#TGM x OC

[whatislovevavy]

2. Kissing and More...

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x OC (Caledonia Hughes)

WC: 8.7k

Masterlist  Previous Part  Next Part

Warnings: swearing, smut (18+)

AN: Apologies for the wait, I’m in my 4th term of the school year so I’ve been hella busy and my mental health has only recently started to improve. I hope you guys like this and feel free to comment and reblog :) Thank you @sebsxphia for the encouragement to write this story when it was in development, it means the world <3 Also a big thank you to @royallyprincesslilly for the design of the divider :) 

All of my writings will be added to my writing side blog @sophs-writing-nook​  

These characters, except for Caledonia and Ella, are obviously not my own. This is an 18+ fanfic so minors scoot pls. You are responsible for the media you consume. Do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate this fic without my explicit permission as it is my own creation. 

“Welcome to mi casa, Lass.”

You walked into his living room, rubbing the pad of your thumb over the strap of your purse nervously as Jake closed the door behind you. 

Your evening had felt almost like a blur, doing something risky like this was completely out of your element. 

Jake’s living space had a bachelor pad feel to it; minimally decorated with a flat screen tv and a few leather couches. You had heard through the grapevine that Jake and Coyote recently moved in together once they were given a permanent station at North Island, finding it more desirable than living in the on base housing. 

“Coyote’s out with his sister and nephew, and won’t be home for a few hours.”

Jake’s voice pulled you back to him. He leaned against the hallway with a small smirk. 

Back at Francisco’s, he had limited time to admire your outfit in full. He liked the way your high-waisted jeans hugged your curves when you walked. How the navy blue sweater let him see your collarbones and tops of your shoulders, and brought out your eyes in the best way, reminding him of the deep ocean water of the Pacific. The way your small gold necklace settled just above your breasts. Your brunette locks from your pony tail that cascaded down your exposed shoulders and back, just begging for him to run his fingers through, or wrap around his fist.

You nodded, “it’s a nice place you have here,” you said softly, deciding to not bring up the obvious lack of decor. 

“Yeah, Coyote and I got a good deal on it… you wanna get the upstairs tour?” 

He wiggled his eyebrows, making you let out a small laugh as your nerves started to set in.

Jake led you up the stairs, placing his hand on your lower back as he showed you his shared home. 

“And this is my room, make yourself at home,” he gave a small smile before excusing himself.

He gave you a few moments to take in his room. If his drawl didn’t tell you he was from Texas, his room definitely did: A Stetson Cowboy hat hung from the wall, a signed, framed Longhorns Jersey on the wall near his closet, and framed family pictures with more horses and cowboy hats than you’ve ever seen in one photo.

 You took a seat on his grey comforter, placing your purse on the lower shelf of his night stand, looking over his collection of naval history books. 

A part of you didn’t believe you were truly in Jake’s room. You clenched your eyes shut, fully expecting to be waking up in your room at Penny’s when you opened them. 

Your eyes shot to his bathroom doorway as you heard the door click open, half expecting him to come out of the bathroom with a change of mind with regard to your arrangement. 

“You seem a little tense. Try to relax a little, Cal. You call the shots remember?” He smirked as he unhooked his ray bans from his shirt, placing them on his nightstand. 

You let out a small sigh, bringing your eyes to his as you felt the bed shift. He sat almost knee to knee with you. Your heart started to race, mind immediately going back to the previous night. 

Holy shit. You were going to kiss Jake Seresin tonight. He was right in front of you and about to be kissed. By you. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your attention shot to his face, taking in his soft grin and playful gaze on you. 

“O-oh n-nothing, just a bit nervous is all,” you said toying with the sleeve of your sweater, feeling his hot gaze on your face as you avoided making eye contact, deciding that the loose thread on your sweater sleeve was a better alternative to meeting his scorching gaze. 

He gave you that wide grin you loved, scooted closer towards you and softly pushed some  hair off of  your shoulder closest to him. He felt a strand of your hair between his forefinger and thumb absentmindedly as he softly spoke. 

“You don’t have to be nervous with me Caledonia, we take this however fast or slow you want, or not at all. We can just sit and talk if that’s what you’d like.”

You brought your eyes back to his face, his own gently diverting from your hair to your crystalline eyes. Your mouth was slightly agape as you felt your face flush a bit. 

A few moments of silence passed, you let out a small, closed-mouth, laugh, smiling to yourself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just can’t believe you called this my extracurricular curriculum,” your giggles continued. He only smiled brighter, taking you in. 

“Yeah, seemed to suit given you’re in grad school.” He laughed, running a hand through his hair. 

You didn’t realize he had gotten closer to you, his thigh fully against yours like a hot brand, your mind focusing on the soft pressure of his clothed thigh next to your jean-clad one. 

Looking up, his eyes were focused on your face, but not on your eyes. Was he looking at your lips? No, that couldn’t be right. That would imply he wanted to kiss you, maybe even thought about kissing you before, and this whole set up was merely a close friend helping a close friend. 

His eyes softly rose to meet yours. You always got butterflies in your stomach when you got a full look at the emerald gems that were settled under his eyebrows. Same when you looked down from his nose and dimples to his soft, kissable lips, to the small cleft in his chin.  

You whispered, breaking the silence, and asking one of the bravest questions in your life, “W-would it be ok if I kissed you?”

His mind seemed elsewhere, eyes dazed. “Of course,” he whispered. 

It took everything in him to not smash your lips to his, patiently waiting to follow your lead.

As you started to lean in, he did too. As you closed your eyes, he admired you in this vulnerable state before closing his own. 

You realized too late that you had missed your target, accidentally making contact with the side of his mouth, softly bumping your nose against his in the process.

“Shit-Sorry…”

“Its ok. Let’s do that again, yeah? You want me to take the lead?” he bit his lip, suppressing a smirk.

He had the same look in his eyes that he had at the pool table the previous night, not with pity but with an almost authoritative, comforting aura. The same way a shepherd would guide a lamb to green pastures. 

Because to Jake, you were his little lamb to care for. 

You nodded, feeling your face heat up. 

“Alright, close your eyes. If there’s something that I’m doing that you don’t like, tell me and I’ll stop. Ok?” 

You nodded, feeling warmth settle in your chest at his serious consideration for your consent throughout this experience so far. Softly sighing, you did as he asked. 

Besides the creaking of the bed, bearing both of your weights, and the soft hum of his AC, no sound was in the room. The anticipation of feeling his lips on yours made your heart race and subdue the impatient part inside you that had waited months to kiss this man. 

You felt one of his hands cup your cheek and the other settle on your waist, softly squeezing it. 

A few more agonizing moments of nothing before your felt it. 

You almost jumped back at the shot of electricity that came from his lips softly meeting yours. The soothing smell of mint paired with his velvet soft lips made you sigh against him. This was nice. Really nice. 

He almost moaned at the soft taste of raspberry and pistachio on your lips, loving how soft and plush your lips were against his. How responsive you were to him. He had to internally compose himself, feeling the blood from his brain flow downwards, in fear that he might overwhelm you. 

You relished in the feel of his lips on yours, feeling his whole body in the kiss, like waves licking an evening shore. After a few moments, you carefully tested the waters, bringing your hands to the back of his neck, scratching against his clipped hair and running your fingers through the portions that had significant length. 

A low rumbling passed his lips. Did-did he just groan? From something you did?

You softly scratched and tugged at his hair, testing if what you did had the effect you thought it did. 

Oh yeah. It most definitely did. You were making it very difficult for him to hold himself off. 

He softly pulled away to let you both catch your breath. It took all he had to not lean his forehead against yours, to feel you against him still with each breath you took. That would make this feel a bit more intimate to him, anything more than this friends with benefits relationship that had blossomed in the cracked, upholstered, maroon booths of Francisco's. 

You looked at him with such a sweet smile, still getting your breathing under control as red painted your cheeks. 

“You’re not so bad a kisser for someone who’s never done this before,” he smirked, running his tongue along his bottom lip, the taste of you still present. 

You took a moment to admire his disheveled hair and eyes almost black with lust. The sight made you feel a sense of astonishment in your newfound capabilities. 

“Well, I’ve done that before, but only once… w-was it obvious I don’t do this much?”

His thumb brushed along the side of your cheek, “Besides the little nose boop you did, it wasn’t glaring,” he softly chuckled. You playfully scowled, rolling your eyes and lightly shoving his shoulder, making his laughter grow. 

As his laughter died down, you bit your lip, looking up into his eyes.

“C-could we, maybe, do that again?” 

Jake gave a breathless nod, bringing your lips back to his, feeling his cock stir. He mumbled against your lips.

You softly pulled away, “what was that?”

“I said, have you ever french kissed before?”

“Was what we were just doing not that…?”

He smirked at your quiet tone, shaking his head. “I’ll show you… it’s kissing with a bit of tongue. Follow my lead and I’ll guide you through it.”

Guiding your lips back to his, he softly slid his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. You opened your mouth a bit, but not enough. He squeezed your waist under his broad, strong hands, letting his hands travel downward to the curve of your ass, eliciting a soft moan from your lips that made his cock jump. Jake took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth. You released a small muffled yelp. He smiled at the reaction, immediately yielding you to his ministrations, tongue caressing,  and twirling against yours. 

As much as you wanted to keep doing this with Jake, you needed air. You softly pulled back from his lips, breathing a bit heavy, looking down at the string of saliva that connected his flushed, soft lips to yours. 

As you both caught your breath, Jake smiled, “So, how was that?”

You looked back up to his gaze, with a cheek aching smile and flushed cheeks.

“That was fun…really fun.”

“You wanna do it again?”

You nodded excitedly, biting your lip.

He smiled, before biting the inside of his cheek, “tell me, Ms. Hughes, has anyone ever given you a love bite? Kissed your pretty neck before?” 

You felt yourself preen under his quickly heating gaze, and averted your gaze to your hands in your lap. 

The softness of his forefinger titling your chin up brings your azure gaze back on him. 

“O-once or T-twice,” you inwardly cringed at your stutter, but it was difficult to talk right when he looked at you with those handsome green eyes. 

He suppressed the wolfish grin that threatened to settle on his lips. 

“Well, would you be willing to have someone do it a third time?”

You gulped, nodding. 

"Still feeling nervous?"

Speaking, above a whisper, "a-a little." 

He gave you a small smile, "you have nothing to be nervous about, sweetheart. I'll take care of you."

Sweetheart had never sounded so sweet till now, making your chest inflate with a foreign warmth.

Feeling yourself preen under the weight of the endearment, you tried to divert your eyes anywhere but his own, but it proved difficult when his finger was still under your chin.

How were you supposed to handle all of this? You felt like you were going to combust with the way his lips felt against yours and the way his drawl made terms of endearment so warm and soft. You knew at that moment that if anyone else had called you them, it would have made your skin crawl.

How were you going to handle it when he put his cock inside you? 

“Your thoughts are awfully loud, Lass… do you like it when I call you sweetheart?” His tone hushed, gaze settling on your plush lips.

Not trusting your voice, you gave a small nod.

He bit the inside of his cheek letting a smirk settle, “I had a feeling you would… if you want me to stop just say the word, alright?”

You nodded. 

He carefully brought your lips back to his, relishing in the soft puffs of breath against his skin and your soft lips starting to move in sync with his own. As much as he didn’t want to leave your lips, he wanted to know if you preferred lovebites left along your jaw or that special spot behind your ear and, most importantly, what moans he could pull out of you.

His lips shifted softly from yours to trace the smooth flesh under your jaw, carefully grazing his teeth along the area before softly sucking and soothing with his tongue.

You didn’t know when exactly you had laid down under Jake, but the feel of his lips on your neck almost made you miss the plush material of his pillow cushioning your soft descent as you let your eyes flutter closed. 

Jake almost froze, hearing the soft whine pass your lips as he painted your neck with hues of red and purple made him twitch against the tan fabric of his pants. 

He settled between your legs, resting his weight on his elbows. Jake should have been given a medal for resisting as hard as he did from letting himself make contact with your jean-clad core. He wanted to savor this as much as he could and didn’t want to ruin the fragile lattice of comfort he cultivated by overwhelming you. 

His lips traveled to just behind your ear, nibbling at your tender flesh, relishing in each shudder and whine he pulled from you as he left a bruise on your perfect skin.

He could feel your fingers move from his shoulders to grip the back of his head to keep him in place.

“Oh Jake…” you softly moaned.

He let out a small groan as he laid a final kiss on the bruise he left, admiring the blotches of color he left along the column of your neck. He smirked as his eyes traveled from your kiss-swollen lips to the hues of red that painted your cheeks, and glazed-over eyes.

You almost took his breath away. 

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?”

Afraid your voice would come out as a whine, you only nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, Lass…” he smirked. You could tell he enjoyed making you squirm, but you didn't have the mental capacity to bring it up now. He bit the inside of his cheek as he waited for you.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered out.

He smirked, “did you like it when I kissed behind your ear or bruised your pretty neck?”

You breathlessly answered, “y-yes, I liked b-both. Both were good.”

He let out a small chuckle as he watched you fluster under his gaze

“Good girl…You want to take it a step further?” 

Your eyes widened a bit, “w-what would that entail?”

“I was thinking we could take our shirts off. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” 

Taking a deep breath, “O-ok… just… just don’t look at me until I give you the go-ahead. I’m just a bit self-conscious is all,” you finished quickly, avoiding his gaze. 

His expression shifted to one of bewilderment and concern as he rose up and gave you space to sit up, “Lass… you have nothing to be self-conscious about… but I’ll close my eyes until you're ready for me to look.”

He closed his eyes as he pulled his shirt over his head and placed it behind him. 

Your eyes were drawn to his exposed chest, admiring the way the sunlight bathed the tan expanse of his chest, reflected against against his soft chest hair, accentuated the taut muscle of his abdomen, pecs, and arms. Jake was the splitting image of Apollo in that moment. He looked so peaceful letting his eyes stay softly closed, waiting for you to give the word to open his emerald gaze onto your body.

“You know if you take a picture, it lasts longer.” he teased as a small smirk settled on his lips, keeping his eyes closed. 

“I w-wasn’t staring,” you huffed. 

Jake let a soft smirk paint his lips, “It’s ok sweets, you don’t have to be embarrassed about being caught checking me out.”

You took a deep breath, composing yourself, starting to take off your sweater, pausing when you realized you were only wearing a black bra underneath. 

What if he doesn’t like what he sees? What if the moment he sees you with your top off he wants to end the contract and never wants to look at you again?

Jake could feel your apprehension but opted to stay silent and let you work at your own pace. 

“Ok, you can open your eyes now.”

Jake carefully opened his eyes, taking note of your apprehensive tone. 

His eyes landed on your face, noticing your closed eyes, and tense arms that covered your chest. He did his damndest to not focus on the fact that the movement pushed your soft breasts up and caused them to spill out of your pretty black bra with lace accents. 

“Lass, you don’t have to be scared. Not with me.”

Beautiful. He wanted to say you looked beautiful.

You opened one of your eyes slightly, finding his sea foam green gaze on yours, painted with a comforting aura, a warm smile painting his lips.

His gaze brought you a sense of warmth and comfort that made you feel you could open both eyes and sit up a bit, but your back was still hunched a bit in an effort to hide your breasts and stretch marks from his sight.  

He slid closer to you, letting his hands softly encase yours that were still crossed over your chest. 

“May I?”

You looked up at him, lips slightly agape as he softly rose his eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

You softly nodded, trying to avoid his gaze.

He softly pulled your hands away from your chest down to your sides, giving you a sweet smile. You matched him on a smaller scale. 

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about Caledonia,” he softly reassured, letting his fingers draw circles on your waist as he felt his cock twitch at the sight of you. 

Your mouth fell agape. Having never been complimented before like this, you were speechless.  

“Is it ok if I kiss you?”

His voice broke you from your thoughts, nodding, “y-yes.”

He softly brought his lips to yours, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair, soft flesh of your waist, and undersides of your bra-clad breasts. 

His lips traveled down your neck to the tops of your breasts, softly kissing and sucking on your flesh. You let yourself catch your breath and small moans pass your lips, relishing in the groans that left his as you tugged on his hair. 

“This is getting a bit in the way, is it ok if I remove it?”

He smirked as he toyed with the lace edge of your bra, letting his eyes settle on your own.

Your hindbrain took over, letting out a small nod. 

He maintained eye contact as he reached behind you to undo the small latches, letting the soft fabric fall loose from your shoulders, before guiding it off your arms. His eyes remained on yours as he tossed the bra behind him toward the end of the bed. 

You let out a small laugh at the action as your face flushed, suddenly registering your vulnerable state, attempting to bring your hands up to cover yourself. 

His eyes darted to your hands, his own coming up to softly grasp yours and bring them back down to your sides.

“I meant what I said earlier. You have nothing to be self-conscious about, sweetheart.”

He smiled as he brought his hands to cup your breasts, silently admiring them. The soft, pretty pink hue of your areolas. The round edges of your nipples that stood stiff in the AC of his room. The hint of blue of your veins under the surface. The almost metallic shine of your stretch marks painted along your breasts. How they spilled over his palm. His smile grew as he heard your hitched breath. 

This was entirely new territory for you. 

You didn’t want to sound desperate as he gingerly ran his thumbs over your stiff peaks, but you couldn’t help the small whimper that left your lips as he teased your breasts.

He let out a small chuckle, “you’re so sensitive… you’ve never had anyone touch you here before?” 

You shook your head, “no one besides during my physicals,” you let out a small, nervous laugh.

He could only smirk at your flustered form, “well sweets," bringing his forefinger to playfully nudge both of your stiff peaks upward, "we’re going to change that."

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he leaned down to bring your nipple into the warm expanse of his mouth. You let out a soft yelp at the warm, wet sensation before letting out a low moan. He smirked against your skin, letting his tongue glaze and caress your sensitive flesh, before softly biting down on your soft peak. He could feel himself throb when he felt you run your fingers over the back of his head, let out small whines, and low moans as he played with you. 

He could get used to this. Being with you. But you were so smart, you were getting your PhD for fucks sake! You would probably want someone who had at least a Masters degree in some obscure field of biology or chemistry. He was smart, but not that smart. He was usually completely self-assured, never any doubt in his mind that he could have any woman he wanted. But it was different with you. He wanted to be soft with you in any way that he could. Even if it meant he could only have you like this.

You broke him from his sobering thoughts as you gave a harsh tug at his hair and let out a soft whine when he bit down on your peak, quickly soothing your peak with his tongue. Pushing aside his hard-on killing thoughts, he released your peak with a pop and focused on the other, granting it the same attention. 

After a few moments, Jake started to leave love bites all over the expanse of your chest, painting them in a mosaic of blue, red and cream, your moans and whines spurring him on. He silently moved down towards your stomach, placing open-mouthed kisses as he wandered down. If your brain wasn’t so cloudy, you probably would have told him he didn’t need to kiss there if he didn’t want to. 

As Jake let your saliva soaked skin release from his mouth with a soft pop, he looked up at the bruises he left, your breathless expression, and softly closed eyes. 

Smirking to himself, “hey, Lass… you with me?”

You lazily opened your eyes to peer down at him, giving him a nod.

His smirk widened, “Has anyone ever played with you down here before?”

He knew the answer. He only wanted to hear you say it.

Jake brought his hand to cup your jean clad core, mindful of the heat coming off and any movements that would suggest you didn’t want him touching you.

“N-no, no one has,” you softly whispered.

His smirk widened, eyes darkening. 

"So you're telling me that no one has ever felt you clench around their fingers… tasted you...made you cum before?"

You let out a hitched breath at his husky tone, “Y-yeah, no one h-has.”

He knew the answer, he just enjoyed you saying the answer all too much. 

He was the one to make you moan and whine like that for the first time. 

No one else. Him.

You were his to take care of, corrupt, and show this whole new world to. 

“Well Ms. Hughes, I think that needs to happen before we meet again next week. Don’t you agree?”

You clenched around nothing in your no-doubt soaked pair of cotton panties, only giving him a pathetic nod. It wasn’t your fault though, he knew how all of the right buttons to push to make you putty in his hands. 

He smirked, “well then… let’s get these off you, shall we?”  

He shot you a wink, making you preen as he scooted further down the bed to rest on his knees as he tenderly undid the button and zipper of your jeans, carefully watching your expression for any sense of hesitancy. 

“Those are some cute panties you have there, Lass,” he chuckled to himself as your face flushed for the 100th time today, feeling speechless. 

What were you supposed to say? Fucking thanks?

He pulled down your jeans, leaving you clad in only your dark blue panties. Sitting on his knees, he admired your soft stomach, the expanse of your thighs, exposed breasts that were littered with countless bruises up to your neck, your pretty, parted lips, and the little wet patch centered over your core through the soft fabric. He let his hands traverse the sides of your body, from your plush thighs, to your soft stomach, and full breasts. 

“A-are you going to take yours off too?”

His eyes shot to yours as your soft tone met his ears. He smirked, moving up your body to kiss you softly, “Of course.”

You let out a whine of protest as he got off the bed to remove his pants, leaving him clad only in a pair of boxers that hugged his thighs and hard-on wonderfully. You’re eyes widened, he was big. Perhaps the stories you eavesdropped on during your shifts weren't so far off.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to play with him next week,” he shot you a wink, relishing in the blush that has permanently taken over your face at being caught admiring him. 

Next week. You could wait that long. Maybe. 

“Is it ok if I take this pretty number off?”

You nodded, lifting your hips as he took off your last remaining article of clothing. 

Jake tossed them behind him, taking in your exposed cunt that was all his to see. 

His eyes were glued to the sight of your dripping lips that gleamed under the evening sunset, his cock throbbing against the thin confines of his boxers. You looked gorgeous like this, all spread out and exposed for him and him only. 

You tried to cover up again, feeling a wave of insecurity hit you.

“Don’t hide from me Lass, you have nothing you need to hide. Not from me,” he spoke softly.

You let out a soft sigh as his hands carefully maneuvered your thighs wider, softly pinning them against the comforter. 

“Such a pretty pussy… You ever touched yourself, sweetheart? Rubbed your pretty fingers over your swollen clit?” He husked. 

You nodded, still shy to openly admit such sensitive information.

“Show me.”

Your eyes widened, “W-what?”

“I said, show me how you make yourself cum. I want to watch you and then I’ll take over.”

“O-ok,” you gingerly brought your right hand down to your pubic mound, inching your fingers closer to the heat of your core. 

He watched intently as your fingers slowly made their way towards your dripping center, letting out a soft sigh as your cold fingers met the heat of their destination.

His gaze darkened as he saw you slowly swipe your fingers around your dripping hole before moving to circle your clit. He almost came to the soft moans you made as you started rubbing your clit for his dark jade gaze to see. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, show me how you cum all over your pretty little fingers,” he groaned, as he palmed his thinly clothed hard-on.

Your core clenched around nothing. you wanted more of his praise. 

Feeling Jake’s hands on your thighs and his dark gaze were like a hot brand on your flesh. It made it difficult to focus on the task at hand when he was right there, watching your every move, and it all boiled down to the fact you had never masturbated in front of anyone, much less cum in front of someone before.

After a few minutes, your nerves were starting to get to you, making it more difficult for you to find your release.

Jake would let out a few “that’s it, sweetheart” and “good girl,” but your huffs of frustration were becoming more evident. 

When your fingers halted their motions and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze, he knew he was going to need to intervene.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ve just never done this before in front of someone. It just makes me a bit nervous,” you say quietly feeling a rush of embarrassment.

His eyes flashed with concern, “It’s ok Caledonia, you don’t need to apologize. Would… would you want me to take over, see if I can help?”

He teased a bit, biting the inside of his cheek, resisting a full-blown smirk.

You bit the inside of your cheek, “s-sure.”

He matched yours, “alright, sit up and scooch forward for me please.”

Maneuvering himself behind you so you would settle between his legs, he guided you to lean back and open your thighs for him.

“O-ok…what are you doing?”

“Just getting comfortable, Lass.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice as you felt his hands run along your sides, up to your breasts to give them a soft squeeze, letting your soft exhales and low moans stroke his ego. 

He placed a kiss behind your ear, letting your head lull back onto his exposed shoulder.

“Now I just want you to sit back and tell me what feels good and what doesn’t, alright?”

“Sounds nice,” you let out a breathless tone. 

He let out a small chuckle. The feeling of his hands and the smooth expanse of his back against your bare one made you feel warm and comforted, like being wrapped in a blanket fresh out of the dryer. 

You caught the scent of Jake's cologne and the sight of his exposed neck. Contemplating if what you wanted to do was even allowed, you followed your desire and left a soft kiss on his throat before softly sucking a love bite onto his tan flesh. 

Jake shuddered at the contact, letting out a low groan as you soothed his flesh with your tongue. 

“Damn, Cal, you got the technique down, I must be doing a good job,” he softly groaned, chuckling softly.

“I’ve given love bites before, just didn’t have a lot of opportunity to practice,” you chuckled.

Jake's hand softly came up to squeeze your breast, starting to play with your peak, while his other rested on the inside of your thigh, “Well, now you have all the time in the world to practice… is it ok if I start touching you now?”

“Well, technically, you’ve been touching me for a while,” you bit the inside of your cheek to keep your expression neutral.

He rolled his eyes,” Alright smartass, is it ok if I start rubbing your clit?”

His husky tone, made your breath hitch. You nodded, knowing he was going to ask for a verbal confirmation, “yes, please.”

“Good girl,” he started to move his hand down to cup your heat, feeling your arousal drip into his hand, “you’re so wet, sweetheart, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked.”

You let out a low mewl in response, making him smirk.

He groaned feeling your hot, dripping core against his hand, letting his fingers collect your essence, and bringing it up to start circling your clit. 

You let out a whine as he made contact and started messaging your clit in tight circles. 

Frankly, you were a bit surprised he found your clit so fast, you half expected to have to guide him.

He started tweaking your peak as he continued to work you over with his hand, “That feel nice, sweetheart? Like it when I play with your tits and pretty little cunt like this?”

You could only nod, letting out a small whine.

You yelped when he started to lightly roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger, your yelp turning into a low moan.

He lightly chuckled, placing a kiss on your neck, “it’s ok sweetheart, just let me take care of you.”

You could feel the familiar bubble start to inflate in your abdomen, a low whimper passing your lips as your eyes clenched shut.

Jake felt pride swell in his chest at the feeling of your painted nails digging into the flesh of his forearm, making his cock twitch against your bare back. 

"You getting close, Lass?"

You could hear the smirk in his voice, but all you could give him was a small nod and a low whine.

"Sound so pretty, honey… you gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers, hm?" He husked against the soft cartilage of your ear.

You only nodded, letting out labored breaths as his sultry words registered, feeling his fingers circle your clit at a faster pace. Failing to register that he called you honey.

"Fuck…Jake," you let out a low moan feeling warmth start to flow from your core to your toes, mind starting to get hazy as your core clenched around nothing.  

The elastic band in your core was close to snapping. With Jake toying with your breast with one broad hand and rubbing your swollen clit with the other, it wasn't long before your lips parted and a soft moan passed your lips as your head fell back against Jake's broad shoulders. You feel your clit throb against Jake's unyielding fingers and warmth flood your veins as your head swam in pleasure. Your thighs start to twitch and hips squirm as he continued to prolong your high.

Jake's hand left your breast to hold your soft stomach as he continued to toy with you, keeping your hips from bucking.

"Shhhh, sweetheart…. There we go, such a good girl for me," he coos at your whining form, beginning to feel overstimulated. 

"Mhm, Jake… it's too much…" you say breathlessly. 

Jake places a soft kiss along your neck, letting his fingers slow down a bit, "it's ok baby, just a little more for me."

Baby? Where were these new terms of endearment coming from?

He smirks as he feels you continue to squirm, wanting to give you the full Seresin treatment. 

As you let out another low whimper, he let his fingers softly retract from your core. 

Holy shit. Someone made you cum. Genuinely cum! 

You let a smile settle on your lips as you let yourself bask in the dopamine waves licking the shores of your mind.

Your reprieve was broken by the soft sounds of a wet pop. 

Looking up, you found a sight that made your core clench. Jake looked down at you as he brought his fingers back into his mouth to get the rest of your essence off of them.

He smirked, "you wanna taste? You're pretty delectable, sweetheart." 

Your face flushed red. You didn't expect for him to think you tasted good. 

You'd never tasted yourself. You were a bit hesitant, rightfully so. 

You let yourself give him a nod, letting your hindbrain take over.

He still wore that same smirk as he brought two of his fingers to your lips, "open for me, sweets."

You did as he told you, letting the soft pads of his fingers settle on your tongue. The soft taste of your essence settled on your senses, making you softly hum as you closed your mouth around his fingers, letting your tongue caress them.

God, he couldn't wait to get your pretty mouth on his cock. The thought of how your tongue would trace the vein on the underside of his member made him twitch and clench his jaw.

He pulled his fingers away from your mouth with a soft pop.

“Good girl,” he cooed. 

You preened under the praise, feeling your cheeks glow a light red.

He smugly smiled as he started to trace small shapes on your breast, keeping his gaze on you, “would you be opposed if I ate you out, sweetheart?”

You felt your eyes widen and your throat go dry, “S-sure, I mean only if you want to… I don’t want you to feel like you have to if you don’t want to-.”

“Oh, I want to Ms. Hughes.” 

His playful assertiveness made you clench your thighs together and give a sheepish smile.

“I’m going to need to get situated down there. Please scoot forward, sweets.”

You did as he asked, eyes drawn to the planes of muscle that shifted under golden skin and his thinly veiled hard on that made you clench around nothing.

Jake settled himself towards the end of the bed, letting his hands softly spread your thighs. 

 Your core clenched at the soft groan he emitted at the sight of your exposed core that was still dripping from your previous high. 

“Let me know if anything I’m doing doesn’t feel good, ok?”

You nodded, “O-ok.”

He smiled softly, taking all of you in before taking on the task at hand.

Jake started to litter open mouthed kisses along your plush inner thighs, listening to the low mewls that left your lips as he softly bit down on your flesh and soothed the marks with his tongue. 

The little moans that met his ears as he left love bites along your thighs made him start to grind his hips into the mattress.

Sensing your indecisiveness with where to place your hands, “You can put your hands in my hair, sweetheart. Just tug if I do something you like.”

He looked up from your open thighs, sending you a wink as you settled your hands into his normally perfectly styled hair, savoring the feeling of his soft strands between your fingers. 

You knew this was a big deal. He never let anyone touch his hair. 

Your thoughts were broken by the sudden pressure of his tongue swiping up the length of your core, making your hips buck, and fingers tighten in his hair. 

His hum of satisfaction at the taste of you made you shiver as you clenched your eyes shut, letting your head fall back against his pillow.

His hands settled around your thighs and laid them flat on your lower stomach, keeping your hips pinned and open on the gray comforter. 

Jake used his thumbs to gently spread your folds, admiring the soft pink hue of your soaked hole and plush flesh of your clit. 

Leaning down, he softly prodded your hole with his tongue, adjusting to keep your hips from bucking. 

You almost yelped at the feeling of his tongue caressing your walls, gripping his hair more strongly as he moved towards your clit. 

He looked up at you with playful green eyes, murmuring, “easy there,  sweetheart…" 

A smug grin lit up his face. He couldn't believe that he was the first one to touch you like this. The first one to make you cum, to taste you. 

He couldn't help but feel sorry for every man that passed up the opportunity to be with you like this, but a more possessive side of himself didn't care. It was their loss. He got to have you all to himself; innocent and untouched. It put him in a frenzy like nothing had before.

You softly mewled at the feeling of his textured tongue against your sensitive flesh. He savored the subtle sweet taste of you, giving your core you a few more broad strokes of his tongue before letting his muscle caress your engorged bundle of nerves. 

Jake could barely recognize you by the sounds he was pulling out of you. Gone was the quiet as a mouse, reserved girl at the bar top and here was a beautiful siren sprawled out on his bed, letting out the most sinful noises (or heavenly noises, he couldn't decide) as he caressed your flesh and slowly drowned in your essence. 

Your hands clenched around his sandy brown locks as he gave your clit an experimental suck. 

He smirked as a high-pitched whine left your throat, your fingers holding onto his locks of hair for what felt like dear life. 

"S-shit…Jake," you groaned.

He let you clit go with a soft pop, laying his head against your thigh, letting his pointer and middle finger softly trace the cleft between your thighs and nudge your clit, "You like that, Lass? Want me to add my finger?"

You lifted your head to meet his playful, gleaming gaze as he continued to trace your folds.

You slowly nodded, hyper fixated on Jake's prodding of your core. "Y-yes please," you mewled. 

He smirked.

"Such a polite, good girl," he husked. 

Laying a soft kiss to your puffy clit as he traced your weeping hole, making you let out a hitched breath.

You gasped as he gingerly pushed one of his thick fingers into your core. 

God, you were so tight. He almost came in his pants like a goddamn teenager at the thought of your silk walls grasping his cock the same way.

Your hips jumped against his broad hand as the pad of his finger rubbed against a spot you didn't even know you had. 

You softly moaned, arching your back, feeling him apply more pressure to your velvet walls in a come-hither motion and savoring the feeling of him filling you. 

"That feel nice?"

Even though your mind was hazy with lust, you knew he was wearing that same signature Hangman, panty-dropper smile. 

Before you could even muster a response, your brain short circuited. 

"O-oh Jake… that feels so good," you pathetically whimpered. If you were in your right mind, you would have rolled your eyes. Nothing related to sex could have possibly felt that good, could it? You ate your words as Jake lapped at your clit and sucked it into his mouth, releasing it with a wet pop as he continued to thrust his finger into you with vigor and precision.

You could feel the rubber band in your abdomen start to stretch as your high was building. 

"You want another finger?" 

You nodded without realizing it," yes," you groaned, feeling his two thick digits line up at your entrance. 

You winced a bit at the initial stretch, but it soon morphed into pleasure at the feeling of more pressure on the little piece of heaven in you and the feeling of being filled by Jake. 

"Damn, sweets, you're so tight, squeezing my fingers." He groaned against your cunt. 

The squelching of your cunt, the soft moans and whimpers that left your lips, and Jake's soft groans filled the room. 

If the tightening hold your fingers had on his hair and fluttering walls around his fingers told him anything, you were close.

Jake started moving his fingers at a faster pace and focusing his ministrations on your clit, drawing one of the many flight plans he'd memorized. You yanked on his hair as his tongue flicked the underside of the hood of your clit, his groans reverberating through your flesh to your nerves set alight making you whimper, mewl, and buck your hips.

"Shit, Jake… whatever you're doing, please don't stop!" you breathlessly moaned, eyes clenched shut, and eyebrows pinched together in pleasure.

He looked up at you, swearing you were one of the most beautiful sights of his life; lips parted, cheeks flushed, and eyes shut in pleasure.

Your pathetic whines and moans went straight to his cock as he continued to ground his hips into the bed.

He gave your clit one last, long suck, and you were gone. Finished. Completely thrown over the edge into a sea of pleasure you thought didn't exist.

"Oh fuck…. Jake!," you exclaimed followed by soft moans, your cunt milking his fingers as your hips squirmed, and thighs threatened to close under Jake's strong grasp. 

The moment your sinful words met his ears, his eyes closed in bliss, groaning against your drenched cunt, his fingers slowing and savoring the feeling of your velvet walls choking his fingers, and your soft clit throbbing against his lips, wishing his fluttering cock was where his fingers were right now. 

He rested his forehead against your inner thigh, letting his breathing return to normal, and returning to softly lapping at your core, letting soft sparks of pleasure continue to flow through you.

Your soft whines and continued hip squirming, brought his ministrations to a halt, placing one last soft kiss to your abused clit.

He smiled up at you supporting his upper body on his elbows, a lazy smile on his lips.

"How was that Ms. Hughes?"

Your dazed expression met his as a full-blown smile slowly developed on your face, "that was really nice. Really nice." 

"Just really nice?" He coaxed, tracing your folds softly with the pad of his finger. 

"It was… I've never felt anything like it before." You began to sit up, noticing the large wet patch you left on his comforter. 

"Shit, I'm sorry-"

"Never apologize for making a mess on my bed…Such a messy girl," he cooed, sitting up and tilting your chin towards him to meet his dark jade gaze that was almost fully encased in black. 

Letting out a small, hitched breath at his words, your cheeks got warmer. 

"W-would you like me to return the favor?" 

"Well, Caledonia, you've already done that, and I want to save that for next week," he softly chuckled. 

Your eyebrows pinched together, a small pout settling on your lips.

"But I barely even touched you-."

Jake's eyebrows rose, exaggeratedly bringing his gaze down to his crotch, and then back to yours. Your own followed suit to the wet patch on his boxers.

Your voice shaky, "W-was that j-just from eating me o-out? Does that h-happen often?" 

He merely nodded, "sometimes… only when the girl sounds pretty when she cums," he ended with a genuine smile.

You blushed, playfully rolling your eyes as you softly shoved his shoulder making him purse his lips and chuckle.

He didn't know how to tell you that you were the first girl in his adult life to make him do that. And that scared him.

You tried to subdue the sinking feeling in your heart that you were just another girl he did this with. A friend helping out a friend. You didn't let your smile fall completely as you pushed the feeling away to savor being with him in any way you could. 

You broke away from his gaze, towards the sun dipping below the horizon painting the sky in navy, purple and dark red. It was getting late. Penny and Amelia would be expecting you home soon. 

As you returned your gaze back to him, his warm gaze was already on yours. It never left to begin with. 

You both had gentle smiles on your faces.

It wasn't clear who leaned in first, but you softly moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, moving softly against yours. 

He softly broke away, letting his nose nudge yours, whispering, "I should get you home, don't want Penny worryin' about you." 

You softly nodded. 

—

"Where do you want to meet next week?"

Jake brought his truck to a park in the nearly empty parking lot of Francisco's.

"Well… Penny and Amelia are going out for a school-related thing next Thursday for a few hours, so my place should be free starting at around 5." 

Closing the calendar app on your phone, you brought your attention back to Jake. 

You were grateful that Penny let you live at her place and she initially made clear that you could have "boys" over as long as you weren't loud and they weren't home. You didn't think that would be an issue due to your predicament when you first moved in. It was almost exciting, arranging trysts with Jake for your weekly lessons and almost sneaking around while still abiding by Penny's lenient rules. 

"Alright, I'll be there around 5:30, and park down the street to be safe," he gave a soft smile. 

You matched his expression, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek, "thanks for tonight, and the ride."

"My pleasure, Ms. Hughes," he spoke softly, shooting you a wink. 

You gave him a soft smile, and chuckled. "I'll see you at the Hard Deck this weekend?" 

"Of course," he smiled, "wouldn't miss seeing my favorite bar maid." 

You smiled at his teasing tone, "Don't tell Penny that… she'll ring the bell every time you so much as come to the bar top. I'll see you later, Jake, get home safe." 

You reached for the door and stepped out. Jake softly bit his lip, "wait…"

You paused and turned to him, "we should probably exchange numbers, ya know for communication purposes…"

"Sure, just enter your phone number and I'll text you," you spoke softly passing him your phone.

He quickly typed his phone number in, "here you go, text me when you get home safe. Ok?" 

You nodded, closing his passenger door and walking towards your car. You turned and gave Jake a small wave that was returned. 

Jake watched as your taillights turned red, pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the evening. 

Really? Communication purposes? Jake put his head in his hands. That couldn't have been the best he could have come up with. But alas, it was. 

He couldn't get over how you looked sprawled out on his bed, soaking his sheets, moaning, and whining like some kind of temptress from Greek mythology. 

He'd never be able to look at that comforter the same way again.

The way you were so shy and hesitant to reveal yourself to him made him feel a mix of emotions like no other. 

It amazed him that you didn’t see yourself the way he saw you, as a beautiful, smart woman that deserved to be tenderly kissed and made love to. But there was a small part of him that was driven wild by the fact that no one had done any of these things to you. 

He was the one to make you cum for the first time and show these new experiences to. 

His cock twitched at the thought, bringing his hand down to softly palm his readily developing hard-on. If someone had told him he’d be touching himself in his truck, parked in the empty parking lot of Francisco’s that evening after meeting with you, he would have laughed, told them to go grab some bug spray, and take a hike. 

He was already counting down the hours till he could see you and touch you again. 

Taglist: Let me know if you’d like to be added :)

@marvel-hotchner @nemesis729 @a-lil-bit-nuts @justagirllivinginaghibliworld @mizzzpink @themusingofagothicsoul @mayhemmanaged @sebsxphia @potato-girl99981  @a-beaverhausen @withahappyrefrain @hangmans-wingman  @callmemana @joalslibrary @peachiicherries @mrsjaderogers @entertainmentgal8​ @jkbindigo11 @princess76179 @clancycucumber230 @teacupsandtopgun​ @chaoticassidy @superskittles @cherrycola27 @ninaxwaffles​

[sophs-writing-nook]

Learning from the Best Masterlist

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Plus Sized! Organic Chemistry and Biochemistry Nerd! Reader

Caledonia ‘Cali’ Hughes has always put romance on the back burner. With getting through her biochemistry graduate program at UC San Diego and many relationships that failed before they could start, she has always viewed true romance and sex alike as treasures that were never for her to experience. Turns out a job at the Hard Deck and an eavesdropping, emerald-eyed pilot offering his ‘expertise’ lets her learn from the best, and, most importantly, that she has always been worthy of such treasures.

Warnings:

swearing, smut 18+, depression, anxiety, body insecurities, loss of virginity, low-key friends with benefits to lovers trope, Hangman being a sweetheart and having an innocence kink, talk of toxic relationships in combination with mental health, touch of angst (I’m incorporating some things from my life into this with regard to mental health and how it has affected my past romantic relationship)

1. The Proposal

2. Kissing and More...

3. Handjobs & Blowjobs, Oh My!

4. A Little More Than Cherry Popping

5. Practice Makes Perfect

6. Hangman’s Little Squirt Gun

7. Caledonia’s Cure-All

8. What Am I Supposed to Do Now?

9. Faint Heartbeat

10. As You Wish

Drabbles/Asks

Stress Relief

Jake gives Caledonia a birthday lap dance

Oh, What Bliss

[jackiequick]

The Second Meet Up

Top Gun Maverick AU <3

Pairing: Jake x Amber

Hangman x OC, Iceman Daughter OC & TGM x OC

Sorry if it’s kinda long <3 Continuation of this fic

The next two day were decently packed with preparation and incoming calls for the higher ups of the Navy. Amber arrived in a creamy white dress, flats and a olive green bomber jacket that was gifted by her uncle Pete Mitchell. Class was set up near the clear view of the planes and the beautiful skies waiting for pilots to arrive. 

She waited for the right moment to walk in and introduce herself. Soon enough, the navel aviators that returned to Top Gun for this mission walked in taking seats glancing over at one another. Cyclone and Bates introduce the topic at hand as everyone nodded along as if to say ‘we’re listening sir, keep going.’ Bate walked up to the stage with a grin glancing over at the doorway where Amber stood waiting in the wings.

He began, “As you may all know we are all here for the right reasons and to prove that you made for this mission. We are here to protect and support the future of this country with this mission. Successors of Top Gun, more importantly, Admiral Tom Kazansky chosen many people to watch over this missionary work of ours, however he chosen one to keep an eye on us personally. Some of you already might’ve heard of her. She has read over all your files, helped with handpicking every single one of you standing before me and will be taking care of you. May I introduce you to the young lady herself, Amber Kazansky. Call sign, Skysolo.” She walked in holding a notepad in one hand as her dress flew across with to the stage grinning brightly at everyone.

Amber stood across everyone, seeing the group who would soon be called The Daggers in front of her. Many she haven’t met yet but others she knew personally. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw gently smiled at her, excited to give her a bear hug, haven’t not seen the girl since July last year due to all the delayed missions or busy schedules. However Jake on the other hand was taken back in his seat, seeing the women he met just two days ago standing in front of him, in all her glory.

“Damn she looks like an angel…” He muttered underneath his breath grinning softly at the woman. Hangman knew he had to be on his best behavior around her, to make a good impression at least. He looked over at Bradshaw seeing the excitement on his face wondering if also Rooster had a crush on her too..he didn’t want to be overshadowed around him. Especially not after meeting the young woman first.

She cleared her throat catching everyone’s attention again knowing half of them were curious about the fact that she was here, and who were they also going to be introduced to as well. She smirked, “Good morning! I hope we all had a good day so far, Bates is correct. I will be watching over you, however hopefully you’ll barley even know I’m here unless you hear me laughing. Since I’ve been told beforehand, I laugh somewhat loudly.” Her small jokes caused the group to chuckle and smile feeling a bit at ease. Amber continued chuckling herself, “Good. I hope we can all become friends sooner or later. On to the real point aviators, this mission requires a full hands on couch and someone with a eye for this line of work. And I’ve brought him to you. Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real work experience and has everything your expected to master with the time of your training. His exploits are legendary and he’s considered one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you, may very well be the difference between life or death.”

Amber looked over at Bate with full on pride as they stood next to one around. As they continue to introduce the man of the hour, he walked a crossed the desk that held the students with a small shit eating grin. Each and every single aviator eyes followed him as they walked along the line of the runway.

Bradley’s smile dropped, Coyote and Payback seemed uncomfortable with who it is. Hangman glances over his shoulder as his smiles seems to dropped unable to believe that he throw this man out of the bar last night. “I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign, Maverick.” Bates finished as Pete walked onto the front of the stage. Giving his niece and friend a kind nod mouthing ‘Thank you’. He finally turned to face the class softly smiling, “Good morning!”

After everyone was gone and out of the class, getting ready for their flight against Maverick. Amber stayed walking behind the group wearing her sunglasses and grinned catching up with Bradley. Rooster hugged his old friend and introduced her to Phoenix as the three started talking as they got dressed. Amber left them to finish getting ready as they entered the runaway center with all the planes, when a certain tall blonde man came running up behind her.

He huffed grinning softly, “Well, well, well what do we have here? Miss Kazansky! Or should I say Skysolo?”

She sighed softly smiles turning around to face the man, “Yes Hangman? Not happy to see me?”

“I am happy just wasn’t expecting to see you again. You could’ve mentioned something about it two day ago, you know...?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Jake sigh smiling a bit, “Yeah well..I could’ve liked a heads up Skysolo. I don’t always like surprises like this, but I’m glad your here.”

“You can just call me Amber, Mr. Seresin and I’m happy your glad to see me. But I will give you a heads up on Maverick, he flies quick and acts like he’s on a race against time. You just gotta learn to keep up.” She said smiling.

“Alright, I can definitely do that! You will be impressed by my skills.”

“And you will be impressed by Mav’s.” She reach onto her tippy toes as her lips brushed against his cheek, “Good luck Hangman..”

With that, she walked away with a gentle grin leaving Jake biting his lips with a bright smirk touching his cheek, turning on his heels to run off to grab the rest of his flight gear. Later on, Hangman stood next to Coyote waiting for their turn with a loopy smile looking out the window to see Hondo and Amber waiting outside with headset for the aviators to each touchdown and pass the test. Knowing they would fail against Maverick and have to do push ups with runway near the million dollar planes.

Coyote snickered noticing a light pink stain of his wingman’s cheek saying, “Yo Hangman! I didn’t notice you added some blush to your cheek.”

Hangman looked over confused at the moment, sliding over to the mirror seeing the lipstick mark left behind and rubbing it off quickly chuckling warmly, “Let’s just say it was..uh, a gift from our new lady in charge.”

“Kazansky?!” He shouted then looked around seeing out loud he was being.

“Maybe, it was a good luck kiss.” He chuckling playing it off, “She was meant to give you one too but you weren’t around to get it.”

First day with Maverick went as follows, everyone tried to beat him and take a shot but failed due to being too late, unable to listen, acting cocky, arguing with the instructors and or leaving the others behind in the skies. So in result plenty of push ups were done with Hondo and Amber watching as well as counting.

To say Skysolo was somewhat confused and disappointed was a understatement. Even being with Rooster and Hangman for different reasons, but that’s the way it is. She knew the circumstances and challenges that was lead to training with Maverick. Her uncle was tough in the skies and saw potential in all of them, but they don’t listen and or decided not try working as a team.

Thank you for reading! Hope you liked it <3 What did you think about it?

Tags: @eagerforthesky @t-nd-rfoot @mandylove1000 @youlightmeupfinn @raphroseybeanpie @gaminggirlsstuff @topgun-imagines @gcthvile @happilycameron @rooster-84 @msrochelleromanofffelton @starkleila and etc

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[beyondthesefourwalls]

A Verbal Agreement

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

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

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

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

---

---

You hated him. 

Truly, you did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh,” you breathed. 

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

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

“God I love it when you beg for me.” 

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

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?” 

“Jake.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I mean it.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Main Masterlist

[bobfloydsbabe]

gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: ~0.5k

A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!

UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST

Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.

Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.

“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.

She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”

“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.

“Right,” she agrees.

He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.

She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”

“Work?”

“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”

He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”

She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”

Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”

“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”

Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.

“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”

The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.

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[waklman]

Glue Song (Pt. 1)

summary: jake tries to keep your existence out of rooster’s knowledge. (friends to lovers, pining)

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: negative self talk

a/n: haven’t wrote in awhile but glue song by beabadoobee and tgm brought me back...ugh i can't i love pining jake.

word count: 2.5k

next part

“I respect the guy, but he is out of his damn mind.” You watch as Jake momentarily pauses his rambling to take another chug of the latte you brewed for him. 

“Maverick must’ve hit his head while landing during the last mission. Yeah, that must be why.” he concludes, almost entertaining himself, imagining all the ways the old guy could have begun to lose his sanity.

If Jake wasn’t so annoyed, he would have laughed at the made up scenarios playing out in his head. And of course, voicing them to you afterwards so you could laugh with him.

Noticing that some of the neatly decorated whip cream from his drink had found a new home on his freshly shaved face, you wet your hands in the sink and mindlessly reached over the kitchen island to wipe at his sticky chin. 

He blinks back at you, the annoyed expression on his face faltering at your touch.

“There was whip cream on your face. You hate when things get on your skin.” you carefully whisper, pulling your hands back to begin cleaning the dishes again. 

Worry began to brew in your stomach, you might’ve crossed a boundary. 

After processing what happens, Jake just hums, pursing his lips at you in thanks.

Your body unravels at the notion, the tense muscles of your shoulders relaxing itself.

Jake watches you intently, eyes scanning over every detail of you. 

There is a beat of silence as you two acknowledge each other. Your eyes meet in silent conversation. So touching Jake’s face was allowed, you two had agreed without having to say a thing to each other. 

As if nothing happened, Jake regains his posture and furrows his eyebrows together once more, signaling that he’s ready to continue his stream of complaints–this becoming a new routine for you two on weekends where you are both off from work. 

You couldn’t help but to smile to yourself in moments like these. Moving to San Francisco on your own was not an easy decision. Stability has always been something you craved, even if it meant not putting yourself first. But it quickly wore you out with time. You had a job you were unhappy with, shitty friends who you had kept around for the sake of having a social life, essentially trading in your sanity for the sake of stability. The knowledge that this might be how your life would span out, left you disoriented. 

That one fateful summer was when you had decided it was time for a change, despite the fact it made you sick to your stomach to do something so sudden, especially all on your own. But, maybe a new location is just what you needed. 

When you first arrived, reality hit you like a truck. All you felt was immense regret, you had no friends, you’re making less money now, and you didn’t know your way around San Diego at all. This wasn’t something you were used to, causing the doubts of your rash decision to eat at you whenever you had a moment to think to yourself. You should’ve never done this. 

And as if your guardian angel saw your internal struggle, they sent Jake on your trail to ease all of it. All it took was his odd obsession with the way you specifically made his vanilla lattes, to keep him around—following your every move like he was tethered to you. 

After a while Jake found himself not only sticking around for your applaudable barista skills, because there was you. Jake never realized he could possibly laugh so hard that it hurt until he started talking to you during his morning coffee runs. Before you, he had always thought that was just an expression–how was it possible to laugh that hard? And like any other guilty pleasure Jake had, he couldn’t help himself in indulging in you, not wanting to share you with anyone else. 

After flight training, he’d unconsciously rush out of the locker rooms without saying goodbye to anyone in order to catch you after your shift. Just so he could walk you to your car as he accidentally bumps into you outside. 

And as the weeks flew by, your shared activities quickly branched out from just friendly morning chats and Jake walking you to your car. 

Now you found yourself spending weekends with him, where you had continued to make his coffee for him, but now just inside in the comfort of your own apartment. Playful conversations were had every morning, with you behind the counter and him seated across from you grinning ear to ear from hearing your laughter that he evoked from you. This became permanently ingrained into both your weekly routines. His excuse being that he can’t physically survive if you weren’t the one making him his morning coffee, so he obviously has to come see you every weekend. It was a no brainer, he told you. 

“He is ridiculous.” he affirms once more before bringing his lips back around the rim, being more careful to not get his drink onto his face this time.

Although it might have seemed like he was rambling to himself, you had been nodding and quietly reacting to every statement he made thus far–assuring him that you were paying attention to him. 

“That's funny, coming from the guy who was growing a whip cream beard one second ago.” you inquired.

“When did you stop being so nice to me?” he sulked, something he was specifically raised to never do. His father would have had a stroke if he knew his 30 year old son was habitually sulking now. But it couldn’t be helped, you drew out new behaviors from him, that he never felt ashamed about doing. 

“If I knew you were like this, I would have never pestered you at work in the first place.” Though, Jake knew that if his day had been reset from the first day you two met, he’d undoubtedly pester you every single time. 

“That’s too bad, isn't it?” You flicker some water on your finger tips at him. 

“Hey, watch it missy.” he flinches, bringing a protective palm to hover over his drink. 

“So, let me get this clear-” you redirected the conversation back to its original course. 

Jake quickly shifts his attention away from the state of his drink and back to you. 

“So Maverick..” he nods, confirming that you got his callsign right. 

“...wants you and your co-worker Rooster to spend time together outside of work. At least once a week?” you cautiously recall what he told you.

“Yeah, isn’t that horrible?” he puffs his chest in defiance, expecting you to readily agree with him. 

“Can’t be that bad though, right? Shouldn’t you two be working on becoming good friends, especially now that your dagger squad is an official detachment now? You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on.” you expressively shared your final thoughts with him.

He silently watches you rinse off the dishes as he soaks in what you said, with his brows pinched tightly together. You were right, he knew that. 

“We get along fine, we’re kind of cool with each other after that first mission. Why be best buds?” he deflects. 

“I want you to have more friends, Jake. Give it a shot.” you attempt to encourage him, while placing his dishes onto the drying rack carefully.

“I have you and Javy.” 

“But you can also have Rooster. And who knows, maybe everyone else on the squad too.” you offered up with a smile. 

“I have a week to plan our first bonding session.” Jake threw up his fingers in two sarcastic quotes. 

“Cute. So like a date?” 

You grinned widely watching Jake’s face fall flat. 

“God. Please.” he scoffs, trying to fight off the smile making its way onto his face. 

“Never call it a date, I’m begging you angel.” Oh. The endearment slipped from his mouth and Jake looked slightly mortified. 

Well, it’s not like you weren’t an angel in his eyes anyways, he thought.

Ignoring the flush of heat rushing to your ears, you attempt to casually brush over what he said. 

“How about. I lend you a hand, just this once.” Jake’s ear almost perks at your statement, instantly recovering from his slip up.

“I’ll set something up for you two down at the shop after I close up, all you have to do is show up.”

“Only question is, if you trust me enough with something like that.” 

Of course I do, he thinks. 

Jake wishes he could extract the part of your brain that made you doubt yourself so much. The blond couldn’t think of anything he wouldn't trust you with. And he’d seen you do it so often–second guess yourself, and he hated it. He hated how it made him feel–sick at the thought that you could possibly not believe in yourself. 

“If I didn’t, would I be sitting here defenseless at your place?” He flashes his dimples at you in a reassuring smile. 

Adoration fills you completely at the sight of him, his tousled morning hair and the creases set under his eyes, marked by his smile makes you glad you decided to take residency here. This feels right, Fightertown feels right. He feels right.

“You’re lucky my love language is acts of service, Jacob Seresin.”

“Mine is physical touch.”

“Gross.” 

“Don’t believe me? Come here.” he raises his brows teasingly, getting up from his seat, making his way towards you. 

“No. Stay back.” you panic, swatting away his already outstretched arms. 

“So…what do we think?” you were basically jittering from where you stood, a poor attempt at holding back your overflowing excitement. 

The two naval aviators stood side by side in front of you, almost mirroring each other perfectly. Expressions unreadable, hands on their hips, lips pursed and side eyeing each other—urging the other to speak first. Javy directs Jake to say something first by lifting his chin at him as Jake deadpans his best friend in response.

Between you and the pair of pilots sat a small table you manage to drag in the center of the cafe with a candle flickering in the center, surrounded by an array of chocolate croissants that you knew Jake had an insatiable craving for. The rest of the table was cramped with random assortments of new Valentines recipes you had been testing–and who better to try them than your reliable Jake and his new friend that you would assume to be in equal size as him. 

And how could he possibly crush your excitement and tell you this looks absolutely terrifying, and that he would rather do 300 pushups under the unforgiving sun than sit at this romantic table and feast on your heart shaped cookies with the likes of Rooster. 

“Well,” Coyote begins, not noticing the pointed glare Jake shoots at him. 

Jake observes you begin to shrink in front of his eyes at Javy’s tone and immediately slaps his palm over his friend’s mouth, panicked at what he’ll start to say. 

Javy stiffens, shocked that his germophobic friend had even put his hand on his face, recalling all the times Jake complained that Javy should start using cleanser for his “oily” skin. Jake even once swore he would rather eat dirt than touch Javy’s face after seeing sweat drip down his face after their first morning run together. 

“It's perfect” he swallows back any sign of hesitancy under your careful gaze.

You know he’s lying for your sake. Although he sounds sure, you could see the prominent vein in his neck protrude, a tell tale sign that he’s feeling pressured. 

“Jake..” the uncertainty in your voice makes him want to double over. Your shoulders have already slumped, his eyes frantically watching as your cardigan start to slip down your arms, exposing your bare shoulders. 

Javy’s mouth parts as he watches Jake take a big step over to you, gently pulling the sleeves of your knit cardigan up to your shoulder blades again. His hands slowly moving down to your wrist, nervously playing with the cuffs of your sleeves. 

Javy’s heart briefly swells at the sentiment, but he knows what he has to do. Jake would thank him for this later, he hopes. 

Although Jake has to be the most horrifyingly fearless pilot Javy knows, when it boils down to situations like these–he knows his best friend needs a push in the right direction or else he’ll never take the leap of faith. 

Javy pulls himself together.

“Admit that you hate it, Hangman” he speaks up, interrupting the moment.

Bewildered, Jake snaps his neck to face Javy from where he stood in front of you. 

“I do not hate it.” his southern accent is now present from being provoked. 

Javy feels glad for once that Jake is so stubborn. 

“So you’ll happily sit here with Rooster?”

“Yes.” He answers almost immediately.

“Can we join you too?” Javy quickly shoots the question.

“Of course” he answers, right away.

Javy practically glows at the sight of Jake’s eyes shooting wide open, caught off guard by his own reply. 

“Perfect. Rooster can hang with all of us.” Javy proudly grins. 

Something unfamiliar swirls at the pit of his stomach. You, Javy, and him hanging out? Sure. That's fine, as long as he sits between you two. But You, Javy, him, and Rooster? It’s unpredictable. 

When a bird flies straight into his jet unexpectedly, he can handle that–he can predict the outcome. When his jet is jeering towards a canyon and his eject button doesn't work, that’s fine he can predict his next move to get out safely. But the idea of you and Rooster in the same room makes his head spin out of control. Jake feels like his soul shifts out of his body for a moment.

“That’s a great idea Javy! Maybe we can sit in on this hangout so Jake is less nervous too.” you chime in, grabbing Jake’s hands sweetly, swinging them side to side to soothe his nerves. 

His head lowers to watch the way your small hands grip at his own calloused ones–playfully swinging your arms left to right in unison in the small space between the two of you. His eyes soften at the sight.

“I want to hear what you guys think of my new recipes too..” you add on, shyly smiling up at Jake–silently asking if that was okay with him. 

It's a done deal. He can’t take back what he says. Not when you're staring up at him like this, looking so tooth achingly sweet in his favorite white dress that you own.

“Yeah let’s do it..” he gulps.

thank you for reading, and as always-reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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[newwritergirl]

Masterlist

Top Gun: Maverick

Starting over (ongoing)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |

Y/n once lived in hell, until she gets to know that there’s another life for her, far away from pain and tears.

Jake and Bradley living their bachelor life in a cozy house in Miramar, until a young woman and her baggage falls into their life.

TW: past abusive relationship, hurt/sick reader, angst, protective Jake and Bradley, maybe polyrelationship in the future

Chicago PD

On the brink (ongoing, not abadoned, I'm just in the flow with my Topgun fic right now)

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

When a case hits too close to home, is Jay able to keep it together or is he going to lose everything.

TW: best friend Jay, OC Lilian Grace Harper, asthma, protective Kevin, Adam and Antonio, Jay being and asshole at some time, friends to enemies to lovers, idiots in love, canon divergence!

The Rookie

The mistakes we make |one shot|

Tim Bradford x OC

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

To Be a Man - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Wife!OC (Sophie)

Word Count: 2.2k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only

Warnings: Secret Marriage; Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Mentioned Death of Minor OCs; Marriage of Convenience/Necessity; Mentions of Type 1 Diabetes; Third Person POV, Named OC kids and Wife, No Physical Descriptions of Any OCs

Summary: Hangman is married. And it’s no one else’s business.

Prologue Part 2 Part 3

Master List

A.N. Disclaimer - I don’t have Type 1 diabetes and so this is purely based off of a little research and what I’ve seen my friends with Type 1 do.

“You’re married!?”

Hangman turned around at the accusation to find the rest of the Daggers, save for Coyote, who he was talking to before they were so rudely interrupted, staring at him like he had grown a second head. He scoffed and rolled his eyes, not sure why it was any of their business.  

“Yeah, what’s it to you?”

“Who the hell are you married to?” Rooster asked, earning a condescending smirk from Hangman.

“My wife.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock.”

“Where’s your wedding ring then?” Payback questioned, leaning on the table to inspect Hangman’s left hand. “I’ve never seen you wear one around.”

“It’s on my dog tags, dipshits,” Hangman replied, pulling out the chain to show them, even though he didn’t have to do that. “That a crime?”

“Why do you flirt with other women then?” Bob inquired, sharing a look with Phoenix. “Two women gave you their numbers last night alone.”

“Did you see me calling either one of them?”

“Well . . . no, we didn’t, but—”

“—When did you get married?” Phoenix intervened, tilting her chin up and narrowing her eyes a bit. “And where is she?”

“Two years ago. And she’s driving here right now,” Hangman stated, checking his watch. Pulling out his phone, he looked up his wife’s location before turning back to the Daggers. “She’s about five minutes away, if you want to be specific.”

“She’s staying here with you?”

“For a while, yeah. Like anyone else’s spouse would,” Hangman retorted, getting a bit annoyed with all of the questions. “Why?”

“Well, we’ve got to meet Mrs. Seresin,” Rooster drawled, folding his arms across his chest. “Since we’ve heard so much about her.”

“Do you even have a picture of her?” Fanboy questioned, causing Hangman to shoot him an annoyed look.

“Yes.”

“Well, are you going to show it to us?”

“No,” Hangman snorted, shaking his head. “No, I’m not.”

The Daggers continued to list of questions that Hangman half-answered, half-gave bullshit responses, before Hangman spotted a familiar silver car rolling into the lot. Ignoring the Daggers, he set his drink down and got up from his seat, slipping around the railings on the back porch of the Hard Deck to greet his wife. Coyote was about to take a sip of his drink when he found five sets of eyes trained on him.

“I’m not telling you guys anything,” Coyote stated, shaking his head. “They’ll be here in five seconds.”

“So, you knew the whole time that Hangman was married?” Payback questioned, causing Coyote to nod in return. “And you never thought to mention that?”

“Not my business to tell.”

“Jake!” a shrill voice that definitely belonged to a little kid broke through the air.

The Daggers all quickly pivoted from Coyote to the boardwalk where a girl, probably around six, sprinted down the wooden path. Hangman picked up his pace and scooped her into his arms, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. And if the Daggers weren’t confused and befuddled before at Hangman’s personal life, they sure were now.

“He’s a dad!?”

“What the hell is he doing with a kid!? This is Hangman we’re talking about, right?”

“She called him Jake, dumbasses,” Phoenix pointed out, though she watched the interaction closely. “What kid calls their dad by their first name?”

Hangman kept walking with the girl in his arms, chatting excitedly with her. Then another kid, a boy probably three or four years old, jumped up onto the boardwalk and raced towards Hangman as well. The Daggers grew even more confused. Hangman leaned over and scooped him up like he weighed nothing, pressing a kiss to the side of the boy’s head.

A woman finally stepped out from in between two cars and pulled Jake in for a tight hug, which he tried to return as best he could with two kids in his arms. The Daggers watched their interaction like hawks but gave each other confused looks when the woman, who they presumed was Jake’s wife, pulled away with just a kiss pressed to his cheek.

“That’s his wife, right?” Rooster asked Coyote, who nodded. “They’re not that affectionate?”

“Maybe five strangers staring at them makes them a little uncomfortable,” Coyote suggested, taking a sip from his beer.

Hangman eventually led his family to the back of the Hard Deck, dreading the conversation that awaited him. Jake’s wife glanced up at the Daggers, who were clearly waiting for them, before turning to Jake. Nudging him gently with her hip, she jerked her head in the direction of his squad.

“Did you tell them anything?”

“Nope,” Jake replied, shaking his head. “Not a single thing.”

The family of four made their way up to the back deck. Setting Leila on the ground and taking her hand as they walked up the stairs, Hangman finally turned to face the stunned and even more curious Daggers. Leila hid a bit behind his leg, always a bit shy around strangers, but he rested a hand on her shoulder to remind her that he was there and that it was all alright.

“Everyone, this is my family. Family, these are the Daggers,” Hangman introduced, half-assed, earning an immediate poke in the side from his wife. Gritting his teeth slightly, Hangman restarted. “Daggers, this is Leila and this is Tyler and this is my wife, Sophie”

After Hangman introduced her, Sophie waved politely in greeting to the Daggers, who awkwardly waved back to her. Withholding an eyeroll, Hangman started on the introductions in the other direction.

“Guys, that’s Bob, Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy, Payback, and you already know Coyote,” Hangman listed off, pointing at each Dagger as he spoke.

“Javy!” Leila called, running over to greet him.

“Hey, Firecracker,” Coyote joked, picking Leila up and setting her on the stool that Hangman had been sitting on before.

From there, the awkwardness slowly dissipated. Very slowly, but it did dissipate just a bit. Leila and Tyler were running around on the back deck, laughing and stretching their legs after the long car ride down from Lemoore. Hangman had switched his beer for a water and returned from inside the bar with a drink for his wife, whose order he knew from heart.

They were in the middle of a conversation, though Hangman thought that it was bordering on an interrogation with some of the other Daggers when Sophie’s phone started to buzz with a weird ringtone. In an instant, Jake turned to where Leila and Tyler were playing.

“Tyler, come over here,” he called, causing them to stop.

Hangman picked up his wife’s phone and tapped it, causing Tyler to pout. Tyler begrudgingly trudged over to where Jake and Sophie were sitting and Jake quickly scooped him up and sat him on his lap. Meanwhile, Sophie had been rifling around in her purse, pulling out a separate bag.

“Fruit snacks or the granola bar?” his wife asked Tyler, holding out both items.

Tyler quickly leaned over and grabbed the fruit snacks before turning around to hand them to Hangman. Taking them without hesitation or delay, Hangman ripped the package open and poured the fruit snacks into his hand for Tyler, who started to slowly eat them one by one. The other Daggers seemed a bit confused, though Bob instantly recognized the situation.

“He’s Type 1?” Bob guessed, causing Sophie to nod sadly.

“Yes, he is,” she replied, checking her phone again. She showed Jake her screen, causing him to encourage Tyler to eat the remaining fruit snacks in his hand, before turning back to Bob. “You know someone with Type 1?”

“No, my dad has Type 2. My sister has the same set up on her phone,” Bob explained, causing Jake’s wife to nod slowly.

Tyler seemed a bit upset, though resigned to his situation, but Hangman did his best to try and make it enjoyable for him. Teasing Tyler for his choice in fruit snacks, hiding them and pretending to find them in random spots, and other very un-Hangman-like actions that caused most of the Daggers to grow even more confused at the situation, Hangman blocked all of that out and just focused on Tyler.

“Alright, just hang on for a second, bud,” Jake told Tyler, who clearly wanted to play again.

After they were sure that Tyler’s glucose levels were stable, Hangman set Tyler back on his own two feet. Leila, who had been chatting loudly with Coyote and Fanboy, let out a shriek and started to run after her brother again as if nothing had happened to disturb them in the first place.

“How long have you known that he has it?” Rooster asked, watching Leila and Tyler play.

“About two years now,” Sophie explained, folding her arms underneath her as she rested them on the picnic table. “He was only a couple months old when his doctor suspected something. Took some time to get an official diagnosis.”

“He doesn’t seem to let it get him down,” Payback commented, watching Tyler laugh and run around Coyote.

“No, he doesn’t,” Sophie replied with a soft smile. “He’s like my sister.”

“Your sister has Type 1 too?”

“No . . . she didn’t,” Sophie stated softly, her tone earning a few confused looks.

“Leila and Tyler are her niece and nephew,” Hangman supplied, gently resting the outside of his thigh against his wife’s own to remind her that he was there for her.

“My sister and her husband died a few years ago,” Sophie continued quietly, shifting a bit in her seat. “I got custody after they passed and after Jake and I got married, he adopted them.”

And suddenly all of the pieces were starting to fall into place.

Leila eventually came running over, asking if they could go down to the beach. Sophie got up to take them down herself, not trusting two kids who grew up in desert territory to know anything about ocean water safety. And when they were gone, all eyes fell on Hangman. After a long, drawn out sigh, he slowly narrowed his eyes at his squad mates.

“If any of you fuckers even think about going to the brass about it,” Hangman vowed, pointing menacingly over at the gathered Daggers.

“Dude, no one here is looking to take insulin from a little kid,” Fanboy stated quietly.

It wasn’t exactly uncommon for service members to get married for the benefits. And hell, you would have had to have been a completely selfish, heartless, brown-nosing government lapdog to try and get someone in trouble for making sure that a kid with a treatable condition lived happily without bankrupting his family.

“How did you meet your wife then? You knew her before the kids’ parents died?”

“Yeah. We were in a long term . . . situation-ship at the time,” Hangman recalled, earning familiar looks from his teammates. “And she told me that it was a lot to handle and she didn’t expect me to hang around, especially because I was deployed at the time. I came back home to visit her and saw how stressed she looked—she was crying, Tyler was still in the hospital at that point, Leila was barely talking . . .” Jake trailed off, a dark expression coming over his face. “I didn’t think. I just told her to marry me and I’d get it figured out. And I did. They live up with me in Lemoore now.”

“And you guys have an open relationship?” Rooster guessed, earning a sharp glare from Hangman immediately.

“No,” Jake replied bluntly.

“Not even a little?” Rooster asked, alluding to Hangman’s flirtatious personality.

“No,” Hangman stated, folding his arms in front of him. “We’re not.”

“But you’re not in love, are you?”

“That’s complicated,” Jake responded, loosening his posture a bit sheepishly.

“Yes, they are,” Coyote called back, earning a look from Hangman.

“Yes, they are what?” Sophie called out, strolling forward with Leila and a soaked Tyler beside her.

“What happened?” Jake asked, standing up from the table.

“Leila thought that it would be funny to push her brother into the ocean,” Sophie returned, shooting her niece a look. “She thought wrong.”

“He kept pulling on me!” Leila whined, stomping her foot on the ground. “I told him to stop! And he didn’t listen!”

“Well, that’s no reason to try to drown him. Go, sit on the bench right there. Now,” she ordered, causing Leila to huff but follow her order.

“I’ll take him,” Jake offered, walking forward to grab a soaked Tyler from his spot next to Sophie. “Come on, Ty, let’s get you dry.”

Jake reached out his hand for the keys, which his wife handed over without even a look in his direction. It was that smooth, that natural. Jake held Tyler, who had started to shiver despite the warmth, in his arms, not caring in the slightest that some of the ocean water was now soaking his own clothes. Coyote seemed rather amused at the shocked expressions on his teammate’s faces, which Jake blatantly ignored as he strolled away.

“What?” Sophie asked, spotting their confused expressions.

“Nothing,” they all echoed back to her.

Prologue Part 2 Part 3

[withahappyrefrain]

this one is so cute! 🍂🍁🍃

A stands in a queue when they notice a leaf stuck in the hair/on the clothes of the person in front of them. They offer to remove it for them.

for bob and maeve?

AHHHH so excited to start writing for these two! And of course I had to bring in Bradley and Birdie! ❤️❤️ Enjoy!

Fall in San Diego was different. By the time October started rolling, the average temperature had cooled down to a ‘crisp’ seventy degrees. Chunky sweaters were traded in for light cardigans. Sure, you could wear a scarf, but not a functional one. Gone were the days of needing gloves.

It was a stark difference from the east coast.

Gone was the scenic view of mountains and orchards. In its place were micro-breweries and overpriced wineries. But also gone was a shitty ex husband. In its place, the unknown.

At least the farmer markets here still sold apple butter.

It was a consolidation prize for Maeve. She was forever grateful that Nora wanted to show her around, but that also meant third wheeling for Nora and her fiancé. Worse, they were sickeningly in love. She had never been so happy for her best friend, but also so fucking jealous at the same time.

So she would enjoy these last few moments, while Nora was trying to find her partner amidst the crowd. They tried to not make her feel bad, but being around them reminded Maeve how alone she had become.

Wait, did that guy have a leaf on his back?

Upon squinting her hazel eyes, she saw that man standing in front of her did in fact, have a leaf on the back of his plaid shirt.

Should she- oh thank God, he was reaching for it. Now Maeve wouldn't have to look at it while standing in line.

Nope. Despite his long arms, the leaf had wedged itself in a place where he couldn't reach. Oh God, was she going to have to watch him struggle the whole time?

Wanting to save her sanity outweighed her dislike of talking to strangers.

"I can get it for you, the leaf. If you want?"

He turned around to reveal a face that made her heart flutter. Bright blue eyes, bluer than the ocean. Tortoiseshell glasses that framed his face. Sunkissed hair, tousled in waves. A button nose that brought a sense of sweetness to him. A smattering of faded freckles, no doubt from hours upon hours of being out in the sun.

"Could you? That would be great, otherwise it's gonna bother me all day?" His voice was smooth as whiskey, a rural upbringing lacing his words.

But what was most astounding was his smile. The way his thin pink lips contorted to form a small, slightly crooked smile. The creases that formed around his oceanic eyes, showing years of smiles and laughter.

God, he just looked kind. The type that Maeve always wondered what it would be like to have. To see first thing in the morning and the last thing when she closed her eyes at night.

"M'am?" It didn't come across as condescending, it was actually charming. It was also said in such a deep vibrato that Maeve to snap out of whatever the fuck those last two minutes was.

It's been three months, for fuck sake's Maeve.

Why would he even be interested in you?

This is why you're a twenty-eight year old divorceé.

Maeve nodded as she mentally scolded herself, "Absolutely, not a problem."

Bob turned around, despite not wanting to. He would rather focus on the umber curls that framed her face. Or the way shades of hickory and green swirled together in her eyes. His favorite had to be how her eyes squinted when she smiled. His mother would call that as having 'smiley eyes' when he was a child.

Jesus Christ, we're really desperate now.

It wouldn't end well for you anyways. Never does.

That's why you're thirty-four and still single, Robert.

So in a way, he was grateful to turn around, as it was a chance to get himself together.

That lasted for maybe ten seconds. Bob couldn't tell if touch was incredibly gentle or if she wasn't touching him. So he turned his head, catching her reaching out.

The eye contact made Maeve freeze for a beat or two. Once Bob flashed her that sweet smile, she found the strength to continue, internally marveling at how soft his shirt felt.

He must use fabric softener. Maybe he attends this market regularly. Maybe-

It's been three months.

Yes, three months since the document was signed and it was made official legally. But the acceptance of a unsustainable marriage had occured a year ago.

She held up the leaf for effect, "You want to keep it as memorabilia?"

Bob chuckled, making Maeve feel warm all over, as if she had just drank mulled cider, "No, no, I think I'm good. But I'd love to buy that for you as a way to say thanks."

This time it was her turn to shake her head, "Oh, it was nothing! Just a leaf." Bob noticed that when she shook her head, the curls that had fallen over his forehead shook slightly.

God, she was adorable. Absolutely, completely endearing.

"Yeah, but that would have bothered me the whole time I was with my friends. I wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else," he grinned, "Plus you had no issue talking to a complete stranger. That's gotta be commended."

A laugh escapes from her rosey lips, "I usually hate talking to strangers." Fuck, why would you even say that?

If he found it odd, the handsome stranger didn't visibly or vocally show it, "Yeah, I'm not a huge fan of that either. Again, gotta be commended."

She looked down at the jar of apple butter, "It would be faster if you paid for mine. I'm meeting some friends too."

"Happy to serve," the unintentional pun about his career was lost on her. At least he could bring it up to Mickey, who would get a good laugh out of it. And his wife Cielo too. And then they would probably do something sweet, like kiss while holding hands, unintentionally reminding Bob how utterly alone it felt coming home from work every day.

Their hands brushed against one another when Maeve transferred the jar to Bob. He turned around, partly to see if he needed to step forward, partly to hide the smile on his face.

Had he turned around, he would have seen the same smile on her face. One that was full of excitement, felt for the first time in years. Just like him.

Eventually, he looked back, this time mainly to see if his friends were amidst the crowd of shoppers.

He felt the need to explain, out of fear of coming across as creepy, "My friend went looking for his fiancé. She's bringing her best friend."

What a coincidence, Nora's fiancé was bringing a friend too.

Yeah, to help you feel less shitty about always being their third wheel.

"Well does your friend have any idea where his fiancé could be?" Maeve asked as Bob paid for the two jars of apple butter.

"Oh yeah, Birdie's first stop is always the Takyaki stand," Bob paused, "Birdie isn't her real name, it's just-"

"Do you mean Nora?" Maeve's voice was now timid. Blood rushing through her veins, wondering if it was too good to be true.

Bob stopped in his tracks, brows knitting together, "How do you know her name?"

Before Maeve could explain, two new voices interrupted.

"Bob?" "Maeve?"

Turning around revealed Nora (who many referred to as 'Birdie'), who was holding the hand of her fiancé, Bradley (who at work was referred to as 'Rooster').

Bob and Maeve turned their attention back to one another, realization hitting like a brick wall.

He's the kindest guy I know. You'll love him.

She's honestly just the sweetest. It's a damn shame what happened.

They're like you. They've been through similar shit.

"You're Maeve?" He had a long finger pointed at her (God his hands were huge) but it wasn't accusing.

Maeve felt at ease, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she nodded, her eyes creasing due to her smile.

There were those smiley eyes that made his knees weak.

"I am and you're Bob? Just Bob, right? No totally random, work nickname?" With anyone else, it would have been demeaning. A few years ago, Bob would have taken offense.

But his shoulders were feeling lighter these days thanks to the past actually staying in its namesake more often.

"Well, my full name is Robert. I have some family who call me Rob, some call me Robby but that's because I gave them explicit permission to do so, not everyone reaches that level. And then some of my friends call me Bobby. So in terms of work nickname, you're correct, it's not totally random." His eyes were so expressive, it was memorizing to watch.

Charming. He was actually charming.

"Well, I think having multiple nicknames that are based off of your actual name is better than having one and it's a children's game or bird," she turned her head to flash a smile, "No offense Bradley."

Bradley, who was used to her strong opinions on call signs and now only a foot away, simply rolled his eyes, "No offense taken Maeve. But we do call him Bagman, remember?"

A coy smile spread across her face, something Bob found so endearing.

"So you two....know each other?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow. She swears she would have remembered her best friend meeting one of her fiancé's best work friends.

"We actually just met. Maeve saved me from an afternoon of trying to reach a spot on my back to get rid of a leaf," Bob explained, gently putting his hand on Maeve's shoulder. His touch was pleasant, considerate even.

"Bob got me some apple butter as a thank you," Maeve held up the jar while looking down, hoping no one would notice the rosy hue that was spreading across her face.

"Which, I assume is to make your famous cinnamon sugar apple butter pie?" Bob now turned to her, his eyes lit up with excitement.

Catching her confused expression, Bob jumped in, "When you left a pie after visiting Birdie, Bradley brought in leftovers. It was a huge hit, I still think about it."

Charlie always had an issue with whatever she cooked. Too salty. Not healthy babe. Why are you even making that?

But Charlie wasn't here. He was on the east coast, no doubt trying to find another gullible person to invest in one of his bullshit 'ideas'.

Instead there was Bob, who had a sparkle in his eyes. Who had not only heard about you, but remembered details too.

God, the bar was so fucking low.

Meanwhile, Bob hadn't thought about Cassie once since meeting the curly, raven haired woman with the most adorable smile he had ever seen.

"Well, given the lack of a paper bag in Nora's hand, I'd say it's time we head to the Hog Haven stand and get some breakfast sandwiches," Maeve suggested, hoping it would turn the attention away from her.

"Absolutely! I know Bob wanted to stop by the pickling stand for Sauerkraut and that's on the way!" Nora grabbed Bradley's hand, and walked forward, leaving Bob and Maeve to walk side by side.

Almost as if it was planned that way.

"What's the Sauerkraut for?" Maeve asked, secretly noticing how he slowed his stride to match hers.

"I'm making Bigos. It means 'Hunter Stew' in Polish. My mom made it for me and my siblings all the time growing up. She's back in Wisconsin, and since it's finally 'cooled down' here, figured it was a good time to make it."

Bob can't remember the last time he felt this talkative to someone new. Usually it takes hours, sometimes even multiple outings for him to warm up. And that was if he liked the person's company.

It took him two months to warm up to Jake.

But something about Maeve had him talking a mile a minute. Even Bradley had turned around to raise his eyebrows at how much Bob was talking. He had to be careful; the last thing he needed was to be in the same situation he was in six years ago.

"I'm not super familiar with Polish food- other than bagels and pierogi's- but I'd like to learn more about it," her voice was sweet, albeit slightly reserved. Not wanting to appear too eager, or insinuate anything.

"I have a whole box of recipes from my mom and Aunts and Grandma. I can bring it next time-" He paused. No, don't assume. Never assume. "I can pass it on to Bradley who can give it to Birdie. Whichever you prefer."

"We can leave y'all to talk to each other if you want!" Bradley called out before turning his attention back to Nora.

"I have a feeling this won't be the last time we see each other. Not if those two lovebirds have anything to say about it." Her comment brought out a laugh in Bob, which in turn caused a big smile to break out across Maeve's face.

"Glad I'm not the only one who calls them that. Everyone else says it's too cheesy." "Well, those people have no love or appreciation for puns. Luckily for you Robby, I do."

He didn't correct her. In fact, he liked how the name sounded coming from her pink lips.

"Maybe we can keep talking about puns and recipes while they," Bob pointed to Bradley and Nora, who were currently holding hands and exchanging (what they thought to be) sneaky kisses, "Are themselves."

"So they act this way around you too?" Maeve's eyes lit up, relieved she wasn't the only one who had to deal with the most sickeningly sweet couple on the planet, "Being a third wheel with them is rough."

The two had now stopped at the pickles goods stand, ignoring their friends who had invited them out.

"I think it's going well! I never saw her smile this much with Charlie," Nora whispered excitedly, unable to take her green eyes off of Maeve and Bob.

"I'd say so," Bradley looked at Nora, not needing to see that his friend was talking to Maeve with a gleam in his blue eyes, a rare sight, "You know it's not going to happen overnight, right?"

"I'm aware. But I think they're off to a good start," Nora grinned. The sight of her best friend, looking the happiest she's seen in the past year, kept her bounce on her toes.

Bob and Maeve were indeed, off to a good start.

[sophs-writing-nook]

Mustang

Mustang and Hangman have had sexual tension since the night they met at the Hard Deck at the start of a high-risk assignment. Each interaction further solidifies your callsign in the best ways.

Learning from the Best

Caledonia ‘Cali’ Hughes has always put romance on the back burner. With getting through her biochemistry graduate program at UC San Diego and many relationships that failed before they could start, she has always viewed true romance and sex alike as treasures that were never for her to experience. Turns out a job at the Hard Deck and an eavesdropping, emerald-eyed pilot offering his ‘expertise’ lets her learn from the best, and, most importantly, that she has always been worthy of such treasures.

Most of Freedom and Of Pleasure Part II

Hangman and Cherry have never been able to be in the same room as the other without nearly ripping each other's throats out. Hangman provides a solution that provides her a sense of freedom and pleasure that she begins to crave.

Vending Machine Glow on Route 79

Before leaving for college, you and Jake say goodbye in more ways than one on the last night of your cruel summer. 

Sliding Stops & Beating Hearts

Tyler Owens has worked almost his entire life for this moment. And he’s so glad he gets to share it with you. 

Spices, Trauma, and Haircuts

An exploration of why Bucky Barnes decided to cut his hair.

[jackiequick]

You’re just jealous [Jake x Amber]

Jake Seresin x Amber Kazansky fic

Top Gun Maverick AU, TGM x OC, Hangman x OC & etc

Continuing of the last fics

Warning: Fluff, Angst, two full blown total idiots in love who want to just kiss each other and a few misspelled words haha. Sorry if it’s kinda long tho <3

Jake was always a simple man with a plan and sometimes his plans get two huge, even sometimes worsens the ego he hate to admit he has. The man doesn’t even realize when it happens, especially when it involves a lucky lady he’s attractive to. When he feels that toothy grin creeping up on his face, he just know he’s got it bad for you. So imagine what happens when his plans for a simple return to Top Gun and become possibly a frontline teammate gets throw off course due to the young blonde woman who he met two days ago at the bar becomes an interesting target to keep an eye for while his time here? It’s difficult!

Especially with him knowing she hasn’t just caught his eye but plenty of his so called teammates! More importantly his friend Coyote and Rooster. Hangman wouldn’t say he’s jealous but it clear that he wanted her to notice him just as much as Amber is noticing them. Currently he’s sitting nears a table against the wall glancing up at Amber laughing to something Rooster said, touching each other’s arms, being all sweet and charming with each other. At the same time another young woman came up to the pair, who he recognized as Mitchell walking past them catching Rooster’s eye as he run to catch up with her, not before hugging Amber goodbye. Jake even noted the sigh that escaped her lips once Rooster left her alone in the hallway.

Hangman eyes widen and muttered, “Oh so now he has two woman under his radar?! Just pick one, god damn it! Hell next thing you know, he will be after me next!” Jake kept mumbling about this thoughts as more came into focus, hating how much he was getting fumed over this. It was simple, he wanted one girl, and that was Skysolo, he just needed to impressed but still couldn’t fight off this feeling of this Bradshaw jealousy. So he decided he was gonna use it against him with the newfound information he got with Coyote earlier. He didn’t even noticed the said one woman came into his view until she cleared her voice, “Uhhh, hello?”

She saw the way Hangman snapped out of gaze from looking out into the hallway up to her eyes with a soft smile that laced his lips. God, she can stare at those lips, most importantly his eyes for days on end, she wouldn’t lie when she said she had a crush on the pilot. Her father and uncle always said, ‘Dating a pilot is a rough business, sweetheart. They are tough, get jealous especially with their ego getting in the way and they don’t always stay in one place. Yet they are charming, gentle and sweet.’ So hell yeah, Amber Nic was all in to risk her heart for Hangman. Jake took a moment to respond, “Hey darlin’…h-how are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Just collecting notes for today’s session. You arrived early.” She smiled taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah I decided why not come early and get a good seat for the show. Where would you be seat, my dear?”

She blushed slightly at the nickname, leaning into his shoulder, “.. huh? Maybe I’ll be seated right up front to notice all of you.”

“You can sit next to me.” He replies, gently slipping his hand onto of her giving it a gentle squeeze.

“And Coyote?”

“He will be seated on my left side.”

“Hmmmmm I’ll think about it.”

They noticed how alone they were at the moment. Jake decided to take a chance and ask her out before anyone else got the chance to do. He cleared his throat, “Hey i know we just met..a few days ago and your the big boss’s daughter. B-but I’ll um, I’ll like to take you out something. Dinner and a walk by the beach?”

She smiled rose filled cheeks and nodded loving the idea, “I’ll love that, sweetheart. Maybe if your lucky, tomorrow night? I’ll be free.”

“And if today goes well..can we get a teased for tomorrow night?”

“Let’s see how it goes first, Hangman.”

“Alright, Miss Skysolo.”

And just like that, class started with Maverick teaching and Amber taking notes to send later to Iceman and the rest of the chiefs, keeping an eye on the aviators skills. As training went back and forth in and out of the classroom. The sessions was long and tedious but worth it, hell Amber even got to fly in one of the planes for betterment of her reports. That was until the team broke off, refusing to work as a unit and learn the main lesson from the beginning of this mission. Even worse, Jake dropped a bombshell that fired her up as Maverick yelled to focus and knock it off. Jake turned to Bradley smirking wanting paybacks for the looks and ways he’s been acting during training, especially with the woman in charge.

He decided now was a moment to rile him up, “This is comeback son! Anyone in this room can see itself, a man like Maverick files with ease and confidence but this mission is nothing he ever seen before.”

Rooster scoffed, “What’s supposed to mean? I know I’m flying my best and doing whatever need to done around.”

“Yeah even playing teacher’s pet. I’ve seen the strong looks you give to Skysolo and Maverick here! High chance it won’t go anywhere playing favorites on the field.”

“You got a problem Hangman, take it outside! I am no teachers pet and they aren’t treating me any different from you.”

He scoffed letting out a drawl, “Cute. But let’s be real, it’s no surprise Maverick used to fly with Rooster’s old man. And how his old man was friends with Amber’s old man, so of course you want something out of it.”

Maverick tried cutting him off telling him to knock it off and Amber stayed silent fuming, turning not piercing ice cold but like a fiery hit that would keep you solo in the skies without any air to breathe. “Hangman, Rooster that’s enough!” She shouted loudly but without a second to separate the conversation both men argument grew and punches were ready to be thrown out having everyone up front, even her, trying to separated both men. It went as far as a solid elbow in the chest being thrown from Amber herself onto both men who stumbled backwards. No one expected it as Maverick dismissed everyone. Bradley running off finding a familiar face in the hallways right before seeing Amber who glared at him.

She huffed, “Seriously?!”

“You heard what he said?! We all did!” He growled.

“He was just being a jerk about it.”

“Did you tell him or anyone about that?”

“Of course not! I kept that secret under lock and key, we all did. Bradley..Rooster i love you and your my friend, i would never say anything that hurt you. You know that…”

He sighed rubbing his face, “Yeah..your right. Sorry. It’s just, Hangman doesn’t change and never does. His ego is huge…”

“..most pilot’s egos are hugely impacted and impulsive. You go calm down and I’ll handle this..”

Just then, Jenny Mitchell ran up to the pair yelling gently, “I heard what happened from down the hall! The shouting was..something else. You two alright?” She looked at them with concern written over her face squeezing Rooster’s hand and smiles at Skysolo. They nodded.

Rooster walked away with Jenny holding his hand gently onto a space far away from the classroom to talk, Amber on the other hand stormed off finding Hangman sitting outside the building on a bench, head on his hand bitting his lip. The heat was in the air. She sat down next to him, “You. Are. In. Big. Trouble. Lieutenant.”

He looked up at her, leaning back bitting his lips and running a hand though his hair. “I screwed up. But i know I’m right.”

“Oh god..”

“Rooster isn’t cut out for this mission! I am! Not him! He’s playing stupidly the teachers pet card and has history with Maverick and it is clear as day he can’t focus up there for shit. He has this head up in the clouds and fear is gonna come bitting him in the ass if he doesn’t focus.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Bullshit?! You know I’m right, Amber! Come on!”

“Of course you are playing that card! Maverick and Rooster got history, Jake. I can’t explain it and tell you, even if I tried. Yes you got a point about him freaking out up there but there is something else…what is it?”

“I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Something else is eating you up when it comes to Rooster, what is it?!” She stood saying the last part.

He looked away taking a bite out of his cheek and looked up at her, “It’s nothing. I’m just pissed off that..that’s all!”

“Just say it! What are you? Jealous?!”

“Ha! Jealous of what?! Who?!”

“ROOSTER! BRADSHAW! Are you jealous of him?”

It was his turn to stand up huffing, “I. Am. Not. Jealous! Especially not of freaking Bradshaw! ”

She scoffed half smiling and sighed shaking her head, “You’re just jealous of him! When you clearly shouldn’t be when you are just as good! Even better in the skies than he is!”

“How do you know that?! You don’t even know half it!”

“Cause I read your files, stupid! You fly just as good, matter a fact just as great to navigate a plane like your instructor or even my father, you could be legendary if you wanted to, but you are being held back by jealousy that you should not even be feeling!”

The tension was rising and feelings were beating each other roughly. Jake was completely taken back by her words and the potential he sees in her, knowing she might not be able to say that in there because of her role to this mission. Damn, she cares and so does he. He stood there looking down at her like a deer in headlights in awe of her expression and sighed, still angry but now less.

He saw the fire in her eyes and he could’ve said that he found seriously hot but he was half scared of a slap to the face. “Damn..anything else?” He merely said getting closer, his chest puffing staring down at her lips.

“Are you jealous of him..?” She asked getting even closer, staring up into his glossy eyes.

“A bit. Yeah I am. It’s all because of you.”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you! The way Rooster looks at you..it makes me jealous, okay. Because i look at you the same way…i-i can’t believe I’m saying this…I want you, damn it!

Amber bite the inside of her cheek, “..I-I um..ugh damn it Hangman. You just made it worse.”

His eyes widened, “Why?! How did I make it worse?”

“Because I want you too, god damn it! I wanted you the first day i saw you!”

“So why didn’t you say anything me?!”

“Because i thought you didn’t want me back or even cared to think of me that way!”

“Well shit…you were the first woman to make me excited and interested in seeing someone at the same time, because now i did want you! I think I have feeling for you!..I can’t believe I just said that out loud..”

It’s like the world gone silent for her, for both of them. They’re ears were hot and heavy, both chests huffing high, the pair stood even closer to each other barley a inch away from holding each other’s hand. She stepped back and thought for moment, ‘Hangman got feelings for me?!’

It wasn’t what she was expecting from him, at all. Hell he wasn’t expecting to say that out loud himself. But she responded anyway, “If you want me, Jake. Really want me as much i as I do. Then prove it. But don’t go storming in that room fighting against him or your teammates…cause…because you already had me…I said yes to that date, remember!”

“Yeah i do, of course I remember that and I’m glad I finally did ask you..but i just had to prove to Bradshaw and to myself back there…I’m so stupid..oh god..” He said, hating to admit him looking down at her.

“You already have and you didn’t have to prove it anyone expect yourself that what we have so far, is worth my time..”

“...damn..now i see why you were chosen for the job, you see a lot in people..darlin’ how do i prove it? Because you are worth my time..”

“I-i..just…be the charming, sweet, fumbling guy that made me smile from day one…”

He broke into a slow smile hearing that, “You think I’m charming?”

“Oh my god.” She said rolling her eyes, half smiling then walked away onto the streets to her car.

Hangman yelled from his spot like a complete idiot with a sigh, “Hey! A-Hold on darlin’ we can talk!”

“I’m still mad at you for what you did today, but at the same time i swear I could kiss you right now...” She shouted hallway down the street, with him following behind her.

“Please do, kiss me..!” He now half smiled saying that, deep down still feeling bad, “..only if and when it feels right…”

“No, I mean I don’t care how bad I want you, after what happened I don’t know what to think…I still care, I really do!”

“You ain’t the only one who’s upset here, Amber! So am i, but I can’t stand here and not say that I’m dying to kiss you..and I’m sorry for what I did..”

“I-i know you are, whatever it is that is going on between us or anything will have to wait. Got it?” She yelled turning back at him pointing around, “How we feel right now, it doesn’t make up for that stunt.”

“You’re right, yeah our first kiss or whatever will have to wait! But i will wait until the storm leaves..but you should know i am very sorry..I’m sorry okay, i was a total jerk! I screwed up because i was trying to impress you..What do you want me to do about it?” He yelled back admitting to his second mistake.

“Um..just change your behavior for tomorrow please, that’s all I’m asking for now, it will be a new day and we will see, if we make it to that date tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow is a new day..I will make it up to you! I promise…”

“..we will see about that. Bye, Jake.”

She heading down the street as her anger melted away hearing all of this. Amber rolled her eyes, figuring out at that moment how much a handful her favorite Lieutenant really was, he has become something else over the days, you can only start hoping what tomorrow must hold. Jake ran off to tell Javy everything he could about what happened and wondering how his southern romantic, so called now charming side can fix this. He knew he screwed up big time and made a few mistakes but there are always options for certain better things to happen.

Arriving to her car, she sighed looking at the dashboard, looking out at the horizon checking her phone to see missed calls and text messages from her father and uncle knowing she will need to respond tonight. Maverick needed to find a way to turn this shit around sooner or later, make this team into an actual one. She texted him as the two of them came up with a plan worthy of bringing this crew of individuals into one clear unit.

Amber went home to speak with her father who was waiting for her in his office. Iceman stayed in his office until she came home, moments like this he didn’t talk too much due to being tired. But he still made the effort to do so.

“There you are dad…” She said and before she could say another line she read the screen on the computer. It read ‘Maverick told me all about it. Especially the fight. We can turn this around with a few team activities.’

She smiled, “How does a day on the beach for everyone sound?”

This time he response using his strong solid voice, “Sounds perfect.”

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoy the story so far <3 Did you like it? Tell me what did you think about. ;)

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @t-nd-rfoot @eagerforthesky @mandylove1000 @topgun-imagines @mcbident @raphroseybeanpie @yetanotherwells @happilycameron @msrochelleromanofffelton @gcthvile @rooster-84 and etc

[thewulf]

Wingman's Gambit || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - idk if you’re taking requests rn, but if you are would you mind doing a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x FemaleBradshawPilot!Reader? where she’s Roosters younger twin sister and he’s really protective over her. anything else included is up to you! i really enjoy your writing!!

A/N: So sorry about the inconsistent posting. Summer is just doing the summer thing! I made Roosters sister a WSO for the stories sake :) Enjoy!

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.6k+

T/W : Arguing (With roos)

From your first initial brief encounters with Jake "Hangman" Seresin you gathered enough to understand why his reputation for bravado was almost as well-known as his flying prowess. Despite his cockiness, Hangman always treated you with an unexpected kindness and respect that stood out. Particularly in contrast to his usual smugness. Each interaction, though brief, hinted at a depth beneath the showy exterior which intrigued you more than you had ever anticipated. Especially since you knew how your brother, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw felt about the man… how most pilots felt about him actually.

Now, as you stepped onto the prestigious grounds of Top Gun, it's not just as any recruit. You stepped on as a newly minted WSO. The best of the best elite navigators and tactical hearts behind some of the best pilots in the navy. Here, your brother, has already made a name for himself. He was not just a skilled pilot but a protector, especially where you're concerned. The dynamic at Top Gun shifted perceptibly with your arrival. Rooster, your twin and lifelong guardian, watched over you with a hawk’s vigilance. His protectiveness dialed to its peak amidst the competitive pressures of the academy.

The air crackles with a palpable tension as you walk past the rows of gleaming aircraft with Rooster at your side. Hangman caught sight of you both. The easy grin he typically wears shifts into something more measured though his greeting remains warm and inviting. The rivalry between him and Rooster is well-known and your presence as a WSO—not just Rooster’s sister but a tactical force in your own right—adds a new layer to the already charged atmosphere.

During the initial briefings and training sessions you quickly sensed the underlying tension between Hangman and Rooster. Rooster’s protectiveness was palpable. His demeanor shifting subtly whenever Hangman interacted with you. Despite this though you were determined to carve out your own path, proving your skills in the high-stakes environment of Top Gun and navigating the complex dynamics of friendship, rivalry, and the unspoken rules of engagement.

Your journey at Top Gun was set against the backdrop of supersonic jets and tactical challenges where every decision could tip the delicate balance between personal loyalties and professional duties. With Hangman’s occasional flares of interest and Rooster’s watchful eyes your tenure at the academy was bound to be as thrilling as it was challenging.

First Strike

The debriefing room is abuzz as you and the other members of your squadron file in after a challenging flight simulation exercise. As a WSO your role in today’s mission had been crucial. You managed the weapons systems with precision and played a key part in the team's success. The large screens at the front of the room flicker to life as you set down next to Phoenix. It began showing replays of key moments from the exercise.

Maverick who was your teacher and was overseeing the debriefing, commands the room with an authoritative ease. He walks everyone through various segments of the mission, pausing on a particular maneuver — your maneuver — that had decisively shifted the tide in your squadron's favor.

As the replay highlights your actions, Hangman, usually reserved with his commendations speaks out, “I think we ought to acknowledge the sharp tactics from our WSOs today, particularly Ducky,” he begins, capturing the room’s attention and staring right at you. “Her decisions out there were nothing short of critical. Maybe she should take the lead in coordinating our next sim, see what else she's got up her sleeve.”

Your call sign, Ducky, came as naturally as any others and the irony of it being avian themed wasn’t lost on you. One afternoon after a particularly challenging flight where you demonstrated remarkable agility and finesse your fellow WSO jokingly commented that you were "ducking and weaving like a little duckling out there." The room erupted in laughter, and the name instantly clicked. Despite the initial intention of a light tease, the call sign Ducky resonated, symbolizing not only your ability to maneuver with exceptional ease but also your connection to a family known for their distinctive and memorable contributions to the aviation world.

The suggestion by Jake though seems to take the room by surprise, including Maverick, who raises an eyebrow. He was clearly intrigued by this unexpected praise from Hangman. His interest is evident with a slight smile tugging at his lips as he considers the potential of Hangman’s proposal.

Rooster, however, reacts differently. He doesn't speak. He doesn't need to. His expression tightens, a clear sign of annoyance flashing across his features as he shifts uncomfortably. The protective brother who was always wary of Hangman’s intentions towards you is on edge though he chooses to remain silent. His demeanor speaks incredible volumes though.

Maverick picks up on the tension but chooses to redirect the conversation tactfully. “Interesting point, Hangman. We’ll consider all suggestions. Great work today, everyone, especially our WSO team. Let’s keep the momentum going,” he concludes tactfully before moving the debriefing forward but with a thoughtful look that lingers on you a moment longer, pondering the new dynamics unfolding within his team. With you and Hangman particularly.

After the debriefing concludes the room gradually empties as pilots and WSOs disperse, discussing the day's outcomes and upcoming assignments. You’re gathering your notes when you sense a presence beside you. Hangman leans casually against the table with his hands tucked into his flight suit pockets. That usual mischievous glint in his eyes was showing through as he waited on you.

“Hey, Ducky. Good job today,” Hangman starts, his voice low enough for just the two of you amidst the dispersing crowd. “I wasn’t just blowing smoke in there. You really do have a knack for this.”

“Thanks, Hangman. Just trying to make sure you’re not the only hotshot around here,” you quip with a playful smirk, acknowledging his compliment but keeping the tone light and spirited.

Hangman’s grin widens and he nods towards the doorway where Rooster is lingering. He was clearly waiting for you but doing a poor job of hiding his irritation. “You know, I think your brother might actually laser-beam me with his eyes if he tries any harder,” Hangman murmurs. His voice a conspiratorial whisper that tickles the edge of your ear.

You glance over at Rooster and caught the unmistakable scowl etched across his face. “Yeah, he’s not your biggest fan right now,” you admit while feeling a mix of amusement and familial loyalty tug at you.

Hangman chuckles himself while shaking his head. “Well, if he starts throwing punches you’ll cover me, right? I mean, who’s going to lead the next sim if I’m out of commission?”

His joke eases the tension a bit and you nod, playing along. “I’ll do my best but no promises if he’s really got his heart set on it,” you quip back. Your voice light, teasing.

As you both share a laugh Rooster finally approaches, his steps measured, his expression softening just a touch as he nears. Hangman straightens up while giving you a quick, conspiratorial wink before stepping back to afford you and Rooster some space.

“Ready to go?” Rooster asks, his voice a careful neutral.

“Yeah, just about,” you respond before casting a final smile at Hangman who shoots you a mock-salute and heads off leaving a trace of warmth and a promise of more lighthearted banter for another day.

As Hangman strides away with a confident flick of his hand in farewell Rooster steps closer, his expression serious. “Just be careful with him, alright?” he mutters as his eyes tracked Hangman's departure.

You nod, suppressing the urge to roll your eyes which you let slip anyway as soon as Rooster looks away. “I know, I know. Don’t worry so much,” you reply, keeping your voice light to diffuse any further concern. Despite his protective instincts you're not about to let that dictate your interactions. Not even with someone as notoriously charming as Hangman.

Second Wind

The Hard Deck is buzzing tonight. It was filled with the lively chatter and clinking glasses of Top Gun’s finest unwinding after a week of rigorous training. You’re in the midst of a heated pool game against Payback and the stakes are humorously high. As you line up your shot, the cue ball snapping crisply against your target you sunk it smoothly into the corner pocket. The small crowd od pilots and WSO’s around the pool table lets out a mixture of cheers and groans.

Hangman is the loudest. His voice booming over the others as he claps enthusiastically. “Atta girl, Ducky! Show him how it’s done!” he shouts. The grin evident in his voice. As you straighten up he steps forward while offering you a high-five that lingers just a moment too long. His hand warm and firm against yours. Your smile broadens and a laugh escapes you, fueled by the excitement of the game and the infectious energy of Hangman’s support. Around you the others cheer on, but you catch a glimpse of Rooster at the bar. His glass is halfway to his lips but he’s not drinking. He’s watching. His expression is unreadable, but the set of his jaw and the slight narrowing of his eyes speak volumes.

As the game continues Hangman stays close, his cheers punctuating each of your successful shots. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline with each shout. Not just from the game but also from the attention he’s giving you. It’s fun, it's exhilarating, and it’s something you’ve found yourself looking forward to more often than not.

“You’re killing it, Ducky! Payback’s gonna need a consolation prize after this!” Hangman jests from beside the table. His tone teasing but not without a touch of pride.

Glancing over at Rooster again you notice the slight clench of his fist around his glass, his gaze lingering a moment too long on you and Hangman. It’s clear he’s less than thrilled about the growing camaraderie between you two. He was seeing Hangman’s overt praises as more than just friendly support. Despite the fun atmosphere you can’t shake the awareness of Rooster’s protective instincts flaring up, perhaps seeing Hangman’s enthusiasm as a challenge to his role as your guardian.

The banter between you and Hangman grows more spirited as the evening progresses. Each witty exchange draws laughter from the onlookers and adds a spark to the already electric atmosphere of the Hard Deck. “Careful Payback, she’s got more tricks up her sleeve than I've got maneuvers!” Hangman teases loudly, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you line up another winning shot.

“Yeah, and all of them are better than yours,” you retort without missing a beat. The cue stick hitting the ball with a satisfying click as it sends it hurtling into the pocket.

The growing crowd gets into another round of cheers and Hangman’s laughter joins yours, filling the room with an infectious joy. You can’t help but revel in the blissfulness of it all. The ease of the exchange making the night all the more enjoyable.

From the corner of your eye though you see Rooster pushing away from the bar. His demeanor shifting from protective observer to active participant. Without a word he strides over to the piano in the corner of the room. The conversations around you dim as Rooster’s fingers begin to dance across the keys. That familiar tune that you both loved as kids filling the room.

You can’t help but laugh while shaking your head at Rooster’s not-so-subtle way of stealing the spotlight. “Show-off,” you mutter under your breath though the affection in your voice is clear.

Hangman leans closer, his voice low and amused. “Looks like someone’s trying to remind us he’s still the king of cool around here.”

You lean in too, matching his conspiratorial tone with a playful sparkle in your eye. “You know, I think he’s just trying to draw my attention away from a certain someone,” you say winking subtly at Hangman. “But honestly? I’d rather stay here and chat, just to annoy him a bit more.”

Hangman’s grin widens at that. His eyes lighting up with delight. “Oh, is that so?” he chuckles, clearly enjoying the game. “Well in that case, I’m more than happy to provide all the distraction you need.”

The playful exchange hangs between you, adding a layer of light-hearted flirtation to the evening. Rooster’s piano playing becomes a soft background melody to your continued conversation. Each note a subtle reminder of the familial ties that weave through your interactions. Yet, amidst the laughter and music, there’s a thrill in the air. A shared amusement that only adds to the night’s charm, leaving Hangman more enamored than ever.

Third Time’s the Charm (Or Not)

The briefing room is charged with the usual post-flight tension as pilots and WSOs gather for the day’s assessments and comments from Maverick. You and Hangman had recently completed a tandem training flight that not only went exceptionally well but also demonstrated a seamless dynamic between the two of you. The energy from the flight still buzzes between you as you enter the room together, chatting lightly.

Maverick starts the briefing by outlining the objectives and reviewing key tactical points. As the session nears its end, Hangman, unable to contain his enthusiasm, stands abruptly, interrupting the flow. “I just wanted to say,” Hangman begins, his voice filled with a mix of pride and a hint of something deeper, “flying with Ducky here has been the highlight of my training. Honestly, she’s the best wingman I could ask for.” His eyes find yours across the room with a smile playing at his lips. The statement hanging heavily in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

The room falls into a stunned silence with every eye turning to gauge the reactions around them. Rooster’s chair scrapes back loudly as he stands, his face flushed with anger and frustration.

“This is just you trying to get under my skin, Hangman! Every damn time!” Rooster snaps. His voice cutting through the tension like a knife. The accusation hangs heavy, charging the air with an unmistakable intensity.

You feel a surge of frustration, your own temper flaring as you stand to face your brother. “Really, Roos? Is it always about you? Maybe he likes me as his wingman. Have you ever thought of that?” Your voice, sharp and loud, silences the room completely. The weight of your words settling over everyone like a thick blanket.

Maverick was caught off-guard between the sibling spat and simply looks between you and Rooster. His expression unreadable but clearly uneasy with the escalating drama. Hangman, meanwhile, watches the exchange with a look of remorse, realizing perhaps too late the depth of the rift his words have deepened. As the tension reaches a palpable peak you shake your head more in disappointment than anger, and storm out of the briefing room. Hangman hesitates only a moment before following you, his steps quick as he catches up.

Outside, the cool air hits you like a splash of water helping to temper your heated emotions.

Hangman watches you with a concerned expression as you step outside. “Hey, I know that got intense back there. I’m sorry you had to jump in,” he says softly, his tone sincere.

You sigh, feeling the sting of your outburst. “I just... I didn’t mean to blow up like that. It’s just frustrating when it feels like he doesn’t see me as anything more than his little sister to protect.”

Hangman nods while stepping closer, his presence comforting. “I get it. And for what it’s worth, I meant every word I said in there. You really are the best wingman, Ducky.” His voice carries a warmth that makes you look up, meeting his reassuring gaze.

The corners of your mouth lift in a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Hangman. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” You knew full well he wasn’t one to hand out compliments.

His expression softens and he offers a small, encouraging chuckle. “And, hey, if it’s any consolation, you standing up to your brother in there? That was pretty badass. Not many people can make Rooster pause like that. Trust me, I’ve tried” He smirks trying to ease your frustration.

You laugh at that sounding more relaxed now. “Well, I guess it’s good to know I have a hidden superpower: stopping Bradley in his tracks.”

“Definitely a valuable skill around here,” Hangman agrees, his grin infectious. “Look, I know things can get complicated, but I’m here, alright? Wingman on the ground and in the air.”

The simple assurance brings a sense of relief, and you nod feeling the earlier tension dissipate. “I appreciate that, Jake. Really.”

As you both head back inside the conversation flows more easily, veering into lighter territories—upcoming missions, favorite downtime activities, and the occasional gentle tease. With each step you find yourself genuinely smiling. The weight of the day lifting with the shared understanding that whatever comes next you won’t face it alone.

Clearing the Air

After the tension of the previous day, you know something has to give. Seizing a quiet moment in the early evening you find Rooster and Hangman at the base and steer them toward a secluded spot near the hangar. The impromptu gathering under the fading sky isn’t formal but the air is thick with unsaid things.

“Okay, guys,” you start, cutting straight to the chase. “We need to sort this out. Whatever this is.” You sigh, “Rooster, I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do. But I’m not just your little sister here… I’m a WSO in the Navy, and I need you to trust my judgment. Not just in the air but here on the ground, too.”

He tries to bite his tongue, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Listen, Y/N, I’m just looking out for you. That’s my job as your brother,” Bradley insisted. His voice stern and unyielding.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, sensing the rising heat in Rooster's tone but remaining silent. His eyes flicking between the two of you.

“It’s not just about being my brother, Bradley!” you shot back, your frustration with him now boiling over. “I’m not a child, and this… this overprotective routine? It’s suffocating. I’m an adult! A WSO and a damn good one at that. I make life or death decisions every day. I can handle Jake. I can handle myself.”

Bradley’s expression tightened. His jaw clenching as he prepared to argue, but you didn’t let him. “I need you to trust my judgment, Roos. Trust that I know what I’m doing. Trust that I can take care of myself.” Your eyes are pleading now.

The raw honesty in your voice seemed to cut through the tension, leaving a heavy silence. Jake watched, his usual bravado nowhere in sight instead replaced by a look of respect towards your fervent declaration.

Bradley looked from you to Hangman, then back again. The fight draining from his stance. He sighed deeply, the lines of his face softening. “I… I’m sorry. I know you’re capable. It’s just hard for me to not see you as my little sister. But you’re right. You deserve to make your own choices. I’ll try to back off.”

You breathed out a mix of relief and residual adrenaline making your hands tremble slightly. “Thank you, Roos. That’s all I ask.”

Turning to Hangman, your tone softens. “And Jake, you’ve been great, really supportive. But sometimes the way you push Bradley’s buttons doesn’t help things. We’re all on the same team, right?”

Jake chuckles while scratching his head sheepishly. He was immensely grateful you were able to handle that before things got too sticky. “Yeah, you’re right darlin’. I might enjoy teasing him a bit too much. I’ll keep it in check.” He nods his head to Bradley. A truce of sorts.

Relief washes over you as the tension begins to dissolve. “Thank you, both. Let’s remember we’re here to make each other better, not make things harder.”

As the conversation winds down, the mood lightens, and Bradley claps you both on the shoulders. “Alright, let’s get back to it then. And maybe I’ll try to keep the drama for the simulators,” he says with a reluctant grin.

As your brother walks away Jake lingers, his smile genuine. “So, now that peace is restored, how about we grab dinner? Just you and me. I owe you one for being the peacekeeper around here.”

Your laughter echoes lightly in the cool evening air. “Sounds like a plan. Just promise it’ll be a drama-free meal.”

“Scout’s honor,” He grins as he fell into step beside you. As you walk towards the mess hall together the easiness between the two of you feels restored. And maybe, just maybe, you feel things a little bit deeper than before.

“Y/N, I wasn’t just trying to get on your good side earlier, you know?” Jake adds as you reach the door. “You really are the best at what you do.”

You nudge him playfully, feeling the last of the day’s stress melt away. “Keep that up and I might let you win at the next sim.”

Hangman laughs loudly. It was a sound you were coming to enjoy. “Deal. But only if you save me a seat next to you at dinner.” As you step into the warmth of the mess hall you can’t help but feel optimistic. With everything laid out and understood the path forward seems a lot clearer. And having Hangman at your side doesn’t just feel good. It feels utterly right.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ryswritingrecord @lostinwonderland314 @xxrougefangxx @greantii @tallrock35 @hyunjinvoid @ahoeforfandomsblog

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Cowboy Resolutions

Summary: New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck with all of your friends was a tradition, one that you loved and held close to your heart. When you and your husband decide to slip away from the crowd for a late night stroll on the beach right before midnight, you realize that neither of you had the purest of intentions when it came to wanting to get away. 

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

Word Count: 2.8K Warnings: Smut with a dash of fluff, including shenanigans in public. Language.

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You feel his arms wrap around you right before you hear his voice in your ear, low and husky and trying too hard to be sexy to actually be sexy. 

“Hey there darlin. How about we be naughty together and save Santa a trip next year?” 

You can’t help the snort you let out as you start laughing. Jake kisses your neck playfully before you turn in his arms to face him, chest pressed to his. You’re careful not to spill the drink you had just gotten. “If that’s how it works, I’m pretty sure we secured our spot on the naughty list on Christmas day a week ago, pretty boy.” 

He wags his eyebrows dramatically, drawing another giggle out of you. “I think you’re right, beautiful. Several times, if I remember correctly.”

“On that note, I’m going to play pool before I vomit everywhere.” 

You ignore Nat’s gag and loud proclamation; you don’t need to look at her to know that she rolled her eyes as she walked away from where the two of you had been chatting at the bar before your husband had interrupted. 

“Well they say you’re supposed to bring in the year the way you want to spend it,” you tell him, and he hums thoughtfully. 

“A year of amazing sex with my absolutely smokin’ wife? Screw the good list, where do I sign?” 

His voice gets lower the closer he brings his face to yours, and by the last word, you can feel him speak against your lips. You grin into it when he finally kisses you. Despite the fact that every regular in the bar should be used to seeing your public displays of affection after years of it, cat calls still ring out over the sound of chatter and the jukebox. You roll your eyes while you pull away, but Jake’s shameless smirk is enough to soften your smile. 

“Jealous fuckers,” he mutters, and you’ve gone through this enough to know he’s only joking. His eyebrows raise again and he lets his hand drift to slide over your butt, squeezing once through the material of your skirt. “Maybe we should really give them something to gawk out.” 

You laugh at his familiar antics and shake your head. “Down, Cowboy.”

But you know that Jake's playful nature, one that not many people get to see, is one of the things you love most about him. His ability to make even the simplest moments feel special and exciting is what keeps the flame alive in your relationship, even after all this time.  

“Aww, darlin. You’re no fun.” 

“Careful now,” you tell him, linking your fingers through his and starting to make your way through the crowd to where your friends have gathered by the pool tables. You grin at him playfully over your shoulder, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or you won’t get any kisses at midnight.” 

The sound of Jake’s laughter was one of your favorite sounds in the whole world, and you let it surround you as you greet the group you considered family. New Year’s Eve at the Hard Deck was something you had done the last two years, and with this third occurrence, you thought it was a solidified tradition amongst you all. It’s nice, being able to have those now. You and Jake have moved around a handful of times in your relationship, never in one spot for long, but San Diego is somewhere you’re so glad to actually call home now. It’s something you were unbelievably grateful for - that, and these people who continuously brought so much joy into your life. 

As the night wears on, the bar becomes increasingly crowded and lively. The music thumps through the speakers, blending with the laughter and conversations that filled the air. It’s when Bradley unplugs the jukebox and settles in at the old, worn piano by the bar that your husband links his fingers through yours, tugging lightly. You look over at him to see him tilt his head toward the general direction of the back door. You smile lightly, knowing what he’s asking without him having to utter a word, and you nod. 

As you take a break from the crowded bar and step outside into the crisp night air, Jake wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. 

“Take a walk with me?” he asks, and you murmur your assent. You know that the heeled boots you’re wearing won’t mix well with the sand, so using him as an anchor, you bend to take them off. You sigh in relief once your toes hit the sand, feeling cool and refreshing through the barrier of your socks. 

“Lead the way,” you smile. 

The moon hangs low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the ocean.  He keeps you tucked into his side as you walk along the empty beach, the music and lights from the bar fading with every step. The chilly wind bites at your cheeks, but the warmth of the alcohol you had consumed and Jake's body keeps you cozy. If you weren’t always so in tune with his touch, you may have missed the way his hand progressively slid lower and lower on your back. 

“I feel like you didn’t have the purest intentions with this walk,” you murmur. A shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with the breeze and everything to do with the sound of his low, deep laughter. It rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your side. 

“Well, darlin’, you know me too well.” He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your temple. "Maybe I had a little ulterior motive," he admits, his voice laced with something.  “What do you say?” 

You giggle as he kisses down the side of your face, featherlight and intoxicating, and tugs lightly on your ear. “Here?” 

“No,” he says, “there.” 

He points, and through the darkness, you see the old lifeguard stand, unmanned this late at night, especially this far down the beach. His suggestion hangs in the air, thick with appeal and eagerness.

“Well,” you say after a brief moment of contemplation that really didn’t take long at all. You take a step away from him, your body automatically missing his warmth even as it thrummed with excitement. You shoot him a look that you know he recognizes by how his smile transforms. “I did say you should bring in the year the way you want to spend it, didn’t I?” 

You take off in a run at the same moment he reaches for you, and you squeal with laughter as he chases you right to where he pointed earlier - right to where you want him now. 

He presses you against the wooden structure once you both reach it, and without breaking stride, his lips are on yours. The kiss is slow and tantalizing at first, but soon enough, it deepens, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth in a familiar dance that leaves you breathless. He tastes like whiskey and the leftover mini candy canes you kept in your purse and your heart races. The sounds of the crashing waves and distant partying from the bar fade away as you sink into his embrace. You feel his other hand slide up your thigh, tracing slow circles on your skin. His touch is electric, making your body hum. Even the cool breeze nipping at your exposed skin isn’t enough to cool you down. 

As he pulls back, breathing heavily, you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness of it between them. His breath comes out hot against your lips as he whispers, "I love how responsive you are to me."

His mouth descends upon yours again. His hand moves higher, cupping your breast through your sweater, his fingers teasing your nipple through the fabric. Your response is instantaneous; you arch your back and groan, completely caught up in the moment.  "How do you want it?" he asks, kisses trailing down your neck. You tilt your head to allow easier access to your throat. 

"Jake," you moan. You clutch at him, one hand in his hair and the other wrinkling the material of his flannel shirt. 

"Tell me, darlin'," he requests, commands, and you whimper as it's accompanied by a bite of your skin. "How do you want it? You want to climb up in the chair? Or you want me to take you right here against it?" 

It was hard to think with the way he was touching you and the feel of his lips on yours. But you suddenly had the undeniable urge to ride him. The added bonus of being elevated off the ground like you would be, all the while being safe in your husband’s arms, sent a chill of excitement through you. “Up,” you breathe, pushing him away just slightly. 

You’re both clumsy as you eagerly climb up onto the raised, wide seat. You hiss at the cold of the wood as your knees settle on either side of his thighs, but his touch distracts you immediately as he tugs your short skirt up to bunch at your waist, allowing you to sit on his lap more comfortably and without risk of stretching the material. You smirk for just a second before a groan tears from his throat when his fingers meets nothing but skin. 

“You forget to put something on, baby?” he husks, and you shake your head. You don’t even try to look innocent. 

“You weren’t the only one with ulterior motives, Cowboy.” 

Your hands move to his belt buckle, undoing it with practiced ease. He watches you intently as you move on to the button and zip of his jeans. He's hard under your hands and god, you want him. But you know you're not the only one. Jake groans, his hips thrusting instinctively into your touch. Your eyes flash to his and you see him biting his lip as he watches you intently, his green eyes dark with desire. You feel powerful like this, seeing the hunger there. 

You pull his erection from the denim keeping him confined. He's hard and thick, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You can't resist running your hand over the smooth, velvety skin, stroking him gently. Jake's breath hitches, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue to stroke him. He keeps a hand steady on your back, ensuring your balance, but lets the other reach down between your legs. His touch brushes against your own as he goes, stroking through the liquid heat he finds. You moan softly as his fingers find their way inside you, matching the rhythm of your hand on him. His thumb swipes across your sensitive clit, sending a jolt of need through you. You gasp, your other hand pulling at the back of his head, drawing him closer. 

"Jake, please," you beg, arching into his touch. He pulls his hand away from you just long enough to position himself at your entrance. He drags his cock through your wetness, coating himself. He's hard and ready, and you can't wait any longer. "Please." 

He doesn't need any further encouragement as he slowly enters you, stretching you open in the best way. You cry out in pleasure, your head falling back as you feel him deep inside you. 

"God, you feel so good," he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. Like you want to prove to him that you can be even better, you lift yourself off of him slowly, sinking back down as he moans. "That's my girl." 

His muscles tense under your touch, urging you on, and you oblige without hesitation. His hands keep a firm grip on your waist as you set a steady rhythm. Your thighs burn deliciously from the exertion, but you don’t mind, leaning forward to capture his lips. It's a frenzied tangle of tongues and teeth, while his hips buck upward into yours. The feel of him inside you is exhilarating, driving you closer and closer to the edge. 

Your hands twine in his hair, pulling his head back just enough so you can look into his eyes. They're lust-filled and dark, mirroring the emotions swirling within you. 

"Harder," you pant. 

"Fuck, baby," he growls as he speeds up his pace. He thrusts into you harder, each hit sending ripples of pleasure through you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you press closer to him. He hits that spot inside of you that only he can reach and the stars that dot your vision aren't from the sky above you. 

"Yes, oh, fuck. Jake!" He finds it again and your muscles clench. "I'm going to come," you gasp, and Jake's answering groan lets you know that he's close, too. 

"Come for me, darlin'," he chants, his voice low and raspy, commanding you to give in to the feeling. 

His words send you over the edge, and your scream of his name is cut off with his mouth surging to meet yours - you had nearly forgotten that you were outside. Your orgasm ripples through you, your body trembling under the waves of pleasure. You feel him give one, two, three more thrusts before he’s falling over, too. His cum is hot as it fills you and you can’t help but moan into his kiss at the sensation - there was nothing quite like it.

He pulls back once breathing becomes an issue. You're both panting and breathless. He takes your face in his hands, the roughness of his fingertips a long-formed comfort. You just stare for a few moments, letting your heart rates settle. 

"Hell of a way to end the year," he finally murmurs, voice filled with warm affection. 

You can't pass up the opportunity he's given you considering the current circumstances, raising an eyebrow playfully. "With your cum inside of me?" 

He huffs out a laugh, but you feel his cock twitch inside of you nonetheless. “The best way to do it.” 

You hum in response and grab his wrist, twisting it to get a look at his watch. 11:52. 

"If we hurry we can probably make it back to the Hard Deck in time for midnight," you tell him, though you're in no rush to move. Jake shrugs a shoulder, and it's enough to tell you that he isn't, either. You smile at him softly, leaning forward for another kiss. After another minute or two, you gently disentangle yourself from each other. Jake tucks himself back into his pants as you pull your skirt down. The raised wooden structure is really not comfortable for either of you now that you weren't completely caught up in your lust. He climbs down from the chair first and keeps a protective hand on you as you make your way down after him. 

Instead of moving to walk back to the bar, though, you settle together in the sand. Your back is to his chest and his arms are wrapped firmly around you. His chin is tucked into your shoulder and you watch the waves gently lapping in the ocean as you sit in a peaceful, comforting silence. 

“Any resolutions this year?” he eventually asks. You feel his breath against your neck and goosebumps erupt over your skin. You hope you never stop reacting to him this way. 

“Hmmm. None yet. You?”

“Already did it,” he says nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrow and your twist your neck to look at him. 

“What?”

His smirk grows and his green eyes twinkle with mischief. “Guarantee myself on the naughty list for Santa next year, obviously.” 

You smack his arm right as the fireworks start going off, and his laughter is masked by the sound. There are bursts of every color you could imagine appearing in the sky, and you let yourself get distracted by the display until your husband nudges you gently. 

When your eyes meet his this time, the look on his face is softer. It’s a look he only ever has for you, full of love and adoration, and despite how long you’ve been together, you feel butterflies erupt in your tummy as it washes over you. He tilts your chin up with a gentle hand. It’s the sweetest kiss you had exchanged all night, nothing more than a light brush of his lips against yours. Your nose brushes against his as, for a moment, you just breathe the other in. 

“Happy New Year, darlin’,” Jake finally whispers, and his words taste sweet against your lips. 

“Happy New Year, Jake.” 

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Notes: Happy (almost) New Year everyone! Finishing off the trifecta of holiday fics with The Blonde One™️ just felt right. Thanks for reading! Likes/comments/reblogs are the kindest.

Special thanks to @roosterforme and @mak-32 for all of their help as always, and for Mak for making the dreamiest banners.

Main Masterlist

[bobfloydsbabe]

burning flames | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: A heated argument reaches a fever pitch for Bob and his TA.

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, mutual jealousy, SMUT (fingering), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

JOIN THE TAGLIST (new form–please sign up again if you haven't already)

SPECIAL THANKS to @cherrycola27 for letting me rant about professor bob and for sending thots when i ask for them. you're a real one.

A/N: very loosely inspired by the song style by taylor swift for the wonderful @laracrofted's 1989TGM writing celebration. this was supposed to be a mob boss bob fic, but that made me cry, so i switched gears and now here we are. i'm sorry this is so late, ames. enjoy!

“That’s all we have time for today. You’re dismissed.” He closes his book and listens to the sound of laptop lids being shut, chairs scraping against the old wooden floor, and chatter amongst his students. It’s a sound he’ll never tire of, no matter how long he teaches.

One sound is distinctly different, though. The sound of her voice. Sweet and soft. Lifting his eyes, he sees her talking to one of his students. Mike something. He can’t quite remember, but she laughs and puts her hand on his arm, making Bob clench his jaw.

Another student, Alicia, comes to his desk to talk about the upcoming assignment and what she can do to improve her grade. Normally, he would tell her to make an appointment at his office, but then Imogen laughs again, making heady eyes at that Mike guy, and he decides he has all the time in the world to talk to Alicia.

He tries to pay attention to his student, to answer her questions, and even tries to smile, but he can feel Imogen looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Her dark gaze is intense and sets his skin on fire in a way he’s been trying to ignore for weeks.

“So,” he hears Mike say. “What are your plans this weekend?”

Bob freezes. He lets his eyes wander over to Imogen, who’s still smiling. Next to him, Alicia is still talking, but her voice is far away and barely audible as he focuses on his assistant.

“I’m revising my dissertation proposal,” she tells him. “They rejected the last one for being too broad, so I have to narrow it down.”

Bob’s on that committee and strongly disagreed, but other members outnumbered him and he was forced to dissent. Dr. Kazansky had given her the news, and Bob remembers the heartbroken look in her eyes when she came to his office afterward. He’d wanted to comfort her then.

“Too busy to have dinner with me?”

Bob straightens his back, eyes still trained on Imogen as he dismisses Alicia, telling her to make an appointment if she wishes to discuss things further.

She mutters a thank you and scurries away. Imogen opens her mouth to answer, but Bob interrupts, certain he doesn’t want to hear the answer she’ll likely provide to this Mike character.

“Miss Van Doren,” he says, barely recognizing the hardness in his own voice. “My office. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, but gathers his books and leaves the lecture hall without a glance back to see if she’s following. It doesn’t take long for him to hear her marching footsteps behind him, so he leaves the door open for her.

She slams it shut, so it rattles on the hinges.

“What is your problem?”

She’s furious. Nostrils flared, heavy breathing, and a delicious flush paints her cheeks pink.

“My problem?” he asks, placing the books on his desk. “What’s your problem?”

She drops her bag to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The gold necklace with her initial catches in the light, drawing his eyes down.

“I don’t have a problem,” she insists, taking a step toward him. “But you constantly berating me is getting old.”

He says nothing. He can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like she wants to wring his neck. Not when all the blood in his body is racing south, and he’s trying not to look at her legs, but they are on full display in that tight little skirt she’s wearing. Again.

He swears she’s doing it on purpose to rile him up.

He hates that it’s working.

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back, and looks up into his eyes. He’s always found hers unsettling, like she sees the parts of him he’s been hiding for decades.

“I know you don’t want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she says, gesturing around his office, making her short skirt even shorter, revealing more of her supple thighs. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, but you could at least show me the courtesy of not undermining me every time I talk to students.”

He frowns. “I don’t undermine you.”

She scoffs, gaze leaving him as her frustration fills the room. “You interrupted my conversation with Michael not five minutes ago,” she argues as her eyes find his again. Dark brown meeting ocean blue.

He steps forward, eyes wandering over every inch of her exposed skin, making his head spin with barely contained desire. “It was an inappropriate conversation.”

“He asked about my dissertation.”

Bob shakes his head. “No, he asked you out.”

“So what?” she throws her hands out to the side, exasperation turning into full-blown anger now. “He’s been trying to ask me out for weeks, but you always manage to interrupt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.”

He freezes. His heart’s beating painfully in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. There may even be steam coming out of his ears.

He watches Imogen run her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, and he truly wishes she wouldn’t. It’s conjuring up very vivid images in his head that he shouldn’t have of his teaching assistant.

She looks at him expectantly, thinking an answer is going to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to respond to that in a way that’ll make sense to her. It barely even makes sense to himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bob says finally.

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, he treats me better than you do, and I know that’s a really low bar, but it’s better than—”

Bob crashes his lips against hers, swallowing the gasp she emits. For a moment nothing happens, and for a second he thinks he’s made a grave mistake, but then Imogen’s arms circle around his waist and she sighs against his mouth. 

He walks her backward until her back hits the wall behind his desk, and he presses her against it, trying to get closer.

He pulls away a few inches to look at her. Cheeks flushed, hair a little out of place, and pupils dilated. She’s never looked more delectable, and he knows she can feel his hard cock against her hip. He doesn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes search his face for something, but it’s unclear whether she finds it. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. There’s no hint of regret, but the rational part of him knows this is a bad idea. He’s her superior, after all.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you kissed me?” she asks with an adorable wrinkle between her brows.

He frowns. Now sure he’s misjudged the situation, Bob leans back and squares his shoulders, letting his hands fall away from her neck.

“Oh no,” she tuts and grabs a handful of his sweater, pulling him back in. “Get back here.” She stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth with her own, tongue dancing at the seam of his lips for entry.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans his weight against her, pushing her against the wall, and groans into her mouth when she tugs on his hair.

His hands travel down her body. Grazing across the swell of her breasts, into the dip of her waist, the hips that have occupied his thoughts for weeks, and finally, her thighs. His lips never leave hers, and his tongue explores her mouth and the taste of mint that lingers from her toothpaste.

Imogen shudders as his fingertips tickle the back of her knees, whimpering at the touch.

His hands slide up the back of her bare thighs, feeling her soft skin under his palms. She moans into his mouth and it’s the most arousing sound he’s ever heard. He can’t help the roll of his hips, desperate for friction, for relief, for something warmer than his own hand.

His hands travel up under her skirt, feeling the plumpness of her ass in his hands make him push against her again and she’s meeting him with her own movement.

“Professor,” she moans, as he trails wet kisses along her throat, running his tongue over the skin afterward.

He hums, kneading her ass-cheeks, growing harder as he rocks against her. Even separated by layers of fabric, the friction is enough to drive him mad.

“Dr. Floyd,” she says, pulling his hair hard enough that his lips detach from her throat. Her pupils are wide and hungry, mirroring his own, and their heavy breaths mix in arousing unison. “I’m still mad at you.”

A smug smirk spreads across his face. “I know,” he says and removes one hand from her ass. He uses it to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hang in the air. Bob keeps one hand on the side of her neck while the other remains under her skirt, playing with the edge of her panties. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to make the next move. To tell him where she stands, what she wants.

He sees the moment she decides, the corner of her mouth turning upward just enough to be a smile.

“Show me.”

Yanking her panties to the side, his fingertips glide along her folds, feeling her already soaking for him. Her mouth forms a perfect o as she gasps, and he wonders what else that pretty and vicious mouth can do.

Her fingers curl into the hair at his nape, gasping when he finds her clit. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Professor,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“Come on,” he says, leaning back to watch her. Her brown doe eyes have gone dark with hunger and desire, arousal clear from the bead of sweat on her temple, and his cock is so hard he’s about to go insane. Yet, he still leans in close, his lips featherlight against her ear and whispers “moan for me.”

He leans back just in time to catch the look in her eyes when he presses his thumb against her clit and she lets herself moan. Louder than he expected, so his hand flies over her mouth, keeping her quiet, but feeling her smile beneath his palm.

His thumb massages her clit while his index finger finds her entrance, warmth begging him to enter. Bob meets Imogen’s eyes, asking without saying the words because he doesn’t trust either of them to keep their voices down.

Her nod sends him to heaven.

She moans into his hand as his finger slides inside her. He’s hot all over, groaning into her neck at the sensation of her. “So fucking tight,” he mumbles against her skin, making her clench around him.

Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she whimpers against his palm, and her hips meet his motions as he pumps his finger inside her. Her juices spread across his hand, and before long, he adds a second finger.

His office fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans from Imogen, and barely contained groans from himself. He can feel her getting close, her legs trembling, struggling to stay upright. Leaning his forehead against hers, he removes his hand from her mouth. “Quiet,” he mutters against her lips.

She nods as she kisses him, open-mouthed and desperate, and his thumb draws tight circles on her clit as he angles his fingers against that spot inside her. She’s there. He knows it. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Cum for me.”

She does. Gushes around his fingers, writhing in his arms. He guides her through her high, holding her against the wood-paneled wall behind her. Her head falls against his shoulder as she comes down, and a long whine escapes her throat as he withdraws his fingers.

Leaning back to give her a little space, he takes in her unkempt hair, swollen lips, and the breathtaking pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes flick down to his hand, then turn to the very obvious bulge in his slacks.

“I–”

She takes his hand, the one with fingers covered in her cum, and brings it to her lips. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closes her mouth around his digits, swirling her tongue around them, tasting herself. He’s entranced, can’t stop watching her when she hums as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s ever had.

She withdraws his fingers with a pop, letting his hand fall back at his side. They stay there, looking at each other, processing what just happened between them. Not only is she his teaching assistant, but he’s on her dissertation committee. He has power and influence, and while she’s not his student, he is her superior.

“I…” he tries again, but trails off.

She smirks, squaring her shoulders. “Close your mouth, Dr. Floyd,” she says and sidesteps him, adjusting her skirt. “You’re too smart to be a mouth breather.”

She crosses the office, gathering her bag from the floor where she dropped it, and he gets a peek at her panties as she bends over. White lace. His slacks have never felt tighter.

Unsure what to say or do, he stands there watching while Imogen tries to make her hair look presentable. “Alright,” she mumbles after a minute. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closes behind her, leaving Bob in his office, surrounded by books, paper, a chessboard, a laptop he’s forced to own, and the memory of his TA coming undone on his fingers.

There’s only one word to describe the situation he now finds himself in.

“Fuck.”

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[waklman]

Glue Song (Pt. 2)

summary: you meet rooster and jake doesn’t know how to feel about it.

pairing: jake seresin x female reader

warnings: brief mention of death

a/n: more pining, friends to lovers, fluff x angst, rooster x hangman moment (?). part 3 comes next..!

word count: 2.2k

previous part | next part

Jake doesn’t know what gets on his nerves more. 

The fact that Javy insisted to go help you grab more cookies from the kitchen, leaving him to brood in his seat alone or the fact that he’s been painfully watching Rooster struggle to squeeze his Bronco between your mini cooper and Jake’s very own Ford truck. 

After a heated argument on which pilot should lend you a hand, Javy won on the basis that Jake should be the one to greet Rooster when he arrives. And so, Javy is able to escape the wrath of his seething friend with the most shiteating grin on his face as he got to follow you out back. 

Replaying the scene back in his mind leaves Jake annoyed beyond belief, and now that he’s witnessing Rooster back out of the parking spot for the fifth time this evening, he feels his anger flare up even more. 

Jake leans back in his seat, throwing his arms across his chest and watches his guest finally stroll through the front doors as if he’s not running late with another variation of his Hawaiin button up slung over his thick shoulders. 

Rooster doesn’t know what to say as he carefully steps inside, spotting Hangman sitting by himself. He keeps a neutral expression on but doesn’t know what to make of his view. Hangman is waiting for him by a table of love-themed baked goods. He can't help but to imagine how Natasha would kick him in the balls laughing once he tells her what he’s currently seeing. 

Rooster takes in Hangman’s appearance as he gets closer, bewildered that his hair is styled nicely, instead of being slicked back by five pounds of gel. And he can’t recall a time where he’s seen Hangman dressed so casually before. For the first time ever, he acknowledges that Jake looks pretty good. 

As he takes his last step over towards the table, Rooster hesitantly speaks.

“Look man. I don’t know if you misunderstood what Mav said but—”

“Sit.” Jake asks through clenched teeth, peeved that Rooster would even assume he’d have any kind of romantic interest in him.

Though slightly horrified at the situation, Rooster obliges anyway—taking a seat, awkwardly adjusting himself in the tiny chair.

The sight was laughable. The two grown men were basically swallowing the small seats they sat in with an array of goodies displayed between them. 

Jake looks across the table, his eyes silently trailing up and down Rooster’s body. 

Rooster can’t tell if he’s trying to size him up or he’s simply curious about how many Hawaiian printed shirts he owns. 

Both men clear their throats and flinch at their synced mannerism. 

Before they get a chance to fester in an awkward silence together, Jake feels his phone ring repeatedly in his front pocket.

Jake immediately recognizes the unique text-tone he specifically set for your contact. 

Rooster curiously watches Hangman, the man across from him practically shoves half his arm down his pants to grab his phone, a small smile replacing his previously annoyed expression. 

Angel 

Me and Javy are warming up the cookies now!!

Is that his truck out front???

I'm so excited Jack!! 

We’re coming out soon I promose :)) 

His grin peers back at him in the reflection of his screen as he rereads your typos, you were so happy for him that you didn’t even bother to look over your own spelling. 

“Who’s Jack? :(“ he quickly types out in response, shoving his phone back in his pocket. 

Jake bunglingly shifts in his seat, attempting to find a comfortable position after realizing that Rooster had been watching him check his phone.

“Coyote is joining us in a bit, and my other friend too.” He speaks so fast Rooster would’ve never caught what he said if he wasn’t paying close attention.

“Oh, alright” he responds.

They both synchronously stare down at the food in front of them before making brief eye contact with each other. 

Both men quickly retract their gaze, pretending to look around the shop–unsure if they want to make eye contact with one another again. 

Rooster stares off in the direction of the kitchen and spots Coyote walking out, his head looking back over his shoulder to smile at a girl following closely behind him. 

“Wait, watch where you’re going.” you draw back your smile, a worried look settling on your face as you kick at Javy’s ankle, alerting him to look ahead.

Pulled in by the sound of your voice, Jake quickly averts his eyes in your direction. 

You and Javy are both wearing the new bear paw oven mitts he helped you pick out last weekend as you carry out red velvet cookies together. 

He can’t ignore the way his throat tightens as you two make your way over. 

Jake doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. He blinks to regain his composure, realizing that he spaced out so severely within the last few minutes that he didn't realize that you and Javy had already politely greeted Rooster and you had taken a seat next to him. 

He drops his gaze down to your knee as it bounces nervously, unaware that your leg is slightly rubbing against the side of his jeans. 

His eyes trail up to your face, and follows your line of sight. You’re eagerly staring down at the cookies you just put out with Javy, as the two pilots sitting across from you are engaged in friendly conversation.

“Try her stuff.” Jake speaks up, interrupting the conversation. 

He quickly rams a cookie into his mouth with his right hand, as his left gently grabs your knee, halting you from giving yourself carpet burn from the way you were furiously rubbing against his denim pants. 

Jake feels you look up at him appreciatively from his peripheral as he shovels a chocolate croissant into his already stuffed cheeks next, urging his fellow aviators to join him. 

“Mmm so damn good,” he moans—closing his eyes, appreciating the way the chocolate swirls on his tongue.

“Yeah?’ Your shoulders shake, laughing at his reaction. Despite how many times he’s already tried your baking, Jake has never failed to display his enjoyment every time. 

Rooster and Javy quickly reach for the closest treat as Jake shoots them a spine chilling look while you distracted yourself, trying to find a napkin from the empty table behind you. 

Once you’re fully facing everyone again, you hand Jake his much needed napkin and place a napkin in front of everyone else too. 

Javy thanks you by shooting a thumbs up at you since his mouth is full, and you Bradley shyly grins at your kind gesture. 

Rooster then takes a big bite of one of your red velvet cookies and feels a wave of nostalgia hit him right in the chest. 

“Oh wow. This is amazing,” he compliments you, wide eyed.

It tastes so much like his mother’s cookies that it makes his heart twinge. 

“I don’t remember the last time I had something home-made. This is great,” he admits to the group with a smile.

Javy and Jake stills at his statement, knowing the reason why he hasn’t eaten anything home-made in awhile. The duo learned recently that his mother passed not long ago, and his father died in an accident involving Maverick while he was young.

“If you come around here I can whip up something for you. What do you like, Rooster?” you offer, lips pulled into a small smile.

Jake knows that you mean it too. It wasn’t just to make conversation or to distract from the topic—he can almost envision you keeping yourself past store hours to practice new recipes for Rooster. 

“These cookies are great as is.” he returns your smile, appreciative that you didn’t attempt to pry or send him a look of pity he’s grown accustomed to receiving. 

“How about you come around in the morning with Jake? Maybe it’ll count as bonding time to your boss.” you joke.

Jake feels himself choke on his croissant, Javy pushes a cup of water in his friend’s direction immediately.

Jake fervently nods his head no at your statement after clearing his throat with water. 

“Jacob Daniel Seresin.” you scolded, appalled by his manners. 

Bradley smiles watching the once cocky pilot he knew shrink in his seat like a kicked puppy as you stare him down. 

“Sounds good.” Rooster agrees to watch Jake sulk further. 

“Hey are you guys coming down to the Hard Deck next week? Phoenix convinced Penny to reserve the space for just the navy Friday night” Rooster suddenly brings up, picking up another cookie for himself.

“Oh. Yeah I’ll be there, what about you two?” Javy looks at you and Jake. 

Jake can practically see the wheels in Javy’s head turning and he wants to splash the rest of his water on him to halt his scheming.

You bite down on your tongue, a nervous habit you could never rid yourself from. Jake has never really brung you around his friends, besides Javy and now Rooster. He knows you run on the introverted side, you’re comfortable meeting others in small intimate settings like this. But a bar–the Hard Deck? Full of boisterous members of the navy running on a couple beers? Jake even grows nervous for you.

“What do you say Hangman? We can have her as our plus one.” Javy offers, slightly provoking Jake.

He looks over at you, trying to decipher your expression but it's unreadable.

“If that's okay with you guys?” you combat his nervous stare with a smile, reaching down to play with his fingers that were currently splayed on your knee. 

Jake relaxes a bit, feeling your fingers twist at his graduation ring–but the anxiety still sits at the back of his throat like bile.

You don’t want to disappoint Jake and rudely decline the invite. That was probably the last thing you wanted. 

Who knows? Maybe you’ll have fun since Jake and Javy will be there. It’ll be nice to see Jake spend his weekend outside the walls of your apartment for once. You’ve been feeling guilty for keeping him inside so much, although he insisted there wasn't a place he’d rather be.

But you knew deep down, Jake was much more of a social butterfly than you were. He would thrive at a bar filled with people. Your chest warms, knowing that in a room full of others, Jake will always manage to shine and cast his presence onto everyone there like a mirrorball. 

“I’ll take that as a yes” Javy grins as you both stare back at him. 

Within the following days, Jake learns that he has to share his mornings before work with both you and Rooster. 

He tries his best to be civil, making small talk with the two of you but he can’t help but to feel like he was kicked to the curb. His involvement in conversations grows less and less by the day, yet this doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You’ve attempted to pull Jake aside a few times but he insists that he and Rooster are already running late to base–leaving you defeated as you watch him walk past customers and make a beeline for the exit. You know there’s something clearly bothering him and you grow increasingly worried, watching him retract from you like this. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jake has the same worried feeling weighing down on him. 

Everyday, as you speak to Rooster–Jake takes the time to study your face, admiring your features, trying to commit them to memory–worried that one day he won’t get to see your face as often anymore. He feels his heart sink the second he looks over to Rooster and sees that the brunette has the same admiration for you in his eyes. 

The feeling grows worse by the second–and Jake is unsure of what to do with himself.

You even tried to talk about it with him–but for some reason-Jake uses every excuse in the book to avoid the problem. Jake Seresin, a man who thrives off the thrill of confrontation can’t fathom the idea of having a possibly confrontational conversation with you. All because he doesn’t want to hear about what you think about Rooster. He doesn’t want to hear an ounce of praise for the man to leave your lips. He doesn’t want to learn that you grew close with Rooster like how you’ve grown close with him. It’s better if he doesn’t know anything, that would hurt less. 

This morning he finds himself standing next to Rooster, dozing off as the mustached man animatedly speaks to you, his muscled body leaned over the counter you worked behind. The scene in front of him makes him feel so nauseous that he hasn’t even made an attempt to taste his latte, afraid that he won’t be able to stomach it. 

“Jake?” you softly called out to him, pulling him out of his haze. 

He looks up from his coffee and meets your stare from across the counter, he sees you bite down on your tongue–a nervous habit of yours. He feels even more sick. 

“Am I still coming over to your place on Friday to get ready with you?” you look up at him hesitantly, afraid he’ll deny your request.

He feels guilt coat the roof of his mouth. You looked so scared to speak to him.

“Yeah I’ll see you Friday, Angel,” he assures you.

Your heart twists sadly at the term of endearment. 

“And we’ll talk then?” you ask.

“We’ll talk then,” he reiterates.

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