." He counters, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.

“So you are jealous.” you giggle, leaning back on your palms, uncrossing your legs. “And what makes you so special?”

He glares at you, his jealousy bubbling to the surface. "I'm Hangman, sweetheart. I’m the best, hottest, and most talented pilot there is." He says confidently, his ego on full display.

He steps even closer to you, his body slotting between your legs now. He gazes down at you, his hand resting near your hip. "I could show you a good time, unlike Bob."

You flick your tongue out, licking your bottom lip. “A good time hm?” you wrap your legs around his hips pulling him against you.

A small gasp leaves Hangman's lips as you pull him closer, his body automatically responding to your touch. He places his hands on your hips, his grip firm but not rough. He looks at you through hooded eyes, his gaze dark and full of desire.

"You have no idea." He practically growls, his body pressed against yours.

“Sounds inviting,” you murmur, with a small smirk. “But I don’t make a habit of sleeping with coworkers… especially when I have a boyfriend.” your tone is teasing.

Hangman's eyes narrow as you remind him of your supposed relationship with Bob. He leans closer, his nose nearly touching yours.

"Please," he retorts, his breath lightly tickling your skin. "We both know you're not actually dating him. I saw the way he looked at Phoenix earlier. He's got it bad for her, not you."

“While that may be true,” you let go of his waist, pushing his chest with your hand. “My point still stands. I don’t sleep with my coworkers.”

Hangman stumbles back a step, a mix of disappointment and frustration on his face. "Oh come on," he runs a hand through his hair, "We're both adults here. Don't tell me you don't feel the chemistry between us."

He steps closer to you again, his hand reaching out to gently grip your chin, tilting your head up towards him. "One night, no strings attached. It can be our little secret."

“A one night stand..” you bite down on your bottom lip, “Are you sure you’ll be able to walk away after one night?”

He chuckles, his hand moving from your chin to cup your cheek. "Sweetheart, one night with me and you'll be the one struggling to walk." He says with a cocky smirk, his tone confident and full of male arrogance.

He leans in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. "I guarantee you'll be begging for more."

“I guarantee you’ll be the one doing the begging.” your hand goes to the back of his head, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. Hangman's smug expression quickly vanishes as you pull him in, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss filled with fire and desire.

He lets out a low growl, his hands grabbing your hips and pressing you even tighter against him. He devours the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive fervor. As he finally breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy, he looks at you with feral eyes. "Don't underestimate me, sweetheart. I never beg."

“Get in the car,” you brush your hand down his chest, fingers ghosting over his erection. “Let’s go somewhere a little more comfortable.” Hangman's breath hitches as your fingers brush against his bulge, the touch sending a shiver through his body. He nods eagerly, a mix of impatience and anticipation on his face.

"Alright, alright. You lead the way." He steps back, letting you get off the hood and move around to the driver's side. He opens the passenger door and gets in, his eyes on you watching your every move.

The drive to the apartment is filled with tension, Hangman's hands occasionally drifting to your thigh or hip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

As you enter the apartment and make your way towards the bedroom, Hangman's hands remain on your waist, his grip firm and possessive. He's practically glued to your back, the scent of his cologne filling your nose.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that?" He mutters into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You turn around in his grasp, pressing a heated kiss to his lips, your own hands sliding down his body.

He groans into the kiss, his arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you as close as possible. He returns the kiss with equal fervor, his tongue exploring your mouth with a possessive intensity.

His hands roam over your body, sliding down your curves and gripping your hips. His touch is almost bruising, his need for you evident in every move he makes. He walks you backwards towards the bed, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving small kisses and bites in their wake.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, and Hangman guides you to sit down, his hands never leaving your body. He stands between your legs, looking down at you with dark, hungry eyes.

Hangman's hands, strong and insistent, began to pull away the fabric that separated your bodies, his movements quick and sure. Your shirt was the first to go, lifted over your head and tossed aside with the ease of a man used to getting what he wanted.

His eyes roamed over your bare torso, drinking in the sight of your firm breasts, the peaks of your nipples pebbled with desire. He reached for the clasp of your bra, his fingers deftly unhooking it before sliding the straps down your arms, leaving it to fall away and expose you fully to his heated gaze.

With a smirk, he went for the button of your jeans, his eyes never leaving yours. As the zipper lowered, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and tugged, pulling them down your hips and over your thighs. You helped him, lifting your legs one by one, allowing him to remove your shoes and socks as well, leaving you in only your underwear.

His own clothes followed suit, the sound of fabric rustling and buttons popping filling the room as he stripped away his shirt, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and abs. His jeans were next, the leather belt unbuckling with a snap before the denim hit the floor, leaving him in his boxers.

He stepped closer, his hands sliding up your bare legs to the band of your underwear. With a single, fluid motion, he hooked his fingers in the fabric and dragged it down, leaving you completely bare before him.

You felt a rush of cool air against your skin as he stepped back to appreciate the view, his eyes dark with lust as they traveled over your body. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him as he removed his own boxers, his erection springing free and bobbing slightly with his every movement.

Your heart raced in your chest, the anticipation of what was to come making your stomach flip-flop. His hand reached for yours, pulling you to stand and bringing your bodies flush together. His erection pressed against your stomach, hot and demanding.

You felt his breath on your neck as he kissed along your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Your hand found its way to the back of his neck, holding him closer as he continued to kiss and nibble his way down your body.

The feel of his bare chest against yours was electric, sending waves of heat through you. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You felt his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, and a moan escaped your lips as he rolled them gently, teasing and pinching just enough to make you arch into his touch.

He was methodical in his exploration, as if he were memorizing every inch of your body. With a sudden surge of confidence, you pushed him against the mattress, surprising him with your strength.

He chuckled, his eyes flashing with excitement as you slid on top of him, straddling his hips. You lined his hardness up with your wet heat, feeling the tip of him nudge against your entrance. The sensation made you gasp, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment.

Opening them again, you stared down at him, a challenge in your gaze. Without a word, you began to ride him, your hips moving in a rhythm that was both agonizingly slow and incredibly sensual.

He watched you, his eyes hooded with desire as he felt your wetness envelop him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he held on for dear life, letting you set the pace.

His breath was ragged in your ear, his voice a low murmur of encouragement as you rocked against him. You felt him swell inside you, his length filling you completely, and you knew he was close to the edge.

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, your breasts smashing against his skin. The friction was maddening, and you couldn’t help but increase your pace, chasing your own release.

His hands slid up your back, gripping your shoulders as he pulled you down for a deep, claiming kiss. His tongue danced with yours as his hips began to meet your movements, the two of you moving in perfect sync.

The bed creaked beneath you, the only sound in the room aside from the ragged breaths and soft moans that filled the space. The tension grew, a coil tightening in your stomach, signaling the approaching climax.

You felt his muscles tense underneath you, his grip on your hips tightening, and you knew he was close. You leaned back, letting him take over, his hands guiding your hips as he drove into you with a ferocity that had you seeing stars.

Each thrust was a declaration of dominance, a claim of what was his. You threw your head back, crying out his name as the orgasm washed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of your mingled breaths, and the exquisite sensation of his cock buried deep inside you. As the waves of pleasure subsided, you collapsed against him, your chest heaving with exertion.

His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as your bodies remained connected, both of you lost in the aftermath of the passionate encounter. For a moment, there was only silence, only the sound of your hearts beating in sync.

Then, with a soft chuckle, Hangman leaned his forehead against yours. "You're something else, Y/N." He whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and satisfaction.

You couldn’t help but smile, your breath still coming in short gasps. "I aim to please," you murmured, before pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

He rolled you over onto your back, his body still inside of yours, and began to move again, slower this time, more deliberate. He wanted to savor this moment, to make it last as long as possible. He kissed along your collarbone, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours.

The kisses grew more intense, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving small marks. You didn’t protest, instead, you arched into the pain, your nails digging into his back as he claimed you once again.

This time, the passion was more intense, more raw, as if the first time was just the beginning of something much more powerful.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, casting shadows across the wall as your bodies moved together. The bed rocked beneath you, the headboard thumping rhythmically against the wall, a silent testament to the passion that had overtaken you both.

As the second climax approached, you felt yourself tighten around him, your body begging for release. He groaned, his movements growing erratic, his need for you consuming him. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he reached his peak, filling you with his warmth.

Finally, with one last, powerful thrust, he stilled, his body collapsing next to yours. You both lay there, panting and trembling, the sweat from your bodies mingling on the cool sheets. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

__________

The next few weeks are filled with tension between you and Jake. Where you are seemingly unaffected by the night you shared, Jake can't shake the memory of the night he shared with you.

He replays every moment in his head, relishing every touch, every kiss, every sound you made. He tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat whenever he sees you, the way his eyes keep finding you in a room, and the way his body responds to your mere presence.

You’re back at the bar, hanging out with the other pilots while playing pool. Jake can't tear his eyes away from you as you lean over the pool table, lining up your shot. He watches intently as your body moves, the way your hips sway, and the way the pool cue rests in your grasp.

He takes a sip of his drink, attempting to appear nonchalant, but his eyes never leave you, drinking in your every movement.

You notice his lingering gaze and shoot him a questioning look, feeling Bob’s hand snake around your waist as he pulls you into a hug. You lean into his embrace as he whispers a soft goodnight before he leaves.

Jake's jaw clenches at the sight of Bob's arm around you, a flash of anger and jealousy passing through his eyes. It takes all his self-control not to stride over and pull you away from the hug.

He watches as Bob leans in, whispers something in your ear, and then leaves. Jake's hands ball into fist, his knuckles turning white as he forces himself to stay seated. You walk over to Hangman, arms crossed.

“Jake, we need to talk.” your tone is firm. You’ve been noticing his lingering stares, the way he seeks out your touch and attention. It’s been a frustrating couple weeks.

Hangman looks up at you as you approach, his expression guarded. He knows exactly what you're talking about. The tension between the two of you since that night has been unbearable, and he knows he can't keep up the act much longer.

He tries to feign nonchalance as he responds, a cocky smirk on his face. "What's there to talk about? We had our fun, right?"

“Come on, outside.” you practically demand, glaring at him before leaving the bar. Hangman's cocky smile falters a little under your demanding tone, but he quickly recovers, grabbing his jacket and following after you.

Once outside, he turns to face you, hands stuffed in his pockets. "Alright, we're out here. What do you want to talk about?" His voice is casual, but there's a hint of wariness in his eyes. He knows this conversation is not going to go the way he wants it to.

“What’s your deal?” the two of you are off in a dark corner, hidden behind the bar. “You’re the one who said *just* one night, yet you can't seem to stay away.”

Hangman's jaw clenches, his carefree demeanor slipping for a moment. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

"I don't know, alright?" He snaps, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. "I didn't think it would be so damn hard to just walk away from you."

He starts pacing back and forth in the small corner, his body tense, like a caged animal ready to pounce.

You scoff, “You’re not the commitment type, so what exactly is this all about?” your gaze is hardened as you lean against the wall.

Hangman stops pacing, his back to you as he takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts.

"It's not about commitment, alright?" He says, turning back around to face you, his eyes meeting yours. "It's about you. I can't get you out of my goddamn head." His voice is hoarse, and there's a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that you've never seen before.

You look at him, eyebrows furrowed, expression full of confusion. Hangman steps closer to you, eyes searching your face.

"Don't look at me like that," he mutters, his voice gruff. "I...I don't know what I'm doing. I don't do this. I don't get attached, I don't get possessive. But I can't stop thinking about you, I can't stop wanting *you*..."

He reaches for you, taking a strand of your hair between his fingers, his touch gentle. "Please..." His voice is barely above a whisper, a plea. "Please don't make me stop." your gaze softens as he moves closer, desperate for you.

Hangman's plea hangs in the air, his voice revealing more vulnerability than he's ever shown before. He's practically shaking from the effort of resisting his growing desire for you.

He leans in, mere inches from your face, his breath hot on your skin. His eyes lock with yours, a mix of need and desperation swirling in their depths.

"I *need* you, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I've never *needed* anyone like this before. You're driving me damn crazy."

“And here I thought you weren't the begging type.” You hum, hands going to his muscular waist. Hangman's breath hitches at your touch, his body responding immediately to your proximity. His hands find your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not. Usually." He answers, his voice a low rumble. "But you're different. You've got me on my damn knees here, and I don't even care." His body presses against yours, his grip on your hips tightening as if he’s afraid you'll pull away.

“On your knees? Now that's something I’d like to see.” you tease, enjoying the feel of his body against yours.

Hangman's eyes widen for a moment as he registers your words, then his smirk returns, a challenge in his gaze.

“Is that right?” He drops to his knees, his hands gripping your thighs. He runs his fingers up and down your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

“I’d do just about anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips hovering just above your hip. You gasp, legs spreading for him.

“Yeah?” you guide his hand under your skirt, back pressing against the wall. Hangman's eyes darken as his hand moves underneath your skirt, his touch sending shivers up your spine. His breathing is ragged, his gaze hungry as he looks up at you.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "Anything, sweetheart. Just tell me what you want." His hand moves higher, his fingers tracing the hem of your underwear. His tongue slips out, running along his lower lip as he watches your reaction.

“Jake,” you whine his name, “I need you,” your fingers move to his hair, pulling him close. Hangman lets out a low moan as you pull on his hair, your words making his chest tighten with desire.

"Yeah, that's it. Say my name," he practically growls, his nose brushing against your inner thigh as he presses closer to you.

"I'm goin' crazy here, darling. Tell me what you want." His hands grip your thighs, his mouth trailing soft kisses along your skin, moving higher and higher until he reaches the edge of your underwear.

“I want you..” you gasp. Hangman's lips move against you, his breath hot against your clothed skin. He pulls you closer, his grip tight on your ass, as if he can't get close enough to you.

"Do you taste as sweet as you look, sweetheart?" He murmurs, his teeth nibbling at the fabric separated you, you gasp in response desperate for more. "I'm dyin' to find out." The bulge in his jeans is now apparent, his desire for you straining against the fabric.

Hangman looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes filled with a combination of need and heat. He pulls gently on the fabric of your underwear, his voice rough as he speaks.

"Can I take these off, sweetheart?" His hand moves up your thigh, his touch gentle. "I need to taste you, every inch of you."

Jake's gaze is intense, his eyes locked on yours as he slides your underwear down, revealing your glistening core. You nod the cool night air that kisses your exposed skin, causing goosebumps to rise along your legs.

He kisses your thighs, working his way closer to your center, his breath hot and his mouth watering. As he licks you, you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure.

His tongue moves in a slow, deliberate circle around your clit, teasing and taunting you until you can't help but whimper. He smirks, knowing he has you on the edge, and continues his sweet torture, his hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You lean back against the wall, supporting yourself as his mouth works magic on your body. Your legs tremble, and your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer as you feel the orgasm building deep within you.

His tongue slides into you, stroking you deep and slow, and you can't hold back anymore. You moan out his name, your body convulsing as the climax crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Hangman doesn't stop, even as your legs give out and you slide down the wall. He holds you up with one hand, his mouth still working tirelessly. You're lost in the sensation, your mind a whirlwind of pleasure as he devours you.

Finally, you manage to push him away, gasping for air. "Jake, enough," you murmur, your voice shaky. He chuckles, standing up and pulling you into a standing position.

"I'm not done with you yet," he says, his voice low and full of promise. He kisses you deeply, his tongue tasting the sweetness of your orgasm on his lips. You melt into the kiss, your body craving more of him.

Hangman's hands move to the button of his jeans, fumbling slightly with the zipper. His desperation is palpable, his breathing heavy as he works to free his erection. He pulls out his cock, thick and hard, the moonlight casting shadows over it.

You moan into his mouth as he lifts you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist. He presses you against the wall, your hands holding onto his shoulders for balance. His tip teases your entrance, coated in your juices from earlier.

With a gentle nudge, he slides into you, filling you up. Your walls clench around him, trying to keep him inside. He groans into your mouth, his hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm that has your toes curling in your boots.

You're both lost in the moment, the cool night air surrounding you as he fucks you in the alleyway. His movements are deliberate, each thrust a declaration of his need for you.

Your hands move from his shoulders to his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw, feeling the stubble that's grown in since the morning. You break the kiss, panting for air as you stare into his eyes.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice filled with passion. Hangman's eyes flare with desire, his hips moving faster, his strokes deeper.

The bricks of the alleyway press into your back, but you don't care. All that matters is the feeling of him inside you, the way your bodies move together in a dance as old as time.

You can feel the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing as he fights for control. But you want more, need more. You rock your hips against him, urging him to go harder.

He obliges, his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hands gripping your ass tightly. You throw your head back, your moans echoing through the deserted alley as you reach for your own release.

Your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks, your body spasming around his cock. Hangman groans, his own climax following quickly behind, filling you with his warmth.

He holds you there, his body shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of the moment etched into every line of his face.

Slowly, he lowers you to the ground, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound. You lean against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

He tucks himself back into his pants, his gaze never leaving yours. "I can't get enough of you," he says, his voice gruff.

You laugh, the sound a little shaky from the intensity of the encounter. "Is that so?"

Hangman's eyes never leave your face, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. His hands grip your hips, his touch both possessive and gentle at the same time. He leans in, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Damn right it is," he murmurs, his voice low. "I'm addicted to you, sweetheart. Can't get enough." he kisses your shoulder, pulling your waist as he presses you to him.