#Top Gun fanfiction
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one of my favorite fanfic icemav flavors is where you can see the exact moment they go from rivals to friends/lovers. when the trust isn't there yet but neither of them is actually an asshole and when they're suddenly thrown into a situation where the other is way more vulnerable than they ever wanted to be.
and in a split second, the "yeah, I don't really like you" changes into "okay, I've got you, I'm gonna take care of you, it's okay."
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Two | Ego
i took the miracle move on drug the effects were temporary (i love you) it's ruining my life Â
Fortnight by Taylor Swift ft. Post Malone | TTPD |Â Â
pairing: jake âhangmanâ seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick)Â
rating: 18+ (minors dni)Â
warnings: smut, mentions of p in v sex, mentions of oral (f receiving).   Â
word count: 9,776Â
summary: âif it isnât the consequences of my own actions.â in which ellie has to deal with the consequences of having the best sex ever with an actual pilot who she actually has to work with. A familiar face makes an appearance to guide ellie through politics at miramar. Â
A/N: guys guys guys, you are giving me liiiiife. the reception to the first chapter has been crazy. lots of jake head canon developing here. essentially, i've decided that watermelon sugar by harry styles is jake coded. for... reasons. my guy is all acts of service.Â
this one was also beta read by my bestest friend, so this one goes out to jj. love you girl, thanks for reading the smuttiest part of my brain. i also apologize for the amount of taylor swift/pop culture references (srry, not srry). also, the number of videos i watched on F-14s (tomcats) and F-18s (super hornets) is cray.
working my way through the november prompts, slowly but surely! there are a few left, so if you want to request, head on over there.
â„ playlist ⥠masterlist ⥠taglist ⥠previous chapter ⥠next chapter â„ Â
Ellie groaned deeply, her face dropping to her hands as she slouched over the kitchen island from her perch on the stool.    Â
âI sat on his face, Yan,â Ellie mumbled through her fingers, her voice laced with the mortification of the memory from that afternoon. The way Lieutenant Seresinâs eyes passed over her, undressing her, seeing the mark heâd made on her neck and then coolly, calmly, pretending like he wasnât put off by her presence. She could feel the heat creeping up her neck until it radiated from her cheeks. âNow I have to work with him.â Â
Yan, unfazed, was busy bustling around the small kitchen, assembling her version of a âgirl dinner,â which currently included an obscene number of jarred olives in a variety of colours, a smattering of mixed Harvest Snaps, Ritz crackers and a chunk of Swiss cheese she didnât bother slicing. As she pushed herself up on her tip toes to peek into cupboards, her manicured nailed fingers reaching for a box sheâd seen near the back of the space, Yan reminded Ellie of the squirrel family that lived under the deck at their old college house. Â
âI dunno,â Yan replied with a shrug, nonchalant as ever, giving the box sheâd retrieved from the back of the cabinet on top of the fridge a shake. âMaybe heâll forget?â Â
The remainder of her day at Miramar had been filled with facility tours, and security briefings, introductions to ground crew and the radar teams in the towerâthe usual M.O. of any other airfield sheâd worked on for the past six years. Routine, smooth, reflexive, comforting in its predictability after her unexpected morning. Â
To her relief, she didnât see Lieutenant Seresin again and in part, it was because she hadnât necessarily been looking for him. Between seeing him again, being caught off-guard, her mind scrambling and having RADM Stark offer her concealer, sheâd had her fill of shame and awkward interactions to last the entire week, possibly month.  Â
When, at the end of the day, Tony let her know that heâd be emailing her in the next hour or so about her office space, she was already thinking about how quickly she could scurry off to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Â
Driving home from North Island was completed in a fugue state, doing everything she could to keep her mind off what would happen from now until whenever her contract was over in a few months and the possibility of her putting in for remote work. Canada, Mexico, Iceland⊠somewhere, anywhere far away from him. Â
By the time she tripped through the front door, trudging up the stairs, shoulders sunk low, Ellie was glad Nic wasnât home. She wasnât sure she could handle the interrogation surrounding how her first day had gone (terribly) and why she had disappeared from the Halloween party so abruptly last night without saying goodbye. Both discussions would lead to the same, inevitable, infuriatingly handsome, source. Lt. Seresin. A pilot. A mistake. A five-time in one night mistake.Â
When sheâd instead found Yan in the kitchen, scrounging around in the cupboards, Ellie had offloaded her previous night and the resulting day in what felt like a single sigh, a mass exodus of mismatched thoughts and side drabbles. Disaster, social and career ruin the overarching themes.Â
Ellie lifted her head just enough to scoff in her roommateâs general direction. âForget? Heâs a pilot, itâs highly unlikely. Have you ever met a pilot? Those guys have egos the size of the jets they fly. Thereâs no way heâs going to just forget without some kind of semi-serious head trauma. Unfortunately.â Â
Before Yan could respond, mouth opened in what Ellie could only assume would come next, she held up a finger, a footnote to add, âBefore you say it: Bradley doesnât count. Heâs a weird⊠mustachioed outlier.âÂ
Data couldnât track the trajectory of Rooster. Ellie had tried and failed many a timeâjust when she thought she had pegged him, he escaped the pigeonhole with a dogfight level of evasive maneuvering. With a lack of data or evidence, sheâd been forced to accept that Rooster was just untraceable. He didnât fit the mold of the pilots sheâd met. Â
âOkay, but hear me out, maybe he will forget without a smack to the dome?â Yan tapped her chin as she glanced down at her plate of smorgasbord, as if considering what was missing. âFor all we know, this is his usual modus operandi and youâre just another girl in the long line of hook ups?â Â
Ellie felt her stomach drop. Long line of hook ups. âGreat. That makes me feel so much better.â   Â
Yan popped a few pitted olives into her mouth and tipped her head, gathering herself for a moment before she spoke again. âLetâs have a choose your own adventure moment: do you want friend or therapist version of Yan Like, do you want advice advice or just to vent?â Â
âAre you going to bill me if I say therapist, Yanâs version?â Â
âHow about we split the difference?â Yan held the absurdly sized chunk of Swiss cheese in a twoâhanded grip, nibbling at the corner as she leaned across the island. She was never going to get out from under the squirrel family allusion at this rate. âIf I was your therapist, Iâd say that maybe we should look at how this serves you? What does this embarrassment, feeling it, stewing in it, what does it do for you?â Â
Ellie considered for a moment, her forehead slowly coming to rest on the cool quartz countertop as if the answers could be found there. Â
How did the embarrassment of working with a man sheâd slept with serve her? Â
Maybe the root of the mortification was the fact that she couldnât stop thinking about it, about him. The intrusive thoughts, floating around her brain, still, of the man who had undone her so completely, mapped out her body with his mouth, re-wired her brain through life-altering, transcendent orgasm, one chasing another, each cascading into the next like a line of tumbling dominoes. Â
Maybe her fluster was tucked behind the idea that heâd dragged sounds from her with his tongue, fingers, filled her in ways she hadnât realized sheâd been empty until he was inside of her, easing his way in as she gasped and moaned. Sheâd made sounds she could never have imagined making in the presence of another person, sounds she wasnât even aware she was capable of making. Â
The shame was most likely rooted in the fact that she had liked it, enjoyed every moment heâd been on her and inside of her. Touching her, playing her like an instrument, tugging at all the strings that moved her. Sheâd melted at the way he called her sweetheart and darlinâ in that voice of his, drawl rough and husky, while doing the things he did to her. How eager heâd sounded when heâd asked her what she wanted from him and how heâd nearly read her mind and fulfilled her needs without needing to be told.Â
Ellie could only groan in response, the sound muffled into the countertop as she shifted on her stool, clenching her thighs together tightly as a warmth coiled low in her abdomen. Â
The embarrassment didnât serve her, though it did serve to remind her that she had to have her head on straight going forward. This couldnât happen again, even if it was all she could think about, even if her body was telling her she wanted more. Her control, careful and composed, had to be stronger; it couldnât happen againâespecially not with him, not with a pilot. Maybe if she repeated it enough, hummed it to herself like a mantra, sheâd get herself back on the trail leading to the summit that was the culmination of her lifeâs work.Â
Lt. Seresin was her Voldemort. He who shall not be named. Her Darth Vader. Her Hans Gruber. She couldnât have sex with Voldemort again. Couldnât risk the Resistance and give herself to the Dark Side. Couldnât let the terrorists take Nakatomi Tower on Christmas.Â
âIt doesnât.âÂ
âExactly. Iâm not sure what just went through your beautiful nogginâ just now, but next steps: be the badass I know you are. So what? You had a spectacular nightâthis guy has no idea how lucky he is to tap that.â Ellie wasnât sure how seriously she would take it if her actual therapist sat across from her and crunched on gherkin pickles, folded between a slice of prosciutto and used tap that to drive home a point. Sheâd let it slide for Yan.Â
âAlso, donât think I donât see it,â Yan pointed with the Harvest Snap olive hybrid in Ellieâs general direction. âIâm being nice and Iâm not even going to touch the fact that you had crazy, wild sex with a guy dressed as a pilot considering your no pilots rule.â Â
âIn my, very feeble attempt at self-defense: Who dresses as their actual profession on Halloween?â Â
âOh, thatâs just Big Dick Energy vibes, El.â Yan smirked, quirking an eyebrow, as if she was waiting for Ellie to confirm if the vibe had basis in reality. When Ellie simply rolled her eyes, Yan continued, âletâs be real thoughâweâre in San Diego. You could probably throw a stone and hit a minimum of three pilots in a five-foot radius.âÂ
Ellie propped her elbow up on the counter, resting her head in her hand, her eyes scanning the swirled pattern in the quartz to the right of Yanâs paper plate. âSo, just like that? I just, what? Duplicate the BDE?âÂ
âMore like mirror it. Sometimes thatâs all it takes,â Yan nodded, using a Harvest Snap to spear an olive. âIâm not supposed to talk about it, so I wonât, but if I could talk about it, Iâd say that I have a client who is an author, who shall remain anonymous, and he uses this crazy, hostage negotiation tactic when he wants to disarm and redirect.âÂ
Hostage negotiation. Great. This is what is had come to.Â
Yan was right. Ellie couldnât honestly say she was thinking straight when heâd looked at her with his green eyes and easy grin, the level of confidence with which he carried himself so goddamned attractive. She definitely hadnât been thinking with the prefrontal cortex part of her brain when heâd touched her waist and leaned in close.Â
Ellie levelled Yan with a narrowed gaze. âWhat would friend Yan say?â Â
âAs your friend who has witnessed some spectacular mistakes in your romantic track record, Iâd say,â Yan paused for a moment, considering, Ellie thought, on how she might soften the therapist speak, âso what? You hooked up with him. Big deal. You didnât know he was a real pilot. It was Halloween. You thought, reasonably, that he wasnât. Iâm sure itâll be fine. Itâs not like you have to work directly with him, right?âÂ
âExcept I actually do.â Ellie sighedâshe'd already thought about it on the drive home, if avoidance was a viable tactic for the next little while. âIâm the one with the new tech, remember? That means seeing him all the time. Heâs part of the team theyâve recalledâheâs one of the best the Navy has to offer. He might need to test my tech if I have any hope of getting it off the ground.â Â
Yan paused, mid bite of her cracker, processing for a moment in silence. âOkay. Firstâlove the pun. Second, yeah, that sucks, but maybe heâs, like, cool? Like, he hasnât been a complete ass about it yet, right?âÂ
âHe pretended like he didnât even know me,â Ellie muttered, crossing her arms as the memory of his infuriating smugness resurfaced, the way his eyes found the mark heâd made on her like she was his. The way she, for a fraction of a second, let him suck all the air out of the space between them. âWhich, I guess is fair, since we didnât exactly exchange names before....â Â
â... before he fucked your brains out?â Yan offered, snapping a piece of Ritz cracker off between her teeth, nonchalantly, as if fucked your brains out was a normal, everyday, part of conversations she engaged in. Â
Ellie balled up a nearby tea towel and threw it at Yan as hard as she could manage, and it fell woefully short on the island between them.Â
âOkay, so, heâs trying to be professional. Thatâs not necessarily a bad thing?â Yan turned her back to Ellie for a moment, heading to the fridge to grab the jug of pink lemonade from the fridge before she turned and poured it into a cup that sat on the edge of the sink.Â
Ellie shook her head as Yan shook the juice jug in her direction. âYeah, I guess. Itâs justâweird? I donât know how to act around him now.âÂ
âOh girl, act like it didnât happen, obviously. We both know youâre the queen of compartmentalizing, right?âÂ
Ellie sighed, sweeping her hair back, unconsciously touching the concealer hidden hickey, feather-light. âThis is going to be a bit harder though. I just wasnât planning on hooking up with someone Iâd have to see every day.âÂ
Yan propped her elbows up on the counter across from Ellie before she carefully slid the plate of crackers, olives, cheese and mini pickles toward her with a grin. âWell, welcome to what we true believers call the Frequency Illusion. Youâll see him for as long as heâs front and center in your noodle. Simple explanation. Either that or you have some karmic balance to restore.âÂ
Ellie sighed, a sigh that sounded more like a drawn-out lament. âYou make it sound like a go around kicking puppies.âÂ
âAs my grandma used to sayâGod rest her soulââ Yan continued, hearing Ellieâs comment about karmic retribution, and traced a cross over her body, turning her eyes upward for a moment before she mocked pouring one out, âpussy rules the world. You set the tone. Own it. Be confident. If someone is going to squirm, let it be him. Youâre holding all the cards.âÂ
âSet the tone?â Ellie repeated, slowly, considering. She didnât bother to ask why Yanâs grandma, an unassuming small-statured, Filipino lady, obsessed with backgammon and finding the freshest cinnamon scones up until the very day of her passing, would have come to such a firm stance on pussy and its power level.Â
âYeah,â Yan was around the island now, fluffing Ellieâs hair and fixing the collar on her blazer, âyouâre the fucking gorgeous, brainy radar engineer. Heâs just some dude who got lucky on Halloween.âÂ
Ellie shrugged, avoiding eyeâcontact with Yan. âMaybe youâre right.âÂ
Yan leaned forward to tap Ellie on the tip of the nose, evidently satisfied with herself. âIâm always right, girly pop.âÂ
âOh, is that right, huh?â Ellie swatted at Yan as she danced away, skip-hopping over to the fridge.  Â
Yan grinned, piling more olives onto her plate. âYou know it. Now, eat some olives and get your game face on. Tomorrowâs another day, and youâre not letting some hotshot flyboy get the better of you. Even if heâs gorgeous and a generous partner.â Â
Ellie shook her head, but she picked up a cracker as Yan tapped the plate before migrating to the living room. âGod, this is a mess.â Â
âEh,â Yan shrugged, dropping to the couch and patting the empty spot beside her as she nestled under an oversized blanket. âMessy is more fun. Letâs watch Love is Blind Brazil, thereâs apparently this super unhinged guy, Evandro who picked this girl, Ariela, who clearly isnât over her exââÂ
âSpeaking of,â Ellie crossed the room and dropped to the couch beside Yan, tugging some of the blanket over for herself. âWhat happened to Frankenstein?âÂ
âOh, turns out he couldnât keep it together,â Yan didnât bother to look at Ellie, waving the remote at the TV as she scrolled, her lips quirked up in the corners into a smirk, âneeded someone with a bit more heart.âÂ
âYouâre so ridiculous.âÂ
Naval Air Station Lemoore, California - 2004Â
Even after hours, the Californian sun sinking low on the horizon, Lemoore Naval Air Base was alive with a low hum of activity. F-14 Tomcats rested, wings folded in against their bodies, on the tarmac like sleeping giants, the lights from nearby hangars casting long shadows across the hot asphalt.Â
Sheâd woken from another nightmare. It was always the same, a nightmare in which her dad didnât come home, his plane screaming through the perfect blue sky one moment and then whistling to the surface of the azure water below, no ejection seat, no parachute. Just churning waves as they swallowed the body of the grey metal, silently, until there was nothing left.Â
It was why, at 8:45 PM on a hot fall Californian evening, she found herself in her Justice League pajamas, shoes tied haphazardly, sneaking around the base.Â
âDad, weâre not supposed to be here,â Ellie whispered, her eyes wide as she hustled across the airfield, her small, seven-year-old hand clenching her fatherâs as he snuck from corner to corner, aircraft to aircraft. Stealth mode heâd called it. In her chest, Ellieâs heart pounded, the excitement mixed with the mischievousness of it all. Â
Rick âHollywoodâ Neven grinned, a roguish glint in his eyes as he glanced down at her by his side. âDonât worry, kiddo. I know the boss.â He offered her a sly wink and Ellie could feel the anxiety ebb away slightly. She trusted him, always had. He was her dad, after allâthe coolest person in the world. Â
Slipping through the open hangar bay doors, Ellieâs eyes focused on the jet parked up in the center of the building. The one sheâd only ever seen from a distance, her fingers laced through the chain link fence, her mom at her back, as the engines fired to life and her dad took to the air. Now, larger than life, it was here, looming large over her tiny frame. Ellieâs breath caught as her dad led her closer, the heavy scent of engine oil and metal filling her nostrils. Ground crew engineers milled about, running through their checks, but none of them stopped or questioned her dad. He was a legend here, and everyone knew it. Everyone knew him.Â
Rick nodded at one of the crew members, and they moved aside as he led Ellie closer to the jet. âCome on, squirt,â he whispered, lifting her up to stand on a ladder beside the planeâs body. âWant to see where the magic happens?â Â
Ellieâs eyes widened as she gazed at the jetâs gleaming surface. âThis is your plane?â Â
âAll mine,â he said proudly, patting the side of the jet, his hand passing over his name Lt. Rick Neven and call sign, Hollywood, painted on the side just below the seam where the bonnet would connect. On the body, beside the rear seat, Lt. Leonard Wolfe, Wolfman was painted in white, his RIO. Â
As she stared, wide-eyed, taking it all in, he pointed to different parts, explaining each with ease of someone who had lived and breathed this life for years, someone who could identify this machine as an extension of his own body. âThatâs the engine, and those are the intakes. That right there is the radar, itâs here, in the nose tooâprobably the most important thing in the whole bird.â Â
Ellieâs eyes scanned the instruments inside the cockpit, levers and buttons, throttles and sparkplugs. âWhy?â Her face scrunched in thought. Â
âBecause without it, I wouldnât know whatâs coming my way. You see, when youâre flying up there, things happen fast. You need to know everything around youâwhatâs out there, whoâs out there.â He turned, giving her a proud smile. âThatâs where a good radar tech comes in. But the best radar tech?â He winked. âTheyâre sitting right behind the pilot.â Â
âLike the RIO?â she asked, her voice full of wonder, eyes trained on her godfatherâs name. Â
âExactly.â He gestured for her to step up higher, holding her waist as he lifted her into the cockpit. Ellie settled her tiny frame into the seat, her feet barely skimming the pedals in the footwell. Reaching back into the rear seat, he grabbed his helmet, the one adorned with his call sign, and the âlady buttâ as Ellie called it. Carefully, he placed it on her head. The weight of it pressed on her neck, far too big, but she didnât care. The weight of it made her feel importantâlike she was a part of something bigger, like she was in the cockpit with her dad.Â
âDadâŠâ Ellie began, her voice small and muffled from under the oversized helmet as she pushed it up so she could see him. âWhatâs it like? Flying up there?â Â
Her dad leaned against the side of the F-14, his gaze drifting out toward the open hangar doors where the night sky stretched endlessly above. âItâs likeâŠfreedom. Like nothing else in the world matters. Just you, the jet, and the sky. And when youâre up there, you feel like you can do anything.â Â
Ellieâs eyes sparkled as she imagined, endless skies, horizon boundless, freedom. âMaybe I can be your RIO one day?â Â
Her dad chuckled and Ellie could feel her heart swell, the thought of being here with her dad in his favourite place. He reached out and gently tapped the helmet on her head. âYouâre already halfway there, kid. One day, youâll be up there with me. Iâll be the one flying, and youâll be the one keeping me safe, making sure weâre on the right track.â Â
Ellie smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. âPromise?â Â
âI promise,â he said softly, his eyes locking onto hers, and Ellie could feel the pride growing in her, the thought of following in her dadâs footsteps both thrilling and nerve wracking. âJust donât tell your uncle Wolfman. Youâll be putting him out of a job and I donât know if the Navy is ready for two Nevens up there.âÂ
For a moment, it was just them in that cockpit, the noise of the hangar fading into the background as her dad told her to pull back on this throttle and showed her where the ejection handles were. Ellie could feel the importance of it, the way her dad talked about all of it. If her dad said she could do it, then she couldâher hero, strong, invincible. Maybe she could be his RIO one day.  Â
He grinned and grabbed the straps of the helmet, giving it a loving shake. âAlright, kiddo. You got school tomorrow. Letâs get out of here before someone catches us.â Â
Ellie laughed as he lifted her out of the cockpit and set her down, but as they walked out of the hangar, her hand still in his, she couldnât help but glance back at the jet. Â
âI think we just found your call sign, huh?â Her dad hummed as they stepped out into the night air, the sun now gone from the sky, replaced by the moon glow of a clear night. âEleanor Rio Neven.âÂ
Ellie glanced up at him, her gap-toothed grin, wide. âI like it.âÂ
âRio it is then. Hollywood and Rio.âÂ
One day, she thought. One day sheâd earn that call sign.Â
Ellie glanced at the email again to stick the office assignment in the forefront of her mind, standing in front of her open car trunk, before she locked her phone and tucked it into the back pocket of her pressed pants. She was thankful she wasnât Navy; she knew her strengths fashion wise, and it wasnât the khaki tan colour of the service uniforms. Civilian contractors had the best of both worlds. Â
Grabbing the heavy box of her things, Ellie dragged it from the trunk and hefted it, balancing it on her hip as she reached for the close trunk button. Â
âComm Center 11,â the security officer barely suppressed a chuckle as Ellie used the ledge in front of the glass to hold the box while she fished out her pass, âthatâs clear across the airfield from here. Youâll have to take the perimeter; theyâll be running drills at this time. Patternâs full.â Â
âThanks.â Ellie nodded, taking a moment to clip her pass to the waist of her pants before she lifted the box and used her hip to open the door onto the base. Â
Shifting the weight of the box, Ellie tipped her chin as she passed a few officers and a few of the ground crew she half-recognized from the myriad of tours yesterday. Her things werenât heavy individuallyâa few office supplies, models of the tech, schematics, a monitor, her MacBookâbut stacked awkwardly, they made a clumsy, unbalanced load in the flimsy box with the caved in corners, reinforced with layers of packing tape. Â
The morning sun was already intense, gleaming off the pavement so she had to squint as she moved forward, all her concentration on not dropping the box as she felt the cardboard bow under the shifting weight of her belongings, the occasional silence between the sound of jet engines and shouting staff filled by the steady clicking of her heels. Â
âNeed a hand?â Â
The voice was unmistakable, easy, with a hint of banter around the edges, the barely concealed smugness cutting through the noise of the airfield. Ellie knew who it belonged almost immediately, the feeling of recognition hitting her square in the gut before she turned. Â
Hangman.Â
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Ellie set her shoulders, adjusting her grip on the unwieldy box. Set the tone, she reminded herself, hearing Yanâs voice echo in the back of her mind. She had to hold her ground.  Â
Turning, her eyes landed on him immediately. He was standing just a few feet away, arms crossed casually over his chest, the khaki tan of his service khakis was definitely doing something for him, something dangerous for his sharp features and easy confidence. He knew he looked good. She could feel herself bristle slightly, caught off-guard by how cool and collected he looked, his lips quirked into a lazy grin, almost infuriatingly amused as he took her in. It felt tailor made to annoy the living hell out of her at this specific moment. He looked ready to swoop in if she so much as tipped the box the wrong way and she wasnât sure if that grated on her nerves, or if it was something else entirely.Â
âNo, I donât need a hand, Lieutenant Seresin,â she replied firmly, adjusting her grip on the box and her resolve. She turned around again resolutely ignoring him and starting off in her original direction, the corner of the already flimsy cardboard buckling, her belongings shifting inside as the box threatened to give way any moment.Â
Sure enough, she heard his footsteps fall into pace beside her, an easy saunter as if he had all the time in the world. âYouâre a civilian contractor; you can take it easy with the Lieutenant. You can call me JakeâŠâ he began casually, before his voice dropped just enough to add weight to his next words, âsince weâve already been⊠acquainted.âÂ
Ellieâs jaw tightened, her pace slowing until she came to a stop. The box crumpled further under her suddenly tightened grip, and she thought she heard the tape coming away from the bottom of the box. She turned slightly, just enough to level him with a glare, all heat and warning. âIâm aware of what happened. That was⊠before.â Before she knew he was a real pilot. Before she knew cocky and smug were his default personality traits. âThis is work, notââÂ
âNot what?â he interrupted carefully, the mischievous glint in his eye almost twinkling now. âNot two, consenting adults who had a good time and now coincidentally find themselves working on the same base?âÂ
Great. So he hadnât recently happened upon a semi-serious, short-term memory wiping head injury. How unlucky for her. Sheâd have to work on quashing the butterflies causing the stupid feelings in her stomach currently. The ones that told her she liked looking at his aggravating, annoying, idiotic, handsome face and hearing the charming southern drawl in his words. What was it that Yan had said? Another girl in a long line of hook ups?Â
Ellie felt her face heat and not from the sun continuing to beat down. âThatâs exactly what this is, actually. Coincidence. Thatâs it,â Ellie lifted her chin, defiant in the face of his easy charm, her voice dipping low as a crew member zipped past them in a golf cart. âOne night. A one-time thing.âÂ
This time, he broke into a wry grin, but he didnât speak, and Ellie felt as if he was waiting for her to continue, so she did.Â
âListen, I donât know what your angle is, but whatever you think happened between us? It wonât happen again.â She kept her gaze trained on him, looking for the moment it might sink in. âIâm here to do a job, thatâs it.â Ellie turned again, squinting against the sun as she continued on her way, her dramatic exit. Sheâd taken three full strides, the box betraying her confident pace, folding in as a piece of lose tape flapped in the breeze and stuck to her hand as her belongings rolled around, loose at the bottom, before Jake was at her side again. Â
His eyebrow quirked up, but he didnât look fazed. Amused, that was the more fitting word, Ellie thought. He looked entertained. By her struggle, by her refusal of his offer for help, even now as the box pitched, weight shifting oddly as the things inside moved around, uncontrolled. âMy angle?â He repeated, almost as if he couldnât believe it wasnât butter. His tone was teasing and light. âSo, you think I have an angle? You been doing a lot of thinking about me then, sweetheart?â Â
Ellie rolled her eyes hard, and she picked up her pace. She pointedly ignored his question about her extracurricular thoughts, which definitely included thoughts of him despite her better judgement, but he didnât need the confirmation. âI donât know what it is, yetâ the box pitched, and Hangmanâs hand moved to right it, but Ellie angled it away from him, the sound of her monitor being smacked by the decorative arc reactor paperweight sending her stomach into a tip. âBut yes, Iâm sure you have one.â Â
Firmly, Ellie pushed down the memory of Halloween. The chemistry between them had been a wildfire, quick, easy, starting as something small, possibly insignificant, and then grew unexpectedly, fast, all-consuming, searing, white hot, uncontrollable, unpredictable. It was only spoiled by seeing him again and realizing that he had been telling her the whole truth and nothing but the truth the entire time. He was a pilot. A Lieutenant. A pilot just like every other pilot sheâd ever met. Cocky, self-assured, overly confident, reckless. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. âWhatever youâre thinking, do me a favourâdonât. Youâre not fooling me.â   Â
âWouldnât dream of it,â He responded, smirking as he watched her wrestle with the box each step of the way. Part of her appreciated that he let her, liked that he respected that sheâd said no and turned down his help. Â
Before she could deflect, Ellie felt her heel catch just enough on an uneven bit of pavement, and the box, already unbalanced, began to teeter forward, the weight of the shifting contents making it more difficult to recover as she simultaneously tried to save her things and steady herself. Instinctively, she reached out to steady it, but Jakeâs hand shot out, steadying her with one hand on her elbow and the other catching the box. He was good⊠really good.Â
âCareful there,â he said softly, all hints of ribbing gone, his eyes locked on hers. âItâd be a shame if all that attitude ended up in a broken ankle.âÂ
Ellie felt a flush of frustration and something else she wasnât willing to name, his touch igniting something in her she had to fight to press down again. Stiffening against his grasp, she quickly steadied herself and once she was sure the box was as balanced as she could get it, he carefully let go. In the wake of his skin on hers, she felt a coolness and part of her missed the contact.Â
âI can handle myself, thank youâ she murmured, but there was less bite. She left no room for him to question her assertation as she straightened herself to stand taller. Looking him dead in the eye was a feat, all six feet of him towering over her, even with the added height of her heels.Â
âNever said you couldnât.â He stepped back, raising his hands in mock surrender, but the smug look didnât fade. âBut just so weâre clear, if you ever need a hand, Iâm around. For whatever. Work-related, of course.âÂ
Ellie didnât answer, just tightened her grip on the box, ignoring the way her heart had quickened in that split second of closeness, his hand on her arm a beat longer than necessary after she steadied herself. She turned and continued toward her office, keeping her chin high and pretending she couldnât feel Jakeâs eyes on her.Â
As she walked away, she heard him call out, âSee you around, Ace.âÂ
â303,â Ellie murmured, clicking past the numbered doors, closed and plated with names that werenât hers. â304,â she blew out a huff of air as her eyes flicked to the next door.Â
Sheâd broken out into a bit of a sweat by the time sheâd made it to Comms building 11, her calves aching. Now she knew why that security officer had laughed at the sight of her, the sad box of things in her grip already failing. Between the pace sheâd kept up, a speed between confident stride and hectic hustle to get away from the man sheâd been trying to avoid, and the distance between the parking lot and here, sheâd hit her workout goal for the entire week.Â
â305.âÂ
Rigby, E. Ellie glanced at the nameplate secured to the door and used her elbow to press down on the paddle handle, maneuvering expertly to use her hip to wedge the port open when she heard the click of the latch releasing.Â
Turning into the space, Ellie paused for a moment, glancing back at the nameplate on the door for half a second longer when she took in the sheer size of the office. This had to be some kind of mistake, civilian contractors didnât get windows, especially not eastern facing windows. Â
The nameplate stuck to the door still said her name. The number above the port hadnât changed. This was 305 and that was her name on the door.Â
Stepping further inside, Ellie kicked the door closed behind herself, only registering that another person was in the room when they spoke.Â
âHey, Rio.â Â
The call sign hit her, broadside, and drew her eyes immediately to the source. Â
The man who leaned against the corner of the window ledge on the other side of the room, arms folded across his chest, was silhouetted against the bright morning light streaming in. Though his face had changed, laugh lines deepened around his eyes, the crease between his brow mostly cemented, likely exacerbated by all the young, hot shot pilots heâd watched breeze through Miramar over the years, she would recognize him anywhere.Â
Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick.Â
Ellie smirked as he stepped forward, taking the box from her without hesitation and sliding it onto the edge of the small coffee table, situated in front of the quaint sitting area which included a couch and an armchair. Free from the weight of the box, Ellie took a deep breath and, hands on hips, surveyed the space. âI think they made a mistake, Mav. This has to be your office. Way too big to be a civilian contractorâs, thatâs for sure.â Â
Maverick chuckled and Ellie could see the younger version of the man sheâd met years ago behind the softened angles of his face. She guessed, in his eyes, she looked a lot different from the kid running around the airfield, causing trouble, getting in the way, herself. âPulled a few strings. Anything for Hollywoodâs kid.âÂ
She met his wry grin with a smirk of her own, a flash of gratitude filling her with a sense of the calm of familiarity, but she shook her head with a laugh. âWell, thanks for the royal treatment, but I think itâs a bit much.â Ellie gestured to the large space, the window behind Mav looking out onto the airfield, the grand mahogany desk waiting for a touch of personalization, an expanse of empty bookshelves behind it and the sitting area to her right. Â
Her âofficeâ at the base in Turkey had been little more than a space between two filing cabinets, open to the coffee station, water cooler and any Air Force pilot who thought she looked unassuming or unaware. Sheâd accepted that space as workable for over a year. This, by comparison, was at least seventeen steps up. For one, there was a door. âI was half expecting a supply closet, to be honest. Somewhere with more dust and a lot less⊠light.âÂ
Maverick closed the space between them, pulling her into a quick hug before he stepped back to really take her in, his hands framing her shoulders. âHowâre you doing, kid? Howâs Miramar treating you so far? Wouldnât expect itâs anything Rio couldnât handle.âÂ
âRio,â Ellie tested out the old call sign, the second time sheâd heard it from Mav in such a short time, a soft smile pulling up the corner of her lips slightly, âhavenât heard that one in a long time. Iâm good.â Â
Sheâd leave out the footnotes that included Hangman, or any possible complications that were attached to him for now. Instead, Ellie took a moment to look at Maverick, she hadnât been expecting him to be here, hadnât expected to feel the comfort in the presence of his easy nature. Seeing him settled the anxiety simmering beneath the surface, if only just a little bit. âSo, they called you in to keep tabs on me, huh?âÂ
âSomething like that.â A knowing look crossed his face, a smirk, the look of the old Maverick Ellie had known for the majority of her life. Cocky, self-assured, non-conformist, Maverick was the typical archetype of a pilot, at least every one that Ellie had ever encountered. âI figured Iâd be a friendlier face than Admiral Simpson. Someone to get you started. I know Miramarâs not the⊠smoothest place to transition into.âÂ
Admiral Simpson. Stuffy, hard-lined, hard-nosed, Admiral Simpson. The same Admiral Simpson that had watch-checked and foot-tapped his way through her presentation the other day. The same Admiral she couldnât help but feel would sideline her project if it meant delaying a mission for even half a minute. On the other hand, there was RADM Starkâwelcoming and excited, and yet, there was something unreadable about her. Something that Ellie wasnât sure she could trust behind the glad to have more estrogen in the room facade.Â
There was a reason she had a reputation as someone to impress, there was a reason she was thriving in the man-made, old boys club that was the Navy.Â
Ellie made a face, and Maverick simply pressed his lips into a thin line and raised his eyebrows quietly. Maverick understoodâhe almost always did, especially when it came to following protocol, or rather, breaking protocol. Maverick hadnât ever been any Admiralâs favourite pilotâespecially not Admiral Benjamin, even if his daughter, Penny, thought differently. If anyone could help her navigate the difficult politics of Admirals and strict rules of engagement, it was Maverick. Maverick who, somehow, hadnât been dishonourably discharged⊠yet. Â
There was no doubt in her mind she would be thankful to have Maverick and his rule-bending in her corner as the go-between.Â
âSmooth is overrated,â Ellie scoffed, shrugging. âIâm here to workâmaybe make a few of you Navy boys cry in the process, if Iâm lucky.âÂ
Maverickâs laugh was sudden and loud, genuine, the grin on his face wide. Â
âGood,â he nodded, approvingly, patting her arm. âWell, in the spirit of smooth in the context of work, Iâve got some updates from the Admirals. Did you want toââ Maverick nodded toward the desk, and it took Ellie a moment to understand what he was suggesting, lost in the soft, blurred edges of nostalgia. Â
âYeah, of course. Better to just dive into the deep end with this, I guess.âÂ
Ellie rummaged for a second and dug her MacBook from the box, doing her best to ignore that there was a fresh dent in the lid as she swept over to the desk and Maverick settled in on the other side.Â
âSo Iâve had a chance to go over your reports and the preliminary data from the prototype testing on base in Turkey,â Mav started, his expression unreadable, though his posture suggested a relaxed, nonchalant approach. She supposed this was the most professional he would get with her. âItâs really impressive, Ellie. Your dad, he mentioned you were top of the game, he didnât mention that you were running circles around the rest of us.âÂ
âI meanââ Ellie started, she kept her eyes on the screen of her laptop as it started up, âitâs all still relatively untestedâŠ.âÂ
She pointedly ignored Mavâs mention of her dad. Hollywood wasnât exactly a subject she wanted to touch on right now. Especially not with Maverick. She knew where it would lead.Â
âStill. Must be something promising to get them to pull you here from halfway across the world.â Mav didnât push the topic further as she saw him cross his legs, ankle on knee, in her peripheral. âItâs going to make a big difference to a lot of people if we can get it off the ground. Iâm putting my weight behind this one, Rioâthat counts for something. At least the Admirals think so.âÂ
âI hope so.â Ellie straightened herself in her chair, MacBook finally at the ready, despite a few broken pixels in the top left corner of the screen. âHow do we tackle this then? Do I want to know what kind of resources theyâre allocating for this?âÂ
Maverick paused for a moment, his hands passing over the armrests before folding his hands. âGood news or bad news?âÂ
âYou know me, Mavânews is news.âÂ
âWell, theyâre giving us pilots and significant testing time. Theyâve put me on the testing schedules too, so youâll be seeing a lot of me. Weâll run this as seamlessly as possible and get you the data you need to make this a reality.â Maverickâs fingers drummed on his knee, casual, calm.Â
âOkay, that sounds like the good news to meâŠ.â Ellie cautiously made notes, her eyes returning to Mav as if she expected the other shoe to drop at any moment. So far, these were all workable resources. âIâll get Records to pull the pilot filesââ  Â
âNo need, Iâve got them here.â Maverick reached to the chair beside him before sliding a folio across the desk toward her, thick with dossiers. âFifteen pilots. Theyâre the best the Navy has to offer. All Top Gun graduates, all recalled for the current mission training. Theyâre giving us four of our choosing.âÂ
Ellie shrugged, her hand resting on the top of the stack of files, her thumb flipping through the first few tabs with call signs. Bob, Coyote, Duke, she nodded slowly, processing. âWell, to be honest, I was expecting far lessââ Â
âWe have to run the testing of your tech alongside the mission training. Theyâre giving us two and a half months.â Maverickâs words hung in the air for a long moment, a moment in which Ellieâs eyes snapped to his and she searched for the lie there she knew she wouldnât find. Maverick didnât lie, he wasnât the type.Â
And there it was: the other shoe.Â
Two and a half months. The initial research alone had taken years. Years of algorithm building, years of theoretical practice, years of begging for funding. Hell, the prototype alone had taken a year to create in a lab with her close oversight. Two and a half months was a drop in the ocean, a near impossibility. This was an out of the frying pan and into the heat situation if Ellie had ever seen one. âNo pressure, right?âÂ
âRADM Stark is in our corner for nowâAdmiral Simpson has made it clear heâll recommend moving forward with the mission with or without your tech,â Maverick didnât sugar coat it and Ellie appreciated that about himâit wasnât in his nature to soften the blow. âI think you and I would both prefer that itâs with. The more of these pilots we can bring home, the better.âÂ
Ellie glanced at the stack of files again, folded in the larger tan manila, and nodded, taking a deep breath. âOkay then, deep ending this.âÂ
âPick your top candidates based on the needs of the tech and the testing. Iâm looking forward to reading your report.â Maverick tapped the corner of the desk, standing before shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. âLetâs say my office. Tomorrow morning, 0800 sharp. Bring coffee.âÂ
âCareful Mav,â Ellie tutted, her eyebrow raised in a teasing way as she looked up at him over the top of her computer screen, âthat sounds an awful lot like protocol. Youâve got a reputation for throwing out the rulebook to uphold around here.âÂ
Maverick waved her off as he headed for the door and Ellie watched him pause for just a moment, halfway out, his hand on the knob. âThis isnât exactly going to be a walk in the park, kid. But if thereâs anyone who can pull this off, itâs you. Whether the name on the door is Neven or notââ Mavâs knuckles rapped against the solid wood, just under the name plate displaying her motherâs maiden name, ââthe Nevens have a way of making things happen. Youâre where youâre meant to be.âÂ
âThanks.âÂ
Maverick offered her a small smile, cleared his throat and then stepped out of the door. âOh, Ellie?â Maverickâs head was back through the door, his finger pointing to the shelving behind her. âI brought you a little office warming gift.âÂ
Ellie quickly found the small potted fern, the decorative pot it sat in painted with Be-LEAF in Yourself in neat block lettering. Ellie lifted the pot, turning with a raised eyebrow, displaying the saying.Â
âPenny picked it out.â Mav shrugged, as if he himself were above the plant pun. When Ellieâs gaze didnât shift, Mav waved a hand and retreated again. â0800 sharp, Rio. Two sugars, no dairy.âÂ
With a dry chuckle, Ellie turned back to the shelf, her eyes quickly finding something else where the pot had been, hidden.Â
The photo in the frame was slightly faded, but the energy captured within the image felt timeless. It was a group shot, clearly taken at Miramar a lifetime ago, the California sun bright overhead, casting shadows across the tarmac where the four men stood, exuding effortless swagger. The aura of young pilots in their prime.Â
Maverick was front and center, his signature aviators reflecting a blurred image of the photo taker, a familiar cocky grin stretching across his face. His flight suit was unzipped at the top, revealing the white T-shirt underneath. To his right, Ellieâs eyes focused on her dad. His posture, shoulders relaxed, mirrored Maverickâs, his smile easy but sharp, his trademark confidence that matched his call sign.Â
Next to him, Wolfman, her dadâs RIO, his stance a little more casual but no less self-assured. He had an arm slung around Hollywoodâs shoulder; their camaraderie apparent even through the static image. His grin was wide and mischievous, like he had just cracked a joke that made Hollywood laugh. Wolfman was always the one for jokesâalways inappropriate, never failing to make her dad laugh.Â
On the far left, slightly more composed but no less iconic, stood Iceman. His jaw was set, his aviators pushed up into his blond hair as he looked at the camera with a subtle smirk. Even in the informal setting, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew he was the best.Â
The four of them stood against the backdrop of an F-14 Tomcat, the jetâs sleek frame gleaming in the sunlight.Â
It was a snapshot of a time when they were young, fearless, and seemingly invincibleâa moment frozen in time, untouched by the years and the weight of everything that would come after. In the reflection of the glass, Ellie could just make out her own face as she refocused, her eyes soft and her brow pulled together.Â
Rolling her eyes, Ellie shook herself out of her own thoughts, scoffing as she snapped the picture face down, its support leg sticking up like that of a dead bug.Â
If she wanted to survive here, if she had any hope of making a difference, she would need to keep her head on straight. No more distractions.Â
âYouâre going to have to do a lot better than that if you want to leave here with something other than lint in your pockets, Bradshaw.â Â
Jake grabbed the triangle and racked the balls as Rooster groaned, the wad of bills in the fold that came out of his pocket thinner than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He thumbed out another twenty and placed it on top of the growing pile of cash sitting on the edge of the table before he took a swig of beer. âKeep taking my money, Hangman and youâll have to tell Nic why I canât take her out on Friday.â Â
âOh, you want me to tell your girl her boyfriend canât handle his balls?â Hangman smirked, shifting the triangle up to the foot spot on the table before carefully removing the rack. âYou know, Iâd be real happy to do that, Rooster.â Grabbing his cue, Jake nodded across the table, âhow âbout I let you break first then, give you a head start.â Â
As Rooster leaned over the table to line up the break, Jake grabbed his beer, leaning up against the wall. The late-day sun streamed in through the windows of the Hard Deck, casting long shadows across the scuffed hardwood, the warm glow of golden hour adding a certain charm to the scrappy, Navy watering hole. It was routine by now, mission training, the Hard Deck, hustling pool for a little extra spending money, embarrassing Rooster who always seemed eager to try to prove he was better than Jake at the game. Wash, rinse, repeat. Steady pace for a Tuesday night. But tonight, Jakeâs mind wasnât on the pool game, or the growing pile of Roosterâs cash. Â
Instead, it was occupied by thoughts of a particular Radar Tech who had, in two short days, carved out a space in his head: Eleanor Rigby. That surprised Jakeâsurprised him in ways that took the routine out of his usual one-night M.O.Â
After heâd seen her that morning, struggling with the box, almost comically, and she refused his help outright, the end of the day had come quickly. Quicker than Jake had anticipated. Between the packed mission training and the maneuver refreshers, his head had been on a swivel, his eyes peeled, but he hadnât managed to catch her again.Â
The sharp crack of the cue ball breaking and scattering the striped and solids, pulled Jakeâs focus back to the game. Rooster managed to sink one solid, smirking as he stepped back to find himself for another viable shot. Â
âNice shot, Bradshaw,â Jake drawled, his eyes twinkling as he set down his bottle on the edge of a nearby high-top table. âI think this might be the first time youâve hit something clean all week.â Â
Roosterâs breathy laugh sounded for just a moment, his eyes sizing up the next shot. âJust wait, Bagman,â Rooster murmured, leaning over to line up his cue again. âBy the time Iâm done, youâll be asking me for a loan.â Â
âBold for someone down to their last twenty.â Jake smirked, chalking his own cue. He waited for Rooster to take his shotâmissing a corner pocket by a hairsbreadthâbefore stepping in to size up the table, tutting. âMight have to start playing some tunes for tips,â he nodded over to the piano in the corner.Â
They rotated between trading teasing banter and goading remarks for a moment before Jakeâs inquiring mind got the better of him, swimming with thoughts of her face, the way she looked at him within the new frame that existed outside of their Halloween encounter.Â
âSo,â Jake started, casually, nonchalant, as he chose his next shot, Rooster having missed his solid, and bent to take aim, lining up a striped ball with the corner pocket. âWe have a new radar tech or somethingâRigby?â Jake played dumb, played disinterested, acted as if he didnât know her name, pretended he didnât like the way the mark his mouth had left on her neck stuck out in sharp contrast to her put together, professional look the other day.Â
As he looked up from under his lashes, Jake could see Rooster pause mid-sip of his beer, eyebrow raised. âRigsy? Radar Tech, Engineer I think the proper term is. Sheâs Nicâs best friend. Her roommate now too, actually.â Rooster set his beer down carefully, âWhy? Whatâs your angle?âÂ
Rigsy. So Rooster knew her outside of work. Jake carefully stored the information, his eyes never leaving the cue ball and the line of aim with the striped ball. âNo angle,â he replied evenly, taking the shot and sinking the striped ball and another in its path with ease. âJust curious. Seems like sheâs got the brass wrapped around her finger already.âÂ
âThatâs because sheâs good at what she does,â Rooster said, stepping away to the bar and grabbing two more bottles of beer before he returned to the table. âSmart, like, real smart. No nonsense, she wonât put up with any crap. Not the usual type youâd chase, though,âÂ
Jake took the shot, and the ball ricocheted off the pocket point in a way he hadnât expected, missing the striped ball heâd lined up with that pocket, wide. Straightening, he chuckled, leaning against his cue stick, stepping back for Roosterâs turn. âWho says Iâm chasinâ, Bradshaw?â Â
Roosterâs response was a snort as he stepped up to the table. âSure, man, whatever you say,â he glanced up at Jake, a knowing look crossing his face, eyes incredulous, eyebrow peaked. âYou donât exactly have a reputation for curiosity without motive, Seresin.âÂ
Jake smirked, but didnât respond, moving in to take another shot instead when Rooster missed his second shot and Jake sunk two more stripes in quick succession. He felt Roosterâs gaze lingering, and despite trying to play it cool, he couldnât shake the curiosity that had been brewing since heâd seen her on Halloween. More so since seeing her here, at Miramar again, of all places. When sheâd let him come back to her place and heâd fucked her until her knees shook, he hadnât expected to see her again. Now, now he thought about what it would have been like if sheâd known his name then, what it would sound like for her to moan it, beg him for more. It was enough to drive him dangerously close to mad.Â
Jake missed the next shot, his mind hazed with the thought. Stepping back, he folded his arms across his chest and tried to act uninterested. âSay Iâm curious for⊠curiosityâs sake: whatâs her deal? Anything I should know?âÂ
âOh shitâyou really donât knowâŠâ Rooster raised an eyebrow, taking a deep swig of his beer, studying the label as he tried to contain his smirk, before replying. âYou donât know who her old man is, do you?âÂ
Jake froze slightly at that, his brow furrowed, eyes narrowed at the pilot across the table from him. âHer old man?âÂ
Rooster chuckled and shook his head, his tone low as he tapped the cue stick on the floor. âRick Neven. Hollywood. Shot down in combat on a mission over the Gulf. Made sure his WSO got out first and ejected too late just above hard deck. Broke his back in three places. Docs said it was nothing short of a miracle he was alive, but that heâd never walk again.âÂ
Jake blinked, the weight of the name hitting him immediately. Hollywood. One of the legends. The same pilot whose photo was framed alongside Maverick and Iceman, Goose and Slider in the halls all around base. He took a breath, trying to process it, while trying his best to keep composure. âYou tellinâ me sheâs Nevenâs kid?â Â
Rooster nodded, continuing as if he knew the exact thoughts running through Jakeâs mind. âYeah, man. Thatâs Rigsyâs dad. Big shadow to live under. Sheâs been pretty much anti-pilot her whole life, from what Iâve gathered.âÂ
Jake felt the words settle in his gut, realizing just how tangled this was becoming. Ellie wasnât just some random civilian contractor; she came with baggage, a history that had been shaped by the same world they both lived inâbut from a very different perspective. And after their Halloween encounter, he suddenly understood why she hadnât mentioned anything about it. It also explained the guardedness in her eyes, the bite in her sarcasm.Â
âShe doesnât really talk about him much,â Rooster added, his voice dropping slightly, as if sensing Jakeâs shift in mood. Rooster had always been good at that, even if Jake didnât want to admit it. âNic says itâs a sore spot. That and her folks splitting.âÂ
Jake set his cue down, rubbing a hand over his face as he tried to wrap his head around it. âDamn.âÂ
âYouâre in over your head with that one, Hangman,â Rooster said with a knowing smirk. âSheâs not your usual type, and if you somehow manage to get past all those SAMs sheâs throwing out, she sure as hell wonât make it easy.âÂ
âWouldnât be any fun if she did, Rooster.â Jake let out a dry chuckle, picking up his beer and taking a long drink. âWouldnât be any fun if she did.âÂ
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Bets & Bargains - Part 14
Series Masterlist
âȘin which you and bradley go on your seventh date, this one at a fair, and both end up winning more than once.
PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.
WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine âĄ
Bradley felt like he was on cloud nine.Â
It took him another hour to get out of bed when you let him fuck you bare yesterday morning. He still couldnât believe he had managed to save his relationship with you, and now it seemed like it was stronger than ever.Â
Thank fuck for that, because as of right now, you were the only good thing he had in his life, and he didnât know what he wouldâve done if he had lost you for good.Â
Since going on impulsive dates was kinda yours and his thing, Bradley remembered this pop up fair that always came to town this time of year, and it only runs for two weeks. This weekend would be the last chance to go, and he knew for a fact that youâd have fun there, so he decided to ask you if you wanted to go with him.Â
His arm was draped around your shoulders as he walked you to your second class of the day. âI wanna do something this weekend,â he started off casually, not wanting to sound like he had been thinking of this idea since last night when you fell asleep in his arms.Â
You looked up at him with your pretty smile and a raise of your brow. âAnother date? What is this, like, our sixth one?â
âSeventh,â he corrected and smirked at the quiet laugh he pulled from you. âAnd going on random dates is our thing, so donât act so surprised.â
You laughed again and shook your head, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek as you walked with him. âI love going on dates with you,â you murmured, kissing him again before pulling away. âSo what are you thinking about for this weekend?â
âHow about something new?â he suggested, giving you a side glance as he guided you along the campus. Bradley knew your schedule pretty fucking well now, so he knew where your classes were, when they started and when they ended, which was a good thing, since he liked walking you to them. âThereâs a fair thatâs happening in town. Iâve heard that itâs pretty fun and the tickets arenât super fucking expensive either.â
Your eyes lit up and you stopped walking, making him stop as well. âA fair?â you echoed, jumping slightly when he nodded. âI love fairs! Oh, theyâre so fun, Iâve never been to one that wasnât fun.â
Bradley lifted a brow, his lips curving upwards as he looked down at your excited expression. âYeah? Youâve been to a lot?â
You shrugged, giving him a teasing smile. âA few here and there,â you answered, âThis is so fun. When are we going?â
âSo you want to go then? Itâs not even a question anymore?â he teased, laughing at your eye roll.Â
âOf course itâs not a question,â you replied, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. âFairs are so romantic, Bradley. Especially when youâre with the right person.â
Bradley lifted a brow again, following after you as you started to pull him along the sidewalk. âYou better be talking about me, babes,â
The look over your shoulder you gave him told him all he needed to know, but your words helped too. âOf course Iâm talking about you, flyboy,â you laughed, turning to face him once you were outside the doors of the creative arts building. âEverything feels right with you.â
For some reason, that had Bradley blushing like a fucking teenager. That was probably one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to him, and it just made him adore you even more. So he didnât respond with words, instead he just leaned down and kissed you, his hand coming up to hold your jaw. âHave a good class,â he murmured in between soft kisses before he finally stepped away from you. âThink of me.â
The smile you gave him brought that blush back to his face. âI always am,â
-
Bradley wanted to take you to the fair, and you werenât sure he was even aware of just how perfect of a date that sounded to you.
And while you were a bit lost on just how many dates youâve gone on with him up until this point, Bradley knew the exact number, and you were definitely sure he wasnât aware of how attractive that is.Â
Then there was the whole no condom thing, and that had your smile growing. Sure, it was kind of an irresponsible decision, but you really needed to be as close as humanly possible with Bradley yesterday, especially since you had discovered that the whole Briana thing was just a massive misunderstanding. You were so relieved that you had been wrong about him being like every other guy, and he had proved it to you so sweetly, you needed to feel him all over you.Â
And it felt fucking amazing, and youâre on the pill, so was it really a bad decision? It sure didnât feel like one.Â
You were all giddy when you went into your class, your happy smile definitely not directed at Clarke personally, but he gave you one back as if it was, which was just fine by you. After having such a terrible start to the week, you would gladly smile at everyone you saw since things had only gotten a lot better since Monday morning.
You sat down in your usual seat, smiling at the girl already sitting in the one beside yours. She was pretty, had long blonde hair and hazel eyes, and for some reason, you had never shared more than a few conversations with her. She seemed nice enough, and you were seriously lacking in the friend department at the moment, so maybe youâd try to talk to her more often.Â
Really, anyone was better than Sam at this point.Â
So when she smiled at you and held up the bag of plain chips she was snacking on before the class started, you grinned back and took one.Â
When the class was over, you packed up your things and got Deliaâs, your table partner, number saved as a contact on your phone. You ended up talking to her quite a bit during class, and you were right, she is really nice and seems like a great friend to have. And you were in no position to turn down what could be a pretty awesome friendship.Â
She offered to hang out for a bit after class, and you agreed, so you followed after her when she began walking towards the door. You had a few hours to kill before you had to go to your yoga class, and usually you would be spending it with Bradley, but hanging out with Delia would give you more time to get to know her better, and you could already tell that you and her have a lot in common.Â
Before you could leave, Clarke called out to you, making you pause. âCan you stay for a second?â he asked, and you furrowed your brows, giving Delia an apologetic look and a gesture that told her that youâd meet her out in the hall in a minute.Â
âSure,â you answer, walking back into the room. You werenât sure why he wanted to talk to you; you hadnât handed in any assignments this week since he hadnât given out any, and you made sure to always pay attention (or at least pretend to if your mind was elsewhere - like on your boyfriend) in class, so you knew you werenât in trouble or anything.Â
Clarke smiled at you, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. âHow are you doing?â he asked, his brows coming together in what looked like mock concern, but then again, you didnât know him well enough to assume that.Â
âIâmâŠfine,â you replied, giving him a confused smile back as you shifted on your feet. That was it? Thatâs all he wanted? To know how you were doing?
âYou sure?â he pressed, crossing his arms as he looked down at the papers that were scattered on the surface of his desk. âIn Tuesdayâs class you seemed off. QuieterâŠless talkative. I just wanted to make sure everythingâs okay.â
Oh. Well that was kinda fucking embarrassing. Monday and Tuesday were really bad days for you since you werenât sure where you stood with Bradley at the time, but you had thought you hid it pretty well. Clearly not. And now your teacher was asking about you as if you were back in high school. âOh,â you laughed, either out of nerves of pure embarrassment, or both. âYeah, no, Iâm fine. I was justâŠI had a really bad start to the week. Iâm totally fine now.â
You thought heâd laugh it off too and leave it at that, but then he leaned forward in his chair, bracing his elbows on his knees. âAre you sure?â he asked again, his thighs spread a bit and making his slacks look two sizes too small.Â
Okay, this was getting weird now, and you were definitely beginning to feel uncomfortable. While you appreciated his concern, you had already told him three times now that you were fine, but he was still pushing it. And you didnât think you had bonded with him enough for him to feel the need to be this persistent. You wanted to just nod at him and quickly turn and leave, the need to just get out of this classroom the only thing on your mind right now.
But he continued before you could make your escape. âBecause Iâm here for you if youâre not,â he said, giving you another smile that was more of a sly smirk compared to the other ones. âYou can always come to me if somethingâs bothering you or anything like that.â
Not that he was very high up on the list of the people youâd go to if something was bothering you, but now he wasnât even in the vicinity of said list. You were so on edge and it happened so quickly, you physically couldnât relax your tense shoulders as you nodded slowly and gripped the strap of your bag. âRight,â you mumbled, forcing out a tight smile and a nod as you stepped away from his desk. âThatâsâŠnice, ClarkeâŠI appreciate that.â
You didnât know what else to say. You couldnât exactly go off on your teacher because he hadnât done anything wrong except express his concern about you. But still, why you felt so fucking awkward andâŠgross was beyond you.Â
âNo problem,â he said, and the look he gave you had you holding back a cringe as you turned and headed for the door without saying goodbye.
In the hall, Delia was waiting for you with a kind yet confused smile. âWhat did he want?âÂ
You debated on whether or not to tell her, but didnât know if you were making a big deal out of nothing at all. Really, all Clarke did was voice his concern, there was nothing wrong with that, and you were already feeling better now that you were out of that classroom.Â
So you decided to brush it off for now, and you also decided to not tell Bradley since you were sure heâd make a big deal out of it too, and the last thing you needed right now was more drama.Â
-
Bradley hadnât seen you since he walked you to class yesterday.
You texted him and said that you were going to hang out with a girl from your class before you had to go to yoga, so he didnât get the chance to see you for the rest of the day.Â
It was Friday evening now, and he was waiting in the Jeep as you got ready for your fair date. Bradley still couldnât believe how much you had changed him and his life in so little time. He had never considered himself to be one of those boyfriends who wanted to go out on dates all the time, let alone be the one to suggest most of them (and keep track of them), but here he is; about to go on his seventh date with you in three weeks.Â
His seventh.Â
Who the fuck was he?
When he turned his head and saw you walk out of your building, his jaw dropped just a bit as he took in your, for lack of better words, fucking hot outfit. You were wearing black jeans, a white crop top and ankle boots, and his blue flannel was draped over your shoulders, your hands barely visible as the shirt was way bigger on you than it was on him, and he felt his mouth go dry.
You looked absolutely stunning, like you always did, and Bradley was quickly coming to the realization after seeing you in his jersey, then his sweats and shirt earlier this week, and now his flannel, that he fucking loved it when you wore his clothes.
And you were going to wear his shirt on your date? Fuck, he wanted to pick you up and carry you right back to your bedroom.
He had meant to be a gentleman and open the door for you, but by the time he picked his jaw up off the floor, you were already sliding onto the seat next to him with a pretty smile on your lips, and a floral scent filled his senses. âHi,â you greeted as you shut the door and leaned back, grinning as you looked at the seat warmer button that was switched on.
At least he remembered to turn that on before he was completely floored by how hot his girlfriend is.Â
âHey,â he said back, looking you up and down. You looked even better up close, and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip before he let out a low whistle. âDamn. You look fucking hot.â
You laughed, a mix of surprise and appreciation as you put on your seatbelt. âThanks. You do too,â you blushed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. When he made no move to start driving, you gave him a confused look as your gaze flickering between his eyes and the windshield. âWhatâs wrong?â
âYou missed,â he answered as if you had asked him the easiest question heâd ever heard. When your brows furrowed even more, Bradley pointed to his mouth, and you rolled your eyes before leaning in and kissing him on the lips.Â
His hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened the kiss, making you smile against his lips before you pulled away. âThere. Better?âÂ
âMuch,â he nodded before shifting the Jeep into drive and pulling away from your building.Â
It was still light out when Bradley managed to find a spot to park in the very back of the parking lot, which was really just a massive field of gravel and dirt he couldnât wait to pick out of his tires later.
The fair was also really big, so compared to all the cars you and he passed on the way to the front gate, the fair ground itself didnât seem too packed since there were countless places and attractions around that ensured there wasnât just a big crowd.Â
Bradleyâs fingers were loosely laced with yours as he gave you free rein of deciding where the two of you were going or what you were going to do. He honestly didnât care what you did, his attention mainly on how gorgeous you looked in his flannel - which was so obviously his, he could see a few jealous stares from guys who seemed to think they had any chance with you as you pulled him along.Â
When you suddenly turned and started tugging him with you towards the arcade, he laughed, because you were probably the only person heâd ever met that would start with the indoor arcade instead of the ferris wheel or the dart game.
A few minutes later, his forearm was braced on the top of some coin machine, his other hand holding a rather heavy bag of arcade coins that you were currently inserting into the machine over and over again. For every coin you knocked off the pile, you got five prize tickets, and you seemed to be having a blast doing just that while Bradley watched you.Â
He was content doing anything you wanted to, and if you wanted to blow the entire bag on just this âgameâ, he wouldnât stop you, especially since you looked absolutely adorable every time the machine printed out a stack of tickets for you.Â
âSo, flyboy,â you said, bringing his focus away from your pretty face as he gave you his full attention. âHave you decided on what your call sign is going to be once you become a pilot?âÂ
Bradley grinned, because you were the first person who had brought this topic back up since he told you about it. Eli and Wes and even Briana just listened with fake interest when he told them what he wanted to do for a career in the future, and then they never asked about it again.Â
This was just another thing that made you a hundred times better than all three of them combined. You actually listened, and you actually wanted to hear about his plans for the future. âI thought we both decided on that together,â he answered, smirking at the way you quickly looked over at him with wide eyes.Â
âRooster?â you asked for clarification, and he was immediately brought back to his fourth date with you, when you and he had gotten each other off fully clothed in the front seat of his Jeep in the back of a parking garage after being way too distracted to get even halfway through the movie. âSeriously? Your call sign is going to be Rooster?â
âYeah,â he nodded, taking it upon himself to insert another coin into the machine since you were completely focused on him now. âOne, because it has the double O like my dadâs did, and two, because you came up with it.âÂ
Once the coin had fallen into the machine, Bradley turned to face you but was immediately gifted the sweet feeling of your mouth on his as you kissed him hard, right there in the middle of the arcade. âThat is one of the sweetest, most sexiest fucking things anyone has ever said to me,â you mumbled, looking so serious as you caressed his jaw in both hands. âAnd Iâm not even joking.â
Bradley smirked again, because he knew he had another thing to hold above your piece of shit ex. Even though heâd never met Luke, he still was going to call him that, because he was a piece of shit. And he let you go. What a fucking idiot.
Before Bradley could reply, the machine lit up from beside him, flashing yellow a few times before a bucket load of tickets began pouring out. He was so distracted by your surprise kiss, he didnât realize that the coin he had put in ended up knocking over the pile and rewarding him with what looked like a never ending string of tickets.Â
âWoah, baby, I think you won,â you laughed, stepping away from the machine as it continued to spurt out tickets onto the carpeted floor of the arcade. âI didnât even know you could win this game.â
Bradley shrugged, leaning down to pick up the copious amount of tickets in one hand. âGuess Iâm just that good,â he teased, trying to give them to you as he added, âOr maybe itâs because youâre my good luck charm.â
You blushed then shook your head when he tried to hand them to you again. âNo, theyâre yours. You won those,â you protested, and Bradley laughed.Â
âBabes, I put one coin in this thing,â he pointed out, âYou put in, like, thirty. Theyâre yours.â
Your smile was poorly hidden as you finally took them from him before leaning in and giving him another chaste kiss. âWell, thank you,â you mumbled, taking his hand in your free one. âNow we can move on from this game.â
-
Bradley was so fucking sweet, you wanted to kiss him every second of every hour.Â
How could you not have realized that this is what a normal, healthy relationship feels like? Why had you put so much of your life into your relationship with your ex when he really didnât treat you right?
Whatever the reason, you were more than happy to have found Bradley, because he was replacing all your bad experiences with amazing ones, and he had quickly become your favorite person.Â
After you had used up all of the arcade coins and won a fuckton of tickets, you kept two and traded the rest of them in for a bunch of random prizes, like a t-shirt with the fairâs name on it, one of those tall cups that come with a weird straw that made it take forever to actually sip anything out of, and a few other small things Bradley had picked out that neither of you would ever need.
He offered to run everything back to the Jeep, so you stayed by the game booths and browsed them until he got back, and once he did, you pulled him over to the target game after a certain prize caught your eye. âAre you any good?â You ask, nodding towards the plastic gun set on the counter of the booth.Â
âAt this?â Bradley asked, looking at the various targets along the back wall. âI guess now is the time to admit that Iâm kind of a bad shot.âÂ
His words surprised you, since he wanted to be an aviator and fly missions in a fighter jet, and that definitely required him to be a good shot, especially in the air. And you could tell that he was also embarrassed as his neck turned a bit red at his revelation. âReally? I mean, I might be wrong, but donât you want to join the military? Or are you just a really good liar and only said that to impress me?â
Your words were playful and teasing as you took it upon yourself to pick up the gun. Bradley rolled his eyes as he nodded, âYeah, yeah, Iâm working on it, I just-â he was promptly cut off when you aimed and fired one shot at the center of each target without batting an eye.Â
When you turned to face him again, you nearly cackled at the look of complete shock on your boyfriendâs face. âYou just what?â You asked, casually setting the gun down as he gaped at you.Â
âHow did youâŠâ he trailed off, his eyes flickering between your own and the targets. âYou justâŠIâm sorry, but at the risk of sounding like a complete jackass, how the fuck did you do that?â
You laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to his scarred cheek as he stared at you with a mix of surprise and something else, something stronger, and you werenât sure if it was what you thought it was. âThat? That was easy, flyboy,â you grinned, taking the stuffed goose from the teenaged boy that was running the game booth (who also looked equally as surprised as Bradley did). âHere, I won this for you.â
His gaze flickered down to the stuffed animal, and that same look was in his eyes when he looked back up at you and took it. âYouâre perfect,â he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you, subtly guiding you away from the booth so the next person could shoot their shot. Bradley kissed you over and over again, the stuffed goose you won him pressed against your back as he held you close to him, his other hand cradling the back of your neck. âYouâre absolutely perfect, and I think Iâm gonna marry you one day.â
You laughed against his mouth, pulling away as you blushed, his words doing a real number on you. âYou think?â You teased, lacing your fingers with his as you snuggled into his side. Before he could say anything, your eyes caught sight of the cotton candy cart, and you were tugging him along with you as he clutched the goose like it was porcelain.Â
A few minutes later, you were standing in line for the ferris wheel, a pink cotton candy cone in your hand as you fed handfuls of it to Bradley, who had what seemed to be a permanent love-struck expression on his face. âYouâre pretty,â he mumbled suddenly and you snorted.
âWhat has gotten into you? I won a stuffed animal for you and now youâre all clingy and smiley,â you observe, tossing the cardboard cone into the trashcan as you moved further up the line. âItâs sexy, donât get me wrong, but what did I do to deserve it?â
Bradley raised his brow at you as he answered, âYou won me a goose,â
It didnât make much sense to you - the only reason you wanted to play that game was to win him the goose because of his dad, but if it made him happy, then you would stop questioning it.Â
When you got to the front of the line, the guy operating the ferris wheel had to confiscate Bradleyâs goose in case he dropped it or something, and you had never seen him glare so hard at a total stranger before.Â
You were holding back a laugh as you got strapped in, and had to bury your face against his arm. âThat guyâs just trying to do his job and keep us safe and youâre glaring at him,âÂ
Bradley turned to look at you with an unimpressed expression on his face, and you laughed harder at the way his lips curved downwards. âHe took my goose,â
âHe had to,â you pointed out once the wheel started moving. âAnd youâll get it back. Jesus, I didnât think youâd like it this much.âÂ
âAre you kidding?â he asked, draping his arm around you as the ferris wheel moved even more. âBabes, you make me so fucking happy with everything you do. You listen, you actually care about me, and you remember things that most wouldnât think twice about. Iâm crazy about you.â
Well, now you wish you werenât sixty feet in the air, because all you wanted to do was crawl on his lap and kiss him senseless. He was so fucking sweet.Â
You couldnât exactly crawl onto his lip right now, but you could definitely kiss him, so thatâs what you did.Â
Leaning over, you pressed your lips to his in a searing kiss, taking him by surprise this time as you gripped his jaw with your fingers. You werenât sure how many kisses youâve shared with him since he picked you up, and you didnât care. Kissing him felt so good, so right, and you never wanted to stop doing it.
And from the way Bradley kissed you right back, you could tell that he didnât want to stop doing it either.Â
Once you were back on the ground, and after Bradley promptly grabbed his goose back from the ferris wheel operator, he guided you over to the ring toss game, then shoved the stuffed animal into your hand. âYou got to show off earlier,â he said, twirling the rings around his finger before smirking over at you. âItâs my turn.â
You raised your brow, holding back a laugh as you turned and watched him toss the rings onto the bottles with very little effort. And he won. âOkay,â you started, turning to face him again with squinted eyes. âYou tell me you have bad aim, but you managed to win this? How does that make any sense?âÂ
Bradley shrugged, keeping his eyes on you as he was handed his prize. âI donât know,â he answered. âI have no idea how I just did that. And I still want to know why youâre such a good shot.âÂ
You laughed, then looked at what he was holding, and laughed again. âWow, you won a fish,âÂ
He looked down at the bag in his hand, a dumb grin on his face when he handed it to you and took back his goose. âYou won a fish, actually,â he corrected, âI won a goose.â
You narrowed your eyes as you shook your head. âThatâs not at all what actually happened, but youâre hot so Iâll let it slide,â you mumbled, then looked at the bag with a small little red fish inside of it. âPoor thing. Itâs cute though.â
Bradley raised a brow as he looked at the fish as well. âI mean, I guess so,â
You gave him an unimpressed look. âThatâs not very nice, especially since weâre itâs parents now,â you say, and both his brows shot up as he let out a surprised laugh.Â
âOh, are we?â he grunted, draping his arm around your shoulders as he started leading you to the exit. You were joking, and were also kind of serious, but also didnât want to weird him out. But before you could say anything else, he continued, âWell, if thatâs the case, it needs a name then.â
Your smile grew a few sizes at that, because not only had he not been weirded out, but he played along. âWell,â you trailed off, looking at the fish as he walked you through the dark parking lot. When your eyes caught sight of the âFâ written in sharpie on the side of the bag, you grinned. âHer name will beâŠBB.â
âBB?â Bradley laughed, his free hand fumbling around in his pocket for his keys.Â
âYep,â you nodded, âBB Bradshaw.â
âAlright,â Bradley mumbled once you were right next to the red Jeep. âWhat does that stand for?âÂ
You leaned against the passenger side door, a teasing smirk on your face. âBad Bitch Bradshaw,â you answered, trying to ignore the jolt of heat that shot through your body when he braced his forearm against the window above your head. He was so hot, and he didnât even know it. âObviously.âÂ
Bradley hummed, âObviously,â before leaning down and giving you what felt like your hundredth kiss of the night. âCome on, babes. Iâm taking you home.â He mumbled, then his lips found yours in another deep kiss, this one much longer.
#babes and fratley#bets and bargains#bets and bargains au#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#bradley bradshaw fic#bradley bradshaw x y/n#top gun fanfiction#bradley bradshaw smut#rooster top gun#rooster fanfic#rooster x reader#rooster imagine#rooster bradshaw#tgm fic#tgm cast#tgm#tg#top gun smut#top gun au#top gun 1986#top gun maverick
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Delicate (Jake's Version)
6 - Jake's Heart
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OFC Samantha Kazansky
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: SMUT!!! oral (f receiving) protected!sex, emphasis on consent
A/N: Jake's dreams come true! They really do!
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His heart was beating out of his chest as he stepped into the dim overhead light by the front steps of Sam's house. He was vibrating with anticipation. He waited, as he didn't want to ring the doorbell and he was going to shoot her a message but she must've known he was already here. She probably heard his truck. She swung the door open and she was dressed in a pair of flowy rose pink yoga pants and a black crop top with a band name that he wasn't familiar with across her breasts. Her perfect breasts.
âI thought we were going out to dinner?â He asked and she grabbed for his hand and pulled him inside.
âMom ordered a fuck load of Chinese from my favorite place so I thought we could eat here and maybe watch a movie.â She said as she led him to the kitchen island where all the food was out. It was a little after seven pm and the house was quiet aside from his keys rattling and his boots on the hardwood floor.
âAnyone home?â He asked as she sat. She patted the spot next to her and he sat, as she placed a box in front of him. He opened it, finding orange chicken. He licked his lips. âOoh I love orange chicken. Gimme some rice too.â
She smirked and placed a container of rice in front of him. âYeah my brother and sister go to their rooms and do homework and eat in there. We moved dad downstairs into the old guest room. We have some other stuff to move but Mav came and helped with the bed this morning.â
âAh, that's why he was late. We had Warlock instructing today. Crazy to think we head off in about two weeks. None of us have flown a complete mission yet....â He said softly, eyes glanced over at her, studying her expression, trying to gauge her state of mind.Â
âHow long will you be gone for?â She asked, a flat tone covering the usual cadence of her voice.Â
âIf everything goes to plan, probably about a week.â He said, taking a few more bites of rice, then chicken. He noticed Sam sigh and take another deep breath in. He wondered If hearing he would only be gone for a week was comforting to her.Â
âWell, just come home safe, okay? I mean that for everyone...but especially you.â Sam said and she bumped her shoulder into Jakeâs gently and smiled. He swallowed, and wiped his mouth before leaning over into her space. Her brows knitted in the middle as she closed the distance between their lips. It was a soft kiss, and his lips were warm on hers, and she could taste the spices from the chicken when they both relaxed and let their tongues tangle with each other's. Jake placed his fork down, and reached up to cup her cheeks with his hands. Her hands met his chest, intrigued by the silky fabric of the black athletic tank he wore. Her fingers danced over the taut muscles of his chest and deepened the kiss. One of his hands slipped down to her neck, then between her breasts, coming to find out she was not wearing a bra. He steadied her, mouth still covering hers, as he took a handful, the most perfect handful, of one of her beautiful breasts. He massaged it for a moment before lazily dropping his hand to her waist, where her exposed skin was warm and smooth. He was the one to break the kiss, glancing down out of embarrassment. He felt like a teenager who didnât know what to do next.
âUm...sorry...I just...â Jake stammered and Sam slid off her seat and stepped between his legs. She pulled him down for another kiss and his hands traveled around her waist, pulling her in close. When she paused and looked up into those pretty sage green eyes of his, she smiled, her lids lowering seductively.Â
âAre you nervous, Jake?â She asked and he smirked.
âWhat gave you...uh...that...impression?â He asked, his voice unsteady. She chuckled and pulled away from him, letting her fingers run down his biceps and then down to his hands, tugging at him to follow her. He raised a brow. âAre we about to fuck?âÂ
âDo you want to do that, Jake? Because that's kinda why I wanted to stay home tonight. It wasn't just for the Chinese food.â She said as she led him toward the couch.Â
âWe're gonna do it on your couch? With people home?â He asked as he hesitated slightly. She nodded and picked up the remote and turned the volume up a little on the TV and used that same remote to turn the lights off in the living room and the kitchen.
âI hope you have a condom.â She said, pushing him onto the couch and climbing atop his lap. Her hands met his chest and he stretched up to coax her into another round of hot, open mouthed kissing. Jake's brain was almost satisfied with that. One of his favorite things in bed was kissing. Anywhere, anything, for as long as possible. He preferred to explore the feminine form with his lips over everything else. While his brain was satiated, his cock was not.Â
âI keep a fresh one in my wallet.â He laughed and she scoffed at him. âI'm just kidding. I do have one in my pocket though. Y'know...Hoping but not expecting.âÂ
There was a pause between them, as they stared into each other's eyes. That moment, there was an unspoken agreement forged, and a glint of lust passed between them.
âJake...I do really like you...â Sam admitted, as she shifted above him. He let his hands rest on her thighs, and this made Sam relax into him a bit more. Jake's heart was working double time as he gazed up at the prettiest set of chocolate brown eyes he'd ever seen. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed before this, he certainly had, but in this particular moment, he realized he was disgustingly in love with Sam. But he wasn't going to say that...
âI...really like you too...Sam.â He said softly as his hands traveled up to her exposed stomach again. âAnd while I'm a bit of a whore...I feel like we should maybe have our first time somewhere...quieter? More private?â He asked, leaning up to graze his lips over her jawline. She laughed, a lighthearted one, and she slid away from him, off his lap and offered her hand. He took it and she pulled him up.
âIs that what you want? You donât want to parade me around and show me off?â She asked and she twirled around playfully. Jake smirked as he followed her up the stairs to her room. He noticed there were several rooms and they walked past two where the doors were shut. Jake laughed and then flinched, realizing how loud heâd been.
âNah, Youâre my dirty little secret, honeybun.â He whispered his hands connecting with her hips. She kept tempting him closer and closer to her room, which was at the end of the hall. âAnd no, I don't want your family walkinâ in on us fucking.â
âIs that right, your dirty little secret , huh?â She said, half-lidded eyes and a lascivious smirk to match. Jake pressed in closer as they crossed the threshold to her room. It was plain, but he wasnât surprised that everything was shades of pink. Not a room that he would be caught dead in, but for her, he would be. Her bed had curtains that were drawn much like some sort of Renaissance bed chamber.Â
She turned him, walking him backwards until the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed. She took a moment and went to close her door. He spread his hands wide on the sheets on either side of him, leaning back slightly as he admired the way her hips swayed as she walked back to him. She stood in front of him, placing her hands on either side of his neck as she glanced down through hooded chocolate brown. He spread his legs and drew her in with nothing but his pretty green eyes.
âThat better, shy boy?â She asked and he smiled up at her.Â
âWhat made you think I want anyone to see what I'm gonna do with you? Do I really give off that?â He murmured, tugging her onto his lap and connecting his lips to hers.Â
âPublic displays of affection seem like your thing for sure.â Sam giggled. Jake's lips traveled from hers to an earlobe, which he gently sucked into his mouth. His hands rubbed up and down her thighs.
âWell, then next time we're in public, I'll affection the shit out of you . How's that sound?â Jake asked, demanding her lips meet again and their tongues explored each other's.Â
âJake...â Sam sighed into his mouth as he ran his fingers up under her shirt. He broke their kiss just for a few moments so he could focus on how silky smooth her skin was underneath his hands and how they fit along her curves. His eyes fluttered shut and she watched his expression melt into pure bliss as those same hands that piloted a fighter jet at supersonic speeds, gently brushed over the soft skin of her thighs and the round swells of her ass. It was as though he hadnât touched a woman in years. It was like he was feeling all of this for the first time. But really what it came down to was Jakeâs feelings for her that were making him act this way. He didnât want to force her into this. He wouldnât dare beg her for sex. But something had clicked between the two of them enough now that Sam was offering. Jake had to take what he could get, because he wasnât guaranteed the next time, no matter how he felt.
âDon't you worry, pretty girl, I'll take real good care of you.â He said, leaning in to press his lips to hers. Sam felt a surge of electricity between them, that charge going right to the butterflies in her stomach and turning them frantic. Jake on the other hand felt like a coiled spring, ready to explode, the pent up testosterone coming to the surface. He pulled a hand from under her shirt and snaked it around the back of her neck, holding her firm to his lips. His tongue begged to tangle with hers, and his kisses became messy, like he was drunk, but he was just buzzed on the feeling of her in his lap.Â
Samâs thighs tightened, pushing her center away from the bulge in his pants. He whimpered at the loss of her warmth against him and with pleading green eyes, he gazed up at her.Â
âYou gonna tell me youâll be the best sex of my life, pretty boy ?â She asked, her tone devilish as she wound her arms around the back of his neck. His gaze grew more feral, as he captured her lips with his again.
âDonât have to tell you.â He murmured as his hands went for her hips again. His lips connected with her neck âJust gonna show you.â
His cock had already been hard from the moment he walked through the door that night, but now it was unbearable. His jeans were entirely too tight and he was so fucking close to where he wanted to be, yet so far away. Why the fuck he wore jeans tonight of all nights, he didn't know. Sam did him the honor and the favor of unzipping them. That at least provided some relief, but it allowed more of her arousal to be felt since the only barriers were his boxers and her sweatpants. She didn't have anything underneath. He'd already felt for the waistband of some sort of panties and there wasn't one.
Jake laid on his back, pulling her down over the top of him, but he didn't stop there. He rolled to the left, so that he was now above her, and he hiked her legs up so that they rested against the toned, tight muscles of his thighs, which she could feel flexing underneath his jeans. His jeans which he backed off the bed to shove down his legs, and he couldn't have waited any longer to get off. He climbed back over her and thrust his hips toward her, so that she could feel how hard he was through his boxers. She bit her lip and groaned as she reached, nails out, for his chest. She dragged them down and then grabbed for the hem of his shirt and pushed it up, and he took over the rest of the way, wrestling it off as quick as he could. There was a jingling now that his shirt was off and Sam picked her head up to watch what he was doing.Â
âHang on a sec.â He said, jumping off the bed once more. He reached for his jeans pocket that had been on the floor and pulled out a condom wrapped in purple, which he put between his teeth. Before putting his weight fully on the bed again, he reached for the waistband of her sweatpants and slowly pulled them down, green eyes locked on hers.Â
âFuck, what a sight.â She thought...or did she say that out loud? Her cheeks heated as Jake smirked, the condom still between his teeth, and a brow raised in intrigue as he slid her pants all the way off. No, she said it out loud.
âWhat a sight indeed.â Jake murmured through his teeth, tone lust filled as his eyes traveled down to her pretty pink pussy . As he stared in awe, as if he'd never seen a woman's vagina before, Sam realized what the jingling was. His tags. His fucking dog tags. Hanging from his neck, between his pecs, over a dusting of hair. She hadn't even realized all the times she'd seen him without a shirt on, which were a handful now, that he had hair on his chest. They were in limbo for a few moments while they just admired each other's bodies, Sam staring at his chest, and Jake mesmerized by the beautifully groomed area between her legs.
âI don't know why I was expectinâ anything less down here. You're so perfect.â He growled, taking the condom wrapper from his mouth and placing it on her stomach, and leaning down to place a soft kiss to her clit, which startled Sam. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, hooking her legs over his shoulders, and buried his tongue in her folds. Sam gasped and put her hands over her mouth, brows furrowing as he took long drags against her with his tongue, pressing it inside every once in a while, he made a noise of satisfaction as his eyes closed and she watched as his forearms flexed around her thighs, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. She let one of her hands slide down over her breasts, and then down further, to run through his honey blond locks. She pulled at the hair on the top that she could get her fingers tangled in and it only made him lap at her faster. He sucked at her clit and opened his eyes, a lustful darkness flooding his gaze as he stared at her while he continued his work. Sam hadn't even realized it, but her orgasm was right there, and she was cresting it before she could warn him.Â
â Fuck, Jake.â was all that spilled from her lips as a gasp, while her walls pulsated. Jake pulled away, watching as they squeezed at nothing, almost as if they were inviting him to fill up the space. He gave her a few moments, kissing around her belly button, her hips, and her inner thighs and laughing when she did because she was super sensitive after such a surprise orgasm and everything he did tickled. His lips were warm and wet and he wiped his mouth on his forearm before pushing his boxers down, his length springing free finally. Sam propped herself up on her elbows as he climbed over her, and her eyes widened.Â
âJake, what the fuck.â She said, her eyes focused on his length, which hung neatly between his legs, and he smirked. He was no stranger to it because that was every girl's reaction. His pants always hid his eight inches of veiny cock with a perfectly shaped tip very well. He kept himself well shaven and clean. He was proud of his cock.
âWhat?â He asked, and Sam grinned.
âFull payload there, huh?â she giggled and he nodded.
âLocked and loaded, babygirl.â He said darkly as she wrapped her legs around his waist. âEy, hold on, I gotta put the condom on before you do that.â
She let her legs fall to the side with a grin up at him. He sat back on his heels and ripped the wrapper with his teeth, pinching the tip with two fingers and carefully rolling the condom onto his length. His tags jingled as he threw the wrapper and leaned back down. He dipped his mouth to play with her nipples for a moment, Sam's hands tangling in the hair at the base of his skull. She let a small moan escape her lips as he came all the way up and connected his lips with hers. He broke the kiss for a moment.
âOkay if I continue?â He asked and she was surprised.
âWhat if I said no?â She asked and his smile became soft.
âThen I'd stop. You have my word on that.â He said and Sam swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. She wasn't nervous. She wanted this, but at every turn, Jake continued to surprise her.Â
âKeep going, please, Jake.â She said, pulling his mouth back over hers. She felt him smile against her lips as he swung his hips back and hit his target perfectly. She was soaked so his length slid in easily, but she hadn't anticipated the stretch that came along with it. It was a good stretch and Jake felt her pulse around his cock as he inches inside her. She couldnât help the moan that came out of her mouth as he filled her all the way. He waited with a feral grin across his lips. His tags clinked and the sound just excited Sam even more.Â
âSo...how do you want it, pretty girl?â He purred and she nearly headbutted him with how hard she smashed her lips into his.
âJake Seresin if you donât shut your mouth and fuck me...â She growled, and he took that as his cue. He began slowly, but ramped up his speed quickly. Jake actually didnât want to fuck her. He wanted their first time to be slow and sensual, but that wasnât what Sam wanted. And this whole thing was all about what Sam wanted right now. In the future, for sure, heâd show her what a good lover he was, but right now, she needed him to give her whatever she asked for. She needed the release of tension. She needed to shut her brain off and just feel something.
Their lips connected again, as she pulled his hips in closer. Samâs bed creaked slightly with the increase in Jakeâs speed as he rutted into her. His tags were now resting between her breasts as their chests were nearly touching, but she could still hear them chinking against each other. Samâs arms were wrapped around the back of his neck and heâd shifted to hold her head steady, his hands threaded through her hair. Jake felt his balls draw up tight and he tried to hang on for a few more moments.
âGonna come, Sam.â He groaned and her legs around his waist were the only indicator that she heard him. She had closed her eyes, just letting him fuck her. Letting him be close to her. Letting him in. She squeezed his hips tighter as he came, as he stilled and filled up the condom. He groaned her name into her neck and she pulled at his hair, which he never realized he liked. He stayed there for a few minutes, as his brain felt like an old tv, with the fuzzy screen. No thoughts, just Sam. Her scent, fruit and flowers. The feeling of her warmth around his length, and the sweat on their bodies that glued them together.Â
Jake pulled out and removed the condom. She pointed to a trash can in the corner of her room and he chucked it and the wrapper in there. He picked his boxers up off the floor and put them on and then crawled back up on the bed. Sam reached for him, and he settled above her, placing his lips on hers.Â
âThank you...â She said, Jakeâs brows furrowing.
âFor?â He asked, rolling to the side of her. She turned and hiked a leg across his hips, and placed a hand on his chest. She played with his tags, which made him grin. The light jangling was the only sound beside their exchanged voices.
âHelping me not think for a little bit.â She whispered and he nodded, kissing her forehead and pulling her close. He yanked some of the covers up over them just in case someone walked in on them. Sam played with his dog tags and chest hair until she fell asleep, and Jake massaged her neck while she did so. Once he was sure she was out, he closed his eyes, feeling comfortable knowing she fell asleep easily tonight.
#jake seresin x oc#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#top gun hangman#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#glen powell
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The Beast Within - Chapter 5
Days in the sun when my life has barely begun. Not until my whole life is done will I ever leave you. Will I tremble again, to my dear one's gorgeous refrain. Will you now forever remain. Out of reach of my arms. Oh, those days in the sun. What Iâd give to just relive one. Undo what's done. And bring back the light. Oh, I could sing, of the pain these dark days bring. The spell we are under. Still is the wonder of us I sing of tonight. How, in the midst of all this sorrow, can so much hope and love, endure. I was innocent and certain, now I'm wise but unsure. Days in the past, I can't go back into my childhood. Oh, those precious days couldn't last. One that my father made secure. I can feel a change in me. Oh, hold me closer. I'm stronger now, but still not free. Days in the sun, will return. We must believe as others do. That days in the sun. Will come shinning through.
Flashback
The woods always felt alive, even in their stillness. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, casting golden patterns on the forest floor. A young Mausi skipped over roots and around trees, her worn shoes crunching against the earthy path. This was her sanctuary, a place where rules didnât matter, where she could dream endlessly and imagine a world beyond her small village.
As she wandered deeper, a muffled sound stopped her in her tracks. A soft, hiccupping sniffle.
Curiosity, tinged with concern, bubbled inside her. Who could be crying here, in her woods? The sound pulled her forward, her little feet quiet now, as if afraid to disturb the sadness lingering in the air.
And there he wasâa boy, crouched by the base of an ancient oak tree, his head buried in his knees, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. His clothes, though finer than hers, were dirtied from the forest floor. He looked about her age, maybe a little older, but it was hard to tell. His form was curled in on itself, as if he wanted to disappear, to fold himself into the shadows of the woods and never come out.
Mausiâs heart clenched. She didnât know why, but seeing him like that hurt her in a way she couldnât name. She wasnât the kind of girl to ignore someone in painâespecially not when that someone seemed so lost.
She took a cautious step forward, her small voice breaking the silence. âWhy are you crying?â
The boy stiffened but didnât look up. âGo away,â he muttered, his voice raw and shaky.
Mausi frowned but didnât leave. Instead, she plopped herself down beside him, tucking her knees under her chin. She wasnât the type to be scared off easily, not by a little grumpiness.
âIâm Mausi,â she said cheerfully, though her voice was softer than usual, as if she knew not to push too hard.
Silence.
âMy dad calls me that. It means âlittle mouse.ââ She paused, glancing at him. âWhatâs your name?â
âDoesnât matter,â he grumbled.
âWell, Iâll just call you âgrumpy boyâ then,â Mausi said, crossing her arms with mock indignation.
At that, he finally looked up, his tear-streaked face partially hidden by unruly blonde hair. His green eyes, red-rimmed from crying, locked onto hers. For a fleeting moment, something unspoken passed between themâa connection neither could fully understand.
âI donât need friends,â he said, his tone defensive but weak.
âThatâs fine. I donât need another friend either,â Mausi replied, shrugging. âBut Iâm not going anywhere. You look like you need someone.â
The boy stared at her, as if trying to decide whether she was a nuisance or a lifeline. Eventually, his shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and he let out a sigh.
They sat there in silence, two small figures against the vastness of the woods. The weight in the air began to lift, little by little, as the boyâs sniffles faded into the rustling of leaves.
From that day on, the two became an unlikely pair, their connection forged in the quiet corners of the forest where the rest of the world couldnât reach them. The boy never told Mausi his name, and though curiosity burned within her, she never pushed him to share it. Somehow, she understood that names held power, and his reluctance was less about hiding and more about protecting something fragile within himself.
Instead, they created a world of their own, one where names didnât matter, and labels were irrelevant. They met in the same secluded spot beneath the ancient oak tree, the one whose roots snaked into the earth like veins carrying the lifeblood of the forest. It was their sanctuaryâa place where laughter, exploration, and quiet companionship thrived, untainted by the weight of expectations.
The boy was guarded, his words often clipped and his demeanour prickly. He had a way of snapping when he felt too exposed, a defence mechanism Mausi came to recognize as fear rather than anger. But she had a gift for disarming him. Her chatter filled the silences he carried like armour, and though heâd roll his eyes or let out exaggerated sighs, Mausi noticed the corners of his mouth twitching upward when he thought she wasnât looking.
She talked about anything and everything:how her father was always building something; how she didn't have a mother, how she loves adventures and reading, hoping one day she'll get an adventure of her own, how in her village they made fun of her for being different. Her words painted vibrant pictures, filling their little world with light and warmth.
At first, the boy didnât respond much beyond a grunt or a sarcastic comment, but slowly, the cracks in his shield began to show. In stolen moments of vulnerability, he shared pieces of himselfâlittle glimpses into the life he kept hidden.
As the weeks turned into months, the boyâs edges softened further. He taught Mausi how to skip stones across the surface of the creek, laughing when her first attempts sent the rocks plunging straight to the bottom. In return, she showed him how to whistle using a blade of grass, their giggles echoing through the forest as they competed to see who could make the loudest sound.
Yet, no matter how much they shared, there was always a heaviness in the boyâs eyes, a weight Mausi couldnât quite name.Â
One day, as they sat side by side on the bank of the creek, Mausi noticed a scar running along the inside of his wrist. It was faint, almost hidden by the dirt smudging his skin, but unmistakable. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against it before she realized what she was doing.
The boy jerked his arm away, his expression darkening. âDonât,â he said sharply, his voice colder than sheâd ever heard it.
âIâm sorry,â Mausi stammered, pulling her hand back. âI didnât mean toââ
âItâs nothing,â he interrupted, his tone firm. But the way he turned away from her, his shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists, told a different story.
Mausi didnât say anything else, afraid that if she pushed too hard, he might disappear again. But the scar stayed with her, a silent reminder that the boy she called her friend carried more pain than she could see.
Even in their happiest moments, the shadow lingered. It was in the way he sometimes stared off into the distance, his brow furrowed, as if he were reliving something he couldnât escape. It was in the way he flinched at sudden noises, his head snapping around as though expecting danger.
Mausi wished she could take that shadow from him, to make him laugh so hard it disappeared forever. But deep down, she knew it wasnât that simple. Some hurts ran too deep to be erased by kind words or shared laughter.
Still, she stayed. Because even if she couldnât heal him, she could be thereâto listen, to laugh, to remind him that he wasnât alone.
And in return, the boy gave her something she didnât even know she needed. For all his guardedness and sharp edges, he made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. When he looked at her, it was as though she matteredânot as the villageâs âlittle mouseâ but as Mausi, a girl who could climb trees and weave daisy chains and bring light into the darkest corners of the forest.
Together, they carved out a space where the weight of the world didnât exist. It wasnât perfect, and it wasnât without its complications, but it was theirs. And for a while, that was enough.
The rain came suddenly, drenching the forest in a matter of moments. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the sky hung low and gray, casting the woods in a shadowy gloom.
Mausi clutched a bundle of wildflowers in her hands as she raced toward their spot, her heart pounding with a strange urgency she couldnât explain. The rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone, but she didnât care. Something felt wrongâterribly wrong.
When she reached the clearing, she saw him.
He was curled up at the base of their tree, just as heâd been the first day they met. But this time, his sobs were not muffled. They tore through the air, raw and gut-wrenching, the kind of sound that made the world feel heavier.
Mausi dropped the flowers and ran to him, falling to her knees beside him. âWhatâs wrong?â she asked, her voice trembling. âAre you hurt?â
He didnât answer. He just shook his head, his hands clutching at the damp fabric of his shirt as if trying to hold himself together.
Mausi hesitated, unsure of what to do. Finally, she did the only thing that felt rightâshe wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
âItâs okay,â she whispered, even though she didnât know if it was. âYouâre not alone.â
For a moment, he stiffened in her embrace, as though the kindness was too much to bear. But then he broke, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face in her shoulder.
âI canâtââ he choked out between gasps. âItâs gone. Theyâre gone. Everythingâs gone.â
Mausi didnât understand what he meant, but she didnât need to. She just held him tighter, her own tears mixing with the rain as she tried to absorb some of his pain.
For weeks, he didnât come back.
Mausi visited their spot every day, her heart sinking a little more each time she found it empty. She left little gifts for himâwildflowers, pebbles, even a tiny carved mouse sheâd made from a piece of wood. But they remained untouched.
She began to wonder if he was ever coming back.
When he finally did, he wasnât alone.
Mausiâs face lit up when she saw him, but the joy was short-lived. The boy she knew was gone, replaced by someone colder, harder. He stood with a group of older boys, their laughter sharp and cruel.
âYouâre here!â she said, her voice filled with relief. âI was so worried. Are you okay?â
He smirked, though it didnât reach his eyes. âWhat, are you some kind of puppy?â he sneered. âI donât need you following me around.â
The words stung, but Mausi refused to let him see. âThatâs all you have to say?â she asked, her voice trembling. âAfter disappearing for so long?â
âI donât owe you anything,â he snapped. âIâm not your friend. Weâre not even on the same level.â
The boys around him laughed, their jeers echoing in the clearing.
Mausi blinked back tears, her heartbreaking in a way she didnât think was possible. âFine,â she said, her voice barely above a whisper. âSorry I cared.â
She turned and walked away, leaving the flowers sheâd brought for him lying on the ground.
The boy watched her go, his fists clenched at his sides. Every instinct screamed at him to call her back, to apologize, to tell her the truth. But he didnât. He couldnât.
âSheâs better off without me,â he told himself. âEverything I care about gets taken away. Itâs better this way.â
But as her figure disappeared into the shadows of the woods, he felt the weight of his words crushing him. For the first time in his young life, he wondered if pushing someone away hurt more than losing them.
A/N: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to publish this chapter. Thank you so much for the love and support this story has gained. We got a flashback, wonder who that boy is. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you so much for the love and support on this story again. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it. I think that's all. Thanks for reading <3
#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake seresin x reader#top gun maverick#ftwc#glen powell#glen powell imagine#jake hangman seresin fanfiction#beauty and the beast#fairy tales#hangman x reader#top gun#top gun hangman fanfiction#maverick top gun#top gun au#top gun fanfiction#top gun hangman#top gun fandom#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman seresin#hangman x you
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Chapter: 2/3
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Category: M/M
Fandom: Top Gun (Movies)
Relationships: Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Carole Bradshaw/Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw & Tom "Iceman" Kazansky
Character: Charlotte "Charlie" Blackwood
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dreams, Mutual Pining, Denial of Feelings, Idiots in Love, Fluff, Angst, Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, YES BETA!!!, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Feelings Realization, POV Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Survivor Guilt, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw Lives, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Misunderstandings, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Drinking, Protective Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Developing Relationship
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Again, I would like to say "Thank you" for a million times to my amazing beta readers, Bio @impasta-wall and Fizzy @snonkerdoodlefizzy221b. Thank you for your help, support, and all the efforts to make this so much better. This story won't be here without you and I simply can't thank you enough đđ
Please mind the trigger warnings for this chapter in the note of this chapter on AO3.
He was looking into a pair of pale eyes. Were they blue? Green? Brown? Or grey? He couldn't tell for sure. All he knew was that he could gaze at them for an eternity.
The eyes were bright and intelligent, exuding a cool intensity. They could see right through him, leaving his soul naked, but he felt safe and loved, like he was wrapped in a blanket on a winter day.
There were small wrinkles in the corner of those eyes - the person must've been smiling broadly.Â
Were they smiling because they saw him?
They must've been, because the eyes were full of fondness, and he had never been looked at like this beforeâLike he was the most precious treasure in the universe.
Soft light poured down on them and a silver mist enveloped everything. They were standing very close to each other, with noses almost touching (and wasn't that a gorgeous nose), but the small distance still seemed unbearable.
Obviously the other one was thinking of the same thing, because large hands came up to cradle his face. Long and delicate fingers caressed his cheeks with such tenderness that he wanted to cry.
âSo beautiful,â the person said. Their voice was muffled, but still rich and deep. âYou are so beautiful, babe.â
(Continue to read on AO3)
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tagging: @archhis
Also tagging (I know you didn't make the request to be tagged, but I noticed that you have expressed some interest in this story before. If you don't want to be tagged for upcoming chapters, I apologize and please do let me know!!!): @friend-lover-traitor-narrator @frozen-seagrass @mystys-spam @nyree2712 @kcsplace @randomtacoscry
#icemav#top gun#top gun 1986#tom iceman kazansky#pete maverick mitchell#iceman x maverick#top gun: maverick#top gun fanfiction#nick goose bradshaw#carole bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#tom kazansky#pete mitchell
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Love of my Life
summary: the dagger squad meets hangman's best-kept secret
jake seresin x reader
word count: 1490
warnings: no editing, fluff
a/n: this popped into my head the other night... enjoy! also this gif makes me CHOKE ohmylord
song rec: love of my life - harry styles
masterlist
It wasnât on purpose. Nights when you and Jake ended up at the same bar were never planned, mostly because your friends from work always wanted to go somewhere downtown, and Jakeâs friends from work always wanted to go to the Hard Deck so there was never a chance for the two groups to intersect.Â
Tonight, however, your friends had enough of hearing about all your nights at the Hard Deck with your fighter pilot husband who drops by work every once and a while with lunch or a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. They decided to venture out to the Hard Deck tonight for your monthly get-together and you werenât going to miss an opportunity to ogle at your husband from across the bar while he played darts and pool with his Dagger Squad friends who just so happened to be in town visiting.Â
And thatâs exactly where you found yourself on this lovely Friday night. Your friend walked over to your standing table with another drink for you and you thanked her with a smile. She immediately started diving into some workplace gossip, keeping her voice quiet since so many of your colleagues had managed to make it out tonight. You half-listened to her go on how bad the break room refrigerator smelled the other day but your real focus was on Jake who was playing pool with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Bob. He had Bob on his team and you were surprised to see him actually give the man a chance to play without correcting or coaching him.Â
You knew all about the Dagger Squad, when Jake was first sent out here you followed him, even knowing this wouldnât be a permanent duty station, and he talked about everyone he was competing against non stop. From the moment he came home after training you were getting a full rundown of the days happening (you were sworn to secrecy of the top secret events, of course). You learned quickly who was who, even if you never got the opportunity to meet them.Â
After the mission, you were pulling out boxes and getting ready to move what little belongings you brought over to the island when Jake came home and surprised you to your core. He accepted a teaching position here on the North Island and you were staying for the foreseeable future.Â
You were shocked but over the moon. Jake would be in one spot for at least a couple years and wouldnât be off on deployments and missions so often. You could start a family and he could actually be there for all of it.Â
âHello? Anybody home?â A hand waving in front of your face brought you out of memories and a trance you hadnât realized you were in. You laughed and smiled at your friend, but not before catching the eye of Phoenix, who totally caught you staring at Jake.Â
âSorry, sorry, got a little lost there.â You waved her hand out of your face and took another sip from your drink.Â
âIâll say,â she laughed, âI mean, I get it.â Her eyebrows wagged and you laughed heartily, throwing your head back. She was always complimenting your choice of husband and you had to agree with her, he was fine as hell.Â
âFuck, I think one of his friends just caught me staring,â you said once the laughter died down.Â
âRemind me again why he doesnât tell them about you?âÂ
âIt started off as a joke,â you start, âhe wanted to see how long it would take one of them to notice, and now itâs just an ongoing bet we have.âÂ
âA bet I am about to win, by the way.â Jake suddenly appears behind you and youâre happy to see him until his words sink in.
âYouâre not allowed to interfere!â You point at him and he just laughs.Â
âNo interference, I promise.â He leans on the table you two are standing at and you almost forget about the bet for a second because his green eyes still captivate you even after all this time.Â
âWell, what are you doing over here then?â
âSee now, thatâs where it gets interesting because someone caught you looking at me,â he tips his beer over in the direction of his friends, who scatter like chickens when you turn your head to look at them, âand they bet me $20 that I couldnât walk over here and get your phone number.âÂ
âHmmm, seems like fair play to me.â Your friend interjects, looking contemplatively between you and your cheating husband.Â
A noise comes out of your mouth, somewhere between disbelief and betrayal. You only had one month left before the bet was yours and you could claim your prize and now this happens, the perfect opportunity falls right into Jakeâs lap.Â
âDid none of them notice the giant ring on my finger?â You hold up your wedding rings, which glint even in the dim bar lighting and Jake takes your fingers in his hand, bending them towards himself before placing a kiss on your knuckles. You swoon. Itâs impossible not to. âDonât try to distract me, youâre in trouble.âÂ
âCome on darlinâ,â His hand fell away from yours but moved slyly around your hip, where it curled around the belt loops of your shorts, and just then, while his face was inching towards yours, your wedding song came on.Â
âWhen did this song get added to the jukebox?âÂ
âI may have put in a special request.â His smile did you in. You met him halfway and when your lips met that familiar kaleidoscope of butterflies took flight. Jake pulled away just to smile at you some more before pressing a few quick kisses to your lips. When he backed away enough, you took the chance to look over his shoulder and see what his friends thought.Â
The entire group was standing around, completely gobsmacked at what just occurred and you could only imagine what was running through their minds.Â
âAfter you, Mrs. Seresin,â Jake whispered in your ear. You gave him the best glare you could but he just laughed and grabbed your hand to walk you over to the group of people you already felt like you knew.Â
Jake chuckled as you got within ear shot. âEveryone, Iâd like you to meet someone,â he pulled you under his arm and you automatically slid your own across his back, âthis is my wife.â He said it with genuine pride, a stark contrast to his usual cocky tone everyone was used to.Â
âWife?â Rooster repeated, dumbfounded.
âPick your jaw up off the floor, Bradshaw.â
You ignored Jake and introduced yourself to everyone with a quick wave. âItâs nice to finally meet you all.âÂ
There was a beat of silence while you watched everyone process what was happening, but Phoenix broke it with a laugh. âYouâve been holding out on us, Bagman!âÂ
âYeah, what the hell, man!â Rooster seemed downright offended that Jake would keep such a secret from them and you couldnât help but laugh.Â
âItâs not all Jakeâs fault,â You come to his defense, âwe had a bet going, which I just lost.âÂ
âWhat bet did you two have?â Bob asked, coming forward to introduce himself to you properly.Â
You shook his outstretched hand, smiling. âWe wanted to see how long it would take for someone to figure out he was married.â
âYou⊠you donât wear a wedding ring?â Rooster seemed to be having the hardest time with this revelation and it was cracking you up.Â
Jake pulled his dog tags out from under his shirt, proudly turning them around to display his gold wedding band that perfectly matched the one around your finger. They both belonged to his grandparents and he was so proud to give you his grandmother's band on your wedding day.Â
Phoenix studied the two of you for a moment, watched the way you started to sway to a song and Jake immediately joined in, watched how his attention always drifted back to you, and how his entire cocky dimenor melted away as soon as you were near.Â
âSo, whatâs the story? How did you manage to bag Hangman?â Natasha asked, leaning her hands on the pool cue in front of her.Â
Jake pretended to be offended. âIâm not that wild.âÂ
You roll your eyes affectionately before diving into the story of how you and Jake met. It was nothing spectacular or anything you would want to make a movie about, but it was a whirlwind romance that ended in the two of you married in the Seresin familyâs backyard three summers ago.Â
When you finished your story, all smiles for your husband, Rooster raised his beer in a toast. âWelcome to the family, Mrs. Seresin.âÂ
Jake couldnât help but smile. It felt good to let the team in on his best-kept secret, even if he was gonna pay for her losing the bet later on tonight.Â
---
thanks for reading ily
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Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.
Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking
Length: 5700 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"
"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."
"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.
"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."
"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.
"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."
He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."
"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"
"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat."Â
"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"
"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.
"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend."Â
When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."
"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"
Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."
Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board.Â
"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."
"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"
"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.
"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.
"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."
A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.
You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."
-----------------------
I'll let you know if I need you.
Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.
So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck.Â
It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.
"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.
"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there.Â
She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."
Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.
"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."
"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up.Â
Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."
When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"
He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.
"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."
When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."
He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"
She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."
"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."
She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."
He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"
"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."
He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.
'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'
"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"
Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered.Â
He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.
Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too! A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.
Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.
"Hey, are you Bradley?"
He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.
"Julian?"
"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"
"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.
"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."
Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."
Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."
He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."
"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"
Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking."Â
"What's it say?"
He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense.Â
"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."
"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."
"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."
"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."
Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall.Â
"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"
"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."
When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"
"Good luck!"
The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.
"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host.Â
"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"
"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."
"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.
"No. They left about an hour ago."
"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again.Â
'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'
He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"
Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"
"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.
"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."
Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."
"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"
"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."
"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."
Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more?Â
"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back?Â
That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.
"You got this!"
Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.
"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID."Â
Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard.Â
"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."
"No ID, no entrance."
"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.
"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties.Â
She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."
"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.
"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."
"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."
Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"
Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."
"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.
"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."
She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."
Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."
"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone.Â
"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"
"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."
Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.
"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."
Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.
"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again.Â
"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.
"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."
"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him.Â
"She's not here?"
"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.
"Well, where are we going next?"
Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."
"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.
It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.
"Yeah, you're right, Julian."
"About what, my man?"
Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."
Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."
But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here.Â
He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.
Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.
Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.
When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"
"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.
"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"
Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."
But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."
"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."
He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."
Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."
He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"
With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.
----------------------------
There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.
"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone.Â
As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.
"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."
When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."
You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.
He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."
"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."
He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.
"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.
"You really don't remember?"
Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.
"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.
"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"
"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"
He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."
"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb.Â
"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this.Â
You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"
He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him.Â
"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.
Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.
"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.
"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.
"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.
"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."
"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."
As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."
"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.
"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."
He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."
"Is it really so bad that I do?"
His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."
"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."
You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"
He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."
Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.
"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."
But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.
This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"
"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"
"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."
"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."
You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.
"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."
-----------------------------
He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
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Two Lines
Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female!reader
The last thing Jake expected to see first thing in the morning was a pregnancy test in the trash can. And he definitely didnât expect a debate with his wife about what those two lines meant.Â
Word count: 1.5K
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It took a lot to shock Jake âHangmanâ Seresin.
Not only had he made it through a military academy, he was a combat pilot whoâd seen action in two war zones and had medals to back up his claim that he was one of the Navyâs best.
But the sight of the pink-capped test in the bathroom trashcan had him choking on his toothbrush.
Adrenaline shot through him, waking him up from the half-stupor heâd been in. It was still early before your alarm went off. But youâd been restless all night, tossing and turning and grumbling about what a stupid idea it was to get your work-mandated flu shot at the same time as your COVID booster.
âNot sure why you did it,â heâd teased, brushing the hair from your eyes. âYou always feel like crap after.â
âI know,â you whined, curling closer to him even as your body ached and your stomach clenched. âI just needed to get it out of the way, and since I donât have any clients tomorrow, I figured I could call out sick if I needed to.â
But that didnât explain the pregnancy test in the trash.
After just under a year of marriage, you werenât actively trying to get pregnant, but neither were you trying to prevent it. Both of you were in agreement that youâd be happy to have kids if it happened, but you were also satisfied with it being just the two of you for a while, or even forever.
Your period being late wasnât uncommon, especially when you were stressed. And with the clinic officially understaffed and you taking on a larger client panel while trying to balance groups and to promote to a leadership spot, Jake knew you were stressed. For the first time, heâd seen you working on the weekend to catch up on session notes and submit consults, making sure your clients were getting connected to the services they needed.
The test was probably just for peace of mind, he reasoned, forcing himself to finish brushing his teeth while keeping his eyes on the trashcan. It wasnât the first time youâd taken one, but it was the first time you hadnât told him about it⊠that he knew of. And if youâd thrown it away, it had to be negative. Youâd stumbled back to bed just an hour ago after using the bathroom, waking him as you collapsed back onto the mattress and declaring that you were calling in sick. When heâd pulled you to his chest and kissed your forehead, heâd felt your low-grade fever.
Just like heâd expected. It was why heâd stopped at the Commissary on the way home from work, grabbing bananas, applesauce, and bread to make sure you had something to eat while wallowing on the couch between naps.
Besides, he knew heâd be joining you on Saturday - he had his appointment to stop at the base hospital and get his mandatory annual flu shot, too. While it didnât take him out like it did with you, heâd never pass up an excuse to have a lazy weekend.
With a forced nonchalance that he didnât feel, Jake put away his toothbrush before reaching for the pregnancy test. Turning it, he saw two lines.
Two lines.
Jake stared, mouth dropping open. His eyes darted from the lines to the diagram on the side of the window, explaining how to interpret the results, feeling a strange sensation of excitement and terror at the confirmation.
Pregnant.
You were pregnant.
Confusion tempered his joy as he set the test on the counter and took a step back, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to scrub away any lingering sleep. But when his vision cleared, there was no denying it.
Two dark lines.
Grabbing the door handle, Jake forced himself to take a deep breath before walking back into the bedroom. Youâd dozed off again, breathing even and face half-hidden by your sleep mask. Heâd bought you the first one as a joke when youâd moved in after a week of grumbling when he turned on the lights to get ready for work. While you both left the house at the same time - him to head to the base, and you to the hospital - he enjoyed taking his time with his morning routine, while you preferred hitting the snooze button as many times as possible before sprinting to get ready and out of the house on time.
You groaned when he sat at your hip, planting one hand on the mattress and reaching up to nudge the mask to your forehead. Refusing to open your eyes, you slapped at his hand, âLeaâme alone,â you grumbled.
âYou got something to tell me, sweetheart?â he asked, forcing his voice to be even. While he was excited about the pregnancy, if youâd thrown the test away, you might not be.
ââM not goinâ to work,â you sighed, rolling onto your side and hugging your pillow tightly.
âI know. Anything else?â
âLove you, have a gooâday.â Your words slurred as you started to drift again. When he said your name, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone, you sighed and rolled onto your back. Kissing the tips of your fingers, you held them up for him. âI feel gross and donât wanna kiss you in case itâs not the shot.â
âIs that why you took the pregnancy test?â One eye cracked open, and you saw your husband smiling down at you, a slightly manic gleam in his sea-green eyes.
Shrugging, you yawned, âKinda. But it was negative.â Jake was silent for a long moment, and you felt him place a hand on your stomach.
âDarlinâ⊠the test wasnât negative.â
âIt was.â
Jake barked a laugh. âThere are two lines!â
âI know.â
âTwo lines is pregnant!â
âTwo lines is negative.â
âNo, itâs not,â Jake argued. Huffing, you opened both eyes to glare at him.
âI read UAs twice a week at work, Jacob. I know what a negative result looks like.â As the person in charge of the Contingency Management program in your clinic, you administered and read urine drug screens, knowing with a quick glance if there were prescription or illicit substances in your clientâs sample. If the two lines popped up for a negative result for their targeted substance - meaning theyâd been abstinent - they earned the opportunity to draw for a prize. A single line meant that they had traces of the substance in their system, providing a positive result.
âMaybe for drug tests, but obviously not for a pregnancy test.â
âMove,â you grumbled, bumping your legs against him to get out of bed.
âWhere are you going?â Jake asked.
âTo prove you wrong.â Chuckling, he stood and smirked when you threw your sleep mask onto your pillow and brushed away the hand he offered to help you out of bed. The bathroom light was still on, and he followed behind you as you picked up the test heâd left on the sink, holding it in front of his face. âSee? Two lines. Negative.â
Taking the test, Jake put his thumb over the Not Pregnant example and held it in front of your eyes. âSee? Two lines. Pregnant.â He could only smile as your gaze shifted from glaring at him to squinting down at the test - you hadnât put your glasses on yet. He watched your eyes widen with shock, darting from the instructions to the result window. Your lips parted, but no words escaped as your eyes rose to meet his again. âSay somethinâ, sweetheart.â
âWhy the FUCK are my POC cups the only damn thing that has a single line as positive?â you demanded.
That startled a laugh out of him, and Jake tossed the test back onto the counter and tugged you into his arms. Your fingers dug into his back, and he could feel you shaking. âYou alright, darlinâ?â
You were silent for a long moment before sighing, âJust realizinâ that Iâm gonna be triple-checking results for a while. Itâs gonna make my appointments run so much longer.â
Chuckling, Jake pulled away just far enough to meet your watery gaze. âWhat about this one? You gonna triple-check it?â
âI mean, youâve pretty much done it.â An embarrassed smile flit across your mouth. âIs this where you say âI told you soâ?â
âPretty sure this is where I say I love you,â Jake replied, leaning down to kiss you softly. Carefully, he backed you up until your ass hit the counter and lifted you onto it. Your legs wrapped around his hips, arms draped across his shoulders as his hands slid under your shirt to wrap around your waist.
âLove you too. You ready to be a daddy?â
âHell yeah. You ready to be a mama?â The question made you pause, but the steady confidence your husband exuded made you smile. Even if you werenât quite ready, he would be there to help you get there.
âYeah,â you said after a moment.
It would take you a couple of weeks to feel confident interpreting the UA results with a glance again, but you even chuckled when you started telling people about the pregnancy, and Jake boasted that he was the one telling you that you were pregnant.
After all, how many fathers got the chance to do that?
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Author's Note: This little fic has been on my mind since yesterday when I had to fill in last minute for our CM clinic when a clinician called out sick, and had to administer and interpret 2 UAs in 30 minutes, then do brief counseling with the gentlemen before going. I've laughed with my friends before about how our POC cups (the same ones in the graphic above) are one of the only tests where two lines is negative.
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You Called My Wife?
This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.
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Masterlist
Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.
Enjoy.
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Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.
If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.
His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.
It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.
They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.
Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.
He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.
He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.
He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.
Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.
It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.
He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.
After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.
He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.
It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.
A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.
"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.
The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.
He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.
When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.
He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.
He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.
"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.
He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.
"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.
"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."
He didn't know what happened.
One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.
His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.
But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.
The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.
The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.
The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.
An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.
The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.
Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.
It felt like he'd been shot in the head.
He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.
His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.
The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.
"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.
The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.
"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.
His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.
"I'm sorry-"
A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.
"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.
Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.
"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.
He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.
The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.
He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.
He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.
"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.
The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.
"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.
Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.
His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.
Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.
He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.
He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."
True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.
By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.
"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.
They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.
He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.
"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."
Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.
Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.
A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.
"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.
"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.
At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.
***
"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"
He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.
Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.
Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.
She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.
The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.
"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.
"He's with a doctor, come with me."
(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.
She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?
She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.
"What happened?"
"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."
(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.
That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.
Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.
It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.
Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.
Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.
"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.
Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.
"You called my wife?"
The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.
There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.
"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."
Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.
"You're married?"
"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."
(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.
She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.
With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.
"Why didn't you tell us?"
"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.
He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.
He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.
Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.
For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.
With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.
"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."
"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.
He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.
"How bad is it then?"
Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.
He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.
His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.
All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.
"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.
"I can think of a few things."
"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.
"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.
He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.
"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."
Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.
"When can I take him home?"
"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."
Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.
He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.
A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.
Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.
"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."
"Copy that."
"Thank you for patching him up."
When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.
The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.
"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.
She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.
"But I know you love my war wounds."
#imagine#jake hangman fic#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick
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four eyes. | BF x Reader
PAIRINGS: Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader
SYNOPSIS: asking bob to make a mess of himself on your face while you wear his glasses? absolutely.
WORD COUNT: 1.8k
WARNINGS: ahem, SMUT, established relationship, profanity, oral (m!receiving), deepthroating, facial, handjob, cum eating, dirty talk, begging, slightly sub!reader, praise, aftercare and such sweet affection from bobby, not proofread and mdni!!, reader is a minx, brief mention of term âslutâ, size kink, awkward sweetheart w a big dick!bob,
A/N: this is the most filthiest shit Iâve ever written and if you like this ur crazy⊠*reblogs, comments and likes the post*
âWhat are you up to?â he drawls, watching carefully as you crawl over his naked midriff and through the sea of bedsheets. Post-sex endorphins were through the roof right now for Bob, a wave of happy tiredness sweeping over the pilot.
You huff, hand outstretched as you reach for Bob's glasses perched on the bedside table.
âI wanna try these onâ you say to him, balancing yourself as you try to grab the frames. Bob chuckles, a hand coming to rub your ass lovingly.
You bit your lip to fight the feeling of a grin spreading on your face, the feeling of Bob's soft hands tickling you as you playfully pushed him away, all the while he simply beams at you.
The hand supporting yourself on his hard chest slips, causing you to collapse on top of your boyfriend, your naked breasts brushing over his cock and sending a shiver down his spine.
A firm hand comes to still yourself. âCarefulâ he says softly, hands warm.
Bob looks over, grabbing the glasses just as you were about to pick them up, and holding them out of your reach. You protest, trying to get ahold of the frames you loved so much. Bob puts them on, allowing himself to properly see his girl.
âYou donât wanna wear these, they donât look good on anyone. Including me.â he mumbles, adjusting you on top of him.
But you're quick to swipe them off his face, ignoring Bob's laughs when you put the glasses on yourself and straddle his hips. âI like them, theyâre cute,â you tell him.
âWell what dâya know?â Bob utters softly to himself when he sees you, gazing up at his girl wearing the steel rimmed aviators and looking absolutely breathtaking.
âHi there, four eyesâ he chuckles, finding it odd saying a phrase heâs been nicknamed all his childhood. Hell, even Seresin has no problem calling him that to this day.
Bob smiles, strong but soft hands coming to rest on your hips as you sat dangerously close to where his happy trail leads to. Your brows furrowed as you viewed the world through his lenses.
âJesus, Bob, you really are blind!â You uttered, looking down at the blurry man seated against the bedpost.
Bobâs become busy at the moment, pressing pecks to your hardended nipples. He simply nods, pretending heâs listening.
âYou should go to the eye doctor, honeyâ
Bob peaks through, giving you a look. âThatâs where I got themâ
âHm.â
The room is silent, a soft glow of the afternoon sunlight peeking through the white shutters. You feel the corners of Bobâs lips curling into a smile against your skin, a silent worship to your body.
âYouâre so soft.â he murmurs.
âHoney,â you call to your boyfriend.
âHm?â Bob replies absentmindedly, still brushing his face along your chest, hugging you closer.
You tug on his brown locks, pulling his head from your body and looking down at him.
âI wanna try something.â you grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes mixed with a bottle of excitement. You quickly press a kiss to his lips.
Bob watches as you pull from his grasp, lips forming a small frown from the loss of contact as you shuffled down the bed so you were now kneeling on the floor by the edge.
Bob looks over at you quizzically, wondering what you were up to before you beckon towards him, ushering him to sit at the edge of the bed.
âCome sit, Robertâ you directed, calling him by his birth name to get his attention.
His soft cock limps near his thighs as he adjusts himself, sitting before you in all his naked glory, hair tousled by your hands and a pink blush ghosting his cheeks. His hand comes up to play with your hair, tucking a loose strand behind your ear. You look up in seriousness and confess.
âI want you to cum on these glassesâ
Bob stops all motion, hand still tucked behind your ear. The room falls silent.
âWhat?â
You ignore the bafflement of your crimson cheeked boyfriend, bending down to lick a long stripe up his veiny shaft. A loud moan and harsh tug against your scalp brings you to take him further, almost triggering your gag reflexes. It all happens so fast. Bob mutters incoherently from the sudden gesture, both of you going slightly insane when your nose presses against his pubic bone as tears form near your eyes.
âBaby, hold on a moment, Jesus fuck!â
Youâre worried youâre going to make a mess on the floor from the way your slick almost drips from your pussy.
Youâve been thinking of this fantasy for a while if you were to be honest. Bob pulls you back, gasping for air as a proud feeling settles in your chest. Itâs not everyday you hear Bob cuss like that.
Heâs panting hard, watching as a bit of saliva is smeared on your lips, eyes glossy. Bob sighs in exasperation as you decide to stroke his cock with your hands.
âYou gotta let me speak-â
âPlease, Bobbyâ you beg, pressing kisses to the pink tip and relishing in the way you feel him harden in your hand. A loud groan escapes Bob's throat, feeling sensitive despite having had sex the whole afternoon with you.
âI want you to cum while I have your glasses onâ you told him, kitten licks getting the best of your boyfriend. âLike in those pornosâ you mumble softly, your shy giggles driving Bob insane.
âNobody says pornos anymoreâ he mumbles telling you, swallowing hard when you tug on his cock tighter for not responding.
Bob clears his throat. âYou, um, want me to give you a facial?â He asks softly, holding onto your hand that's stroking his cock.
You nod eagerly.
âA-Are you sure?â He says, worried that taking him like this is gonna wear you out. In all honesty, the boy canât help but grow hard at the thought of cumming all over your innocent face, big eyes covered by his glasses milked by his seed.
You nod, excitement and horniness flowing through your body.
âPlease, honey, I want you to see me paintedâ you sighed, thumb brushing over the thick tip, smearing precum over the slit.
Bob thinks heâs gonna cum just from this angle, but he needs you so badly he tries to regain composure. He bends down to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips and letting your face be held in his soft touch. âLet me know if it's too much babyâ he addresses in concern, the tears on your cheeks worrying him.
You sniffle, nodding your head to assure him. âWant you so bad, Bobby, let me suck youâ
Your last few words are incoherent from the way you let Bobâs big cock stuff your throat, making you gag but desperately hold on. Bob lets go, both hands coming to balance himself on the edge, one gripping the bed sheets.
The sensation is fucking marvellous. You feel so full, loving the way the stretch of your mouth and untouched ache of your pussy turn you cockdrunk on Bob Floydâs dick.
You look up, desperate to see how he's taking you, wanting to see the expression of him getting the daylights sucked out of him.
Lieutenant Bob ruts his hips pathetically, trying so hard not to make a mess of your mouth and hurt you. His head is pulled back, groans falling from his soft lips as he praises you so good.
âThatâs it baby, doing so well for meâ he sighs, now two large hands coming to push you a little further, a groan falling from his lips as you take him fully now.
âGod, I love you!â he cries out loud, an instinctive response coming from your boyfriend as he caresses your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear. You smile, aviator lenses reflecting the light as your lips are wrapped securely around his dick.
âSo pretty, such a pretty girlâ he says under his breath, admiring the way your tits bounce along with every stroke on his cock. You gasp, pulling away as you let your fist do the rest.
âI love you too, Bobbyâ you gasped, looking up to find Bob staring at you intensely, with such a fierce gaze of love, sensuality, and pure awe.
âH-How,â he begins, starting to feel a familiar feeling settle inside him. âHow did I get so lucky with you?â He admits, wanting nothing more but to see his cum painting his glasses youâre wearing. He thinks he might just let you have them. Being able to see is overrated anyways.
âI think Iâm gonna cum, babyâ he lets out, watching as your eyes get eager, adjusting your sore knees so you can get the perfect angle.
âPlease baby, give it to meâ you begged, pussy so sensitive you have to make sure you hold yourself up enough so the cold wooden floors donât brush against your folds.
Watching you rub his dick like that, mouth open and face ready is an image Bob will have ingrained in his mind forever, a hot spurt of milky liquid shooting onto your lips as Bob finally gives you what you wanted.
Incoherent mumbles fill the sweaty bedroom, letting one hand cup his balls as the other makes sure to smear the warm fluid all over your lips, glasses starting to get foggy.
âFucking hellâ Bob cries out, spilling your name from his lips like a sacred mantra.
You hum, a wave of both happiness and satisfaction washing over you as you sit in front of Bobâs glory.
You let the man come down from his high, tasting salt and your boyfriend in your mouth. Before you can even clean yourself up, Bob is ripping off the dirtied glasses framing your face, and grabbing you towards him for a passionate kiss. The action makes you dizzy, your red, sore knees almost buckling under.
Itâs only a while after when he pulls away, grabbing for a box of tissues near the nightstand and pressing a kiss to your cheek. âIâm sorry for the messâ he replies shyly, the image of this tall, naked, handsome, and yet totally awkward giant taking care of you making it all worthwhile.
âItâs okayâ you reply, voice hoarse. You couldnât help but feel happy, even if you didnât cum (Bob would see to it later of course).
You feel him use the tissues to wipe your chin, face, and tits, or really, what was leftover after you sucked it all up like a slut.
âYouâre crazy sometimes, you know that?â Bob mumbles, shaking his head as he smiles at you, his soft touch so rewarding.
You laugh, latching your arms around his neck and letting him hoist you up so easily. His semi-hard cock limps against your stomach, both of you standing up and lips pressing together in another soft kiss.
âThank you for the most mind blowing head of my life.â He jokes.
âThanks for the facialâ you gleam, sucking your fingers with a pop that makes Bob weak, falling back down on the mattress and taking you with him so youâre straddling him again.
Bob reaches for the glasses, getting a tissue so he could wipe them before an idea pops in your head and you stop him.
You put on the glasses again. He looks up.
âBobby, whereâs the Polaroid camera?â
#oh my fuck I have done it again#dear Jesus itâs me again#fic: four eyes#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd fanfic#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd fic#bob floyd x you#top gun maverick smut#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#top gun bob floyd#lewis pullman#lewis pullman smut#lewis pullman fluff#lewis pullman x reader#bob floyd Angst#bob floyd imagine#top gun fic#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#promising young lady : enid writesđ#robert bob floyd
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Quiet Affections
Jake âHangmanâ Seresin x Pilot!reader
Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.
Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.
Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! đ I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. Iâm down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee
You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.
"Y/N, you know Hangmanâs got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.
You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."
Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless heâs talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.
Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."
You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."
Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.
Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.
Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"
Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."
You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."
Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. âDonât sell yourself short, Y/N. Itâs not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.â
In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.
You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noiseâthis stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.
Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.
The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jakeâs glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "youâll be dealing with me."
The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.
As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.
You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.
. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ .
Then there was the night when you couldnât sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.
The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.
Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.
You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "IâŠI just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."
Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxietiesâthe relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.
Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."
His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.
. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ .
You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.
. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ . â * .⥠*:ïŸ. Â Ę Ë àŁȘ .
And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoctionâan oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadnât even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.
These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasnât just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.
Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time thereâs a tender softness in his gaze that you hadnât noticed beforeâor perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.
âMiss me?â he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.
You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. âLike a bad habit, Seresin.â
But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends arenât so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.
Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.
You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.
For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldnât be easily shaken. One thing was for sureâthings were going to get interesting.
-
Text divider credits: @bunnysrph
#jake seresin#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x you#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fic#jake seresin imagine#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x you#hangman fanfiction#hangman x reader#hangman imagine#jake hangman seresin#hangman x y/n#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#bradley rooster bradshaw#fanboy garcia#bob floyd#natasha phoenix trace#javy coyote machado#payback fitch#glen powell
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12:29 AM
- your normally sober husband comes home drunk out of his mind after a party, and you canât say that heâs any less sweet. (robert âbobâ floyd x wife!reader, fluff, honestly one of the cutest things iâve ever written, â ïž obviously heavy themes of alcohol and being drunk, sexual innuendos but nothing graphic)
word count: 1,502
a/n - i havenât written a fic with a timestamp as the title in⊠(checks old blog) over three years?!? in any case, i hope you guys like drunk!bobby as much as i do <3 heâs definitely an emotional/clingy drunk imo.
Itâs not often that your husband stays out late, and itâs not often that he doesnât text you while heâs out, but you trust him. Heâs not the type to get blackout drunk or come home stumbling through the doorframe. Robert Floyd is a clearheaded and strong man.
Well, he looks neither right now, as heâs supported by Jake and Javyâs arms, glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose and a dopey smile brightening his face. Jake looks at you apologeticallyâ as apologetic as he can get for a situation thatâs likely his fault. âSorry, hun.â He huffs, shifting around Bobâs weight. âThere were a few too many fruity drinks ordered, and I guess he didnât realize they were full of alcohol.â
âYou guess?â You ask, rubbing the space between your eyebrows with your fingers. The two more sober men lead Bob into your bedroom, half-dragging him. They lay him down on your shared bed with a softened thump that has him groaning on top of the sheets. âI canât believe you guys.â
Bob went out with the rest of the squad for some coworkerâs promotion celebration, and he promised to come home perfectly sober, as always. He doesnât even need to promise, if youâre being honest, because thatâs just how he is; the most levelheaded person in the room. He would stay until it was socially acceptable for an acquaintance to leave, then he would head home and help you cook dinner to your favorite old school tunes. You never expected to see him shitfaced at 12:29 AM.
Javy shakes his head as he steps around you, taking Jake for a clean escape. âWe tried to warn him. I hope he feels better in the morning, but until then, weâre gonna have to leave him with you.â
You sigh, eyebrows just as pinched as they were before. For the first time ever, youâre scared that Bob is going to die in his sleep, and the thought frustrates you to no end. âThanks. Itâs so great that heâs drunk out of his mind, but I have to give you credit for getting him here in one piece.â Your tone is sarcastic enough to get the two men cringing in shame, but you also know that without them, he might still be at that party.
Jake pats you on the shoulder. âGood luck, soldier. Youâll need it.â
With that, Javy and Jake walk out of your bedroom, past your living room, and out of your house like they couldnât wait to leave. As you hear them close the door, you look down at your husband.
Heâs still conscious, thankfully. His eyes are slightly unfocused, heâs blushing like a madman, and heâs groaning lightly, but heâs not completely gone yet. You brush the damp hair away from his forehead and he whines just a bit.
âWife.â
You quirk your eyebrow in confusion. âYes?â
âI⊠have a wife. Yâ canât touch me like that.â He mumbles. It feels like heâs looking past you. Despite everything, you feel like laughing.
You adjust his glasses on his face and lean over him a little more, fully in his field of vision. âI am your wife.â
His eyes widen like heâs seeing you for the first time, and he smiles crookedly. He tries to sit up, but only manages to prop himself up on one arm as he takes in the sight of your face. âSâ pretty. Youâre really my wife? My girl?â In combination with the slurred words of someone down in the cups, the slight southern accent he took so much time to push away is coming back as he speaks to you.
âYes.â You confirm, kissing him on the cheek. He somehow smiles even wider and reaches out to touch the apples of your cheeks.
âLove you. I missed you.â He mumbles. âSpent that whole party wonderinâ when I could see you again.â He flops back down onto the springy mattress, throwing his arms up. He moves with the precision of a toddler, his limbs seemingly coated in lead. He almost smacks the glasses off his face as he motions to you with grabby hands.
âI missed you too, honey. Can we get you into your pajamas? Iâm sure you donât want to sleep in jeans and a polo.â As you ask that question, his fingers are already attempting to pull the shirt off of his body. It doesnât work very well, considering heâs still laying down, but you appreciate the effort. âSit up, my love.â
He sits up, winking at you heavily. Itâs more like a slow blink with how long it takes him to do it. âCanât wait to get me naked?â
A laugh escapes your mouth, and you smother the rest of your giggles with the heel of your palm as you gaze at his slightly crestfallen face. Heâs funny when drunk, apparently, even when he isnât trying to be. Itâs like seeing him completely unhinged with none of his usual, careful filters. âSure. You need to be in some state of undress to get your pajamas on, anyways.â
His face falls into a slight pout as you help him unbutton the top of his polo and slide it up his chest. He seems to notice how your hands hesitate when meeting the warm, taut skin of his abs, and the pout fades instantly. âLike it?â
âI always do.â You hum. He does have a great body, one that youâve found to be extraordinarily hot. Strong arms, tight muscles, and yet a gentleness in the way his hands hold yours. Right now, though, itâs a bit of a problem as youâre attempting to get his jeans off. Heâs still sitting, and you think you could lift weights for ten years and not be able to pull them out from under him. âCan you stand, Bobby?â
âGladly.â He sings. You help him stand, supporting a bit of his weight. He seems to find a little bit of his footing as his other arm presses into the wall, allowing the both of you to shimmy his pants down his legs and kick them to some unknown corner of the room.
You gather his neatly folded pajamas, a soft shirt and some plaid flannel pants, and help him put them on. Luckily for you, heâs been revitalized by your touch and is a little more helpful now. Heâs still moving awkwardly and shifting around like heâs constantly trying to get his balance straightened out, but itâs better than nothing. It would be hell to get him to do anything other than dress, though, so you settle for just getting him in bed. His dental hygiene routine will have to wait.
You lay him back down after heâs dressed and pull the blankets up to his chin, kissing his forehead gently and tucking his glasses in your dresser drawer. Youâre already ready for the night (the perks of thinking he would come home three hours ago), so you slip in bed next to him. He immediately pulls you into his arms, his body comfortingly warm. Heâs always run just a little hot, which is amazing on cooler nights like this.
He sighs contentedly before moving to stare directly into your eyes. âYâknow,â he starts, âI canât sleep without your arms âround me, and your legs âround me, and you breathing all sweet on my neck. âM up all night when Iâm deployed, at first anyways. My carrier roommates hate it.â
You shift just enough as to where your body is clutching on to him as tight as possible, and he hums in relief. Itâs like the little tension that he was holding dissipated entirely. âIâm sorry, baby. That must be hard.â You soothe.
âPayback gave me his pillow once so I could wrap it in my arms, but it didnât help. He threatened to âcome up there nâ cuddle me himselfâ if I didnât stop moving.â He scrunches his eyes closed at the memory. You do your best to suppress another bout of laughter, but he makes it even harder when he shivers like he isnât covered in three layers of blankets and you.
âDid he ever follow through?â You ask, pressing your lips together to stop from smiling. Bob shakes his head.
âThank god he didnât.â He utters. You turn to shove your face into your pillow to muffle your expressions. He just keeps his eyes closed, completely unaware of the fact that youâre losing it next to him.
When you finally come up for air, he is drifting in and out of sleep. âLove ya. Gânight.â He whispers. Itâs so soft that you almost start laughing again.
âGood night, Bobby. Love you too.â You say, kissing his cheek. You click off the lamp on your bedside table and snuggle deeper into his grasp.
Heâs going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning. At least heâll have his wife, breakfast in bed, and an aspirin to take care of him.
Taglist: @seitmai
#solar eclipse.#bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd#top gun maverick x reader#top gun#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd fic#bob floyd#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd#top gun headcanons#top gun x reader#top gun fandom#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie#top gun maverick#top gun bob
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Thatâs My Girl
Summary: Bradley has been looking after you for longer than he can remember. Youâve always been his favorite person. So when some guy makes an unwelcomed move on you, that last thing heâs going to do is just sit back and watch it happen.
Pairing: Bradley âRoosterâ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 6.7K
Warning: language, male chauvinism, allusions to smut, some angst with a happy ending
(author's note: this is a fic is set in the 'Like I Can' universe, however it can be read on it's own!
In hindsight, Bradley should have known how rowdy the crowd at the Hard Deck was going to be tonight.
Sailors fresh off a several months long deployment were always a boisterous bunch. But Sailors fresh from a deployment during San Diego Fleet Week were a different thing entirely.
The bar is packed and humid, even with the doors and windows opened for the Pacific breeze. Pennyâs old air conditioning unit might be on its last legs because Bradleyâs shirt is sticking to the skin of his back. Heâd nearly lost his mind when heâd seen that bead of sweat work its way down your neck and between your breasts when youâd pressed a kiss to his cheek and told him you were getting a refill and asked if he wanted anything.
Bradley really hoped youâd be up for leaving soon. He wouldnât mind taking a dip in the pool at your apartment. Or better yet, getting you to join him for a cool shower.
It wasnât the just the deep v of your tank top- or those sweet little embroidered flowers along the edges of it- that hand his fingers twitching to touch you. Although he liked those too.
It was that damn bow.
When Bradley had picked you up from your apartment earlier this evening and seen you wearing that, heâd given you a wolf whistle so loud it had caused your neighborâs dog to start barking.
Heâd taken advantage of your surprised laugh to back you up against your front door to get his mouth along the column of your neck. Heâs always been a big picture kind of guy. And he knew he wouldnât be satisfied until he was tugging open that bow between your breasts with his teeth.
Youâd all but sighed his name as your fingers tangled in his hair.
Bradley.
And just as heâd reached your collarbone, youâd pulled him back up to your mouth like you were going to kiss him and murmured Later against his lips before slipping past him, like the menace that you are, leaving him to chase after the trail of your perfume.
You knew what you were doing, that was for damn sure. Heâs always been a sucker for a bow. And for you.
Bradley had more than appreciated the extra sway youâd put in your hips just for him as you walked down your hallway towards the elevator. Heâd grinned to himself as he set off after you, because at the end of the night, his girlfriend would be coming home with him.
Earlier in the evening, Coyote had been fast to claim the cluster of tables that some Butterbars had left to close out their tabs, most likely onto their way to the next stop of many for the night. It was lucky timing, because thereâd been a nonstop steady stream of people making their way into the unofficial designated Naval watering hole for Fleet Week. There was a mix of civilians, Naval regulars who are stationed at North Island, and the visiting Sailors dressed in their uniforms on liberty. Bradley wasnât sure how many more bodies could be packed in until some of the worn wooden shingles of the bar started popping off.
The lively and loud atmosphere of Fleet Week was something that Bradley had typically enjoyed in the past. He liked seeing people cut loose and laugh as they swapped stories with their friends and families. And heâd been happy to do his part to add to the good times, having been pulled to the piano twice already.
Over the years heâd built up a curated collection crowd-pleasers for occasions just like this. Part peacocking, part coping. While heâs never been the type to shy away from being the center of attention, heâd also found it was easier to breathe in the spotlight. Because with everyoneâs eyes on him, it was impossible to feel alone.
So much has changed for him since getting permanently stationed in San Diego. And all for the better. That loneliness was a thing of the past, because now when he played, he was surrounded by all of his favorite people
But Bradley still ends his impromptu sets the same way he always has, with Jerry Lee Lewis. Only now he gets to sing it directly to the girl whoâd given him the sheet music to the song in the first place.
The same one, heâs realized, who hasnât returned back from getting her refill yet.
Bradley takes a quick glance around the corner of the bar theyâd laid claim too. Bob, Fanboy, and Payback were lounging against the side of the pool table chatting up some of the visiting Sailors, since there wasnât enough room to actually play a round without taking someone out with one of the cues. Coyote was leaning over the jukebox flipping through the albums with a pretty civilian who was out with her friends that heâd met and was clearly trying to impress. And Jake and Nat were seated with him at one of the tall round tables taking about the new Top Gun students, where your chair next to him was still empty.
Everyone was accounted for, except you.
There are so many people packed around the edges of the bar that it takes him a moment to find you. He thought maybe youâd been held up by Penny or Jimmy or some other familiar face, but he doesnât recognize the man who standing way too close to you. But the firm press of your lips tells him everything he needs to know.
He sees the next moment playout as if itâs in slow motion. Watching as you attempt to take a step back, only for the guy to wrap his hand around your wrist to keep you from moving away. Bradley sees you glance down at that hand on you, and back up at the stranger. He knows that look in your eyes as you shake out of his grip. You arenât just annoyed, youâre pissed.
Bradley slams his beer down and shoves his stool back.
He hears Jake curse behind him, âOh, shit.â
Chair legs screech against the wooden floor as his friends hustle to follow after him, but he doesnât wait for them to catch up.
Thereâs a trail of spilled cocktails and beers in his wake as he unapologetically weaves through the tightly crammed bodies that separate him from you. If anyone has an issue with him later, they can put a refill on his tab. But right now, his only goal is getting to you.
He doesnât slow for a second. He just struts right up and steps in between you and the other man.
âDo we have an issue here?â he rasps, folding his arms over his chest.
Bradley takes the guy in with a hard glower. The name tape on his uniform reads Wilson. A LTJG, based on his shoulder boards, from one of the visiting ships. The man is big, but Bradley is bigger. And he outranks him. The guy might not know it yet, but it was just another thing he was planning on making crystal clear.
You put a hand on his tense shoulder. âEverything is fine.â
âIt sure as shit doesnât seem fine.â He doesnât take his glare off of Wilson. âI think itâs time for you to go now.â He jerks his chin towards the front door.
âWeâre just having a friendly conversation,â the other man drawls, sending him a wink. The implied innuendo makes Bradleyâs jaw clench. There wasnât anything âfriendlyâ about the way heâd been using his size to keep you trapped at the bar.
The guy is trashed. Thereâs a blankness behind his eyes that Bradley doesnât like the look of. He must have pre-gamed before going out because Penny and Jimmy werenât ones to overserve.
âNo, what youâre doing is paying your tab and leaving this bar.â Itâs an order.
âBradley.â You say his name like a warning. âIâm handling it.â
You pull on his shoulder, but he shrugs you off.
âNo, kid, Iâm handling it for you.â This asshole was Bradleyâs problem to deal with now. Heâd tapped in the moment heâd seen the man touch you.
âI see.â Wilsonâs gaze bounces back and forth between the two of you, an oily grin appears on his face. âYouâve already got someone for tonight lined up. Damn, you didnât waste any time did you, sweet thing?â
Anger flares hot and bright in his stomach.
âYou better watch your mouth,â Bradley spits, pointing a threatening finger.
The bar around him blurs around the edges, but the man in front of him only gets sharper in focus.
You step around him and tug on his arm. From the corner of his eye, he can see you shaking your head at him. âBradley, stop. I told you, Iâve got it.â Your voice is clipped, tight. âLet me take care of it.â
He knows you want for him to let it go. To back off. And heâs about to- for you- because you want him to. But then he sees the guyâs eyes drop down to the exposed skin of your chest- to that bow between your breasts- and smirks.
Itâs a look so filthy that even Bradley feels dirty. He operates out of instinct. Stretching his arm in front of you, he purposefully pushes you back behind him to where he knows Seresin is standing close by, trusting that his friend will move you out of the way.
âA barrack bunny like you must know her way around. I donât mind another manâs sloppy-â
For a moment, Bradley isnât at the Hard Deck anymore. Heâs standing in Jason Cameronâs kitchen, where the smell of weed and cheap alcohol and Axe hung heavy in the air.
Bradleyâs fist flies on its own.
He barely registers the moment his knuckles connect with the other manâs jaw. He doesnât see the man stumble backwards into the table behind him. He doesnât hear the surprised gasps or the sound of glass breaking or the thud as the man hits the floor. Thereâs only the color red and the sound of his own ragged breathing.
When he shakes off the memory and returns back to his body, heâs almost surprised to see the broken bottles on the floor and not shards from a sliding glass door.
The next few minutes are a flurry of chaos as Wilsonâs friends come and scoop him off the floor to make their exit. From the looks of irritation on their faces, it seems like this might be an all too frequent occurrence. He makes a mental note to try and look up the manâs supervising officer. And if he canât find them on his own, heâll ask Mav to help.
He can feel dozens of eyes on him, but he canât bring himself to care.
Bradley takes a moment to apologize to Penny. He avoids looking directly in her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment heâs sure is there. The adrenaline is still coursing and sparking through his body. He needs a moment to work off his anger and get his head back on straight before he comes to check on you. But he knows youâre in good hands with his friends.
Without being asked, he rights the table and stools on his way to the supply closet to grab a broom and dustpan. He takes his time meticulously picking up the bits of broken glass off the ground before he sweeps the rest of it up as he waits for his heartrate to settle back down.
When heâs done, he spots Nat and Jake sitting at the bar top and heads towards them. But for the second time tonight, youâre not where you should be.
âThat was some left hook, Bradshaw,â Nat says, pinning him with a flat look over the top of her drink.
He ignores the comment. âHave either of you seen my girlfriend?â
Jake lifts his hand up at about your height. âAbout this tall? Great smile? Dating a man thatâs clearly punching?â He chuckles to himself. âNo pun intended.â Those dimples of his are more grating than usual.
Bradleyâs hand flexes in irritation. His quick fuse is on its way to being lit again.
âSeresin,â he barks, low on patience, âWhereâd she go?â
The other man lets out a low whistle and shares a look with Nat. âShe left out the side patio door like ten minutes ago. Looked like she was about to spit nails too.â
âGoddammit,â he mumbles under his breath. He turns to Phoenix. âDid she really look that pissed?â
She shrugs. âIâm surprised she didnât punch you, I probably would have.â
Bradleyâs mouth drops open. âFor what? For defending her?â
All he did tonight was stand up for you when someone crossed a line and tried to get physical with you. He wasnât ashamed for doing it, heâd do it again in a heartbeat.
âBut did she want you to do that?â she asks, deliberately.
He doesnât understand why Nat is giving him a hard time about this.
âThatâs my girl and that guy wasnât listening.â
Nat lifts a pointed eyebrow at him, âSounds familiar.â
Bradley forces out a breath. âThat was different and you know it.â
âAll Iâm saying is I think she was making herself pretty clear, but you chose not to hear her and did what you wanted anyways.â His teeth clench together as a rock lands hard in his stomach. âAnd from the sound of it, she wanted to handle it her own way.â
âYeah, butâŠâ Youâre his, he wants to say, but holds back at the risk of sounding like the jealous boyfriend Nat thinks heâs being. Except he wasnât being jealous, he just wanted to protect you.
âNo buts, Rooster. You fucked up.â
Nat has always been a straightshooter. It was one of the things heâs always appreciated most about her, that and her keen ability to read people. He trusted her judgement. And if she feels this way, even if he didnât necessarily agree with it, then the chances are very high that you do too.
âShit.â
âYeah, âshitâ. Now go fix it.â She pats his shoulder once, and then gives him a shove to the side door theyâd seen you leave from.
Itâs cooler outside.
The ocean breeze feels good on his hot, sticky skin. Bradley feels like he can breathe a little easier without all those people milling around him.
Youâre not hard to spot. To anyone else youâd a solidary figure facing the ocean, but heâd know the shape of you anywhere.
From what Seresin said, Bradley had figured youâd be half way down the beach. Heâd been planning just to follow the trail of steam to find you. But youâre still as a statue with your arms wrapped around yourself as you stare out at the inky waves.
The noise from the bar is muffled inside the walls of the Hard Deck, but still slips out from the windows that are cracked open and follows him as he walks towards you. The sand shifts beneath his shoes with every step he takes. The tunes from Pennyâs jukebox get carried away on the wind and are replaced with the gentle roar of the waves as he approaches you.
The days are getting longer and dusk is rolling in. The sun is hanging low in the sky. Not quite set, but well on its way. Heâd love nothing more than to pull you into his lap in one of the Adirondack chairs to watch the last glimmering moments of golden hour with you in his arms. But knows thatâs probably not in the cards for tonight.
The two of you have had fights before. Usually over stupid, inconsequential things. Arguing with you feels different now than when it did when you were just friends. Now that youâre his girlfriend, it feels like thereâs more at stake. He knew heâd never forgive himself if he fumbled the best thing thatâs ever happened to him.
Bradley wants to skip over this part to where the two of you are back on the same page. He wants to skip to the part where he gets to see your dimples and hear you laugh.
He stops just a few feet behind you. He knows you know heâs there, in that uncanny way youâve always been able to sense him. The minutes tick by as he stands there and waits for you to acknowledge him. Or to turn around and shoot him that withering glare of yours. Heâd take anything other than your silence.
But you donât.
You give him nothing, which is almost worse.
It feels like a standoff.
He folds first.
âSweet girl,â Bradley says, with a resigned sigh.
He doesnât miss the way your whole body tenses at the sound of his voice.
âI donât want to talk to you right now, Rooster.â
The way you say his callsign lands like a punch in the gut.
Youâre only standing a few feet away from him, but it feels like the two of you are miles apart.
âCâmon, kid, that asshole is gone now. Come back inside.â
âSeriously?â you laugh bitterly, still refusing to look at him. âYouâre seriously going to ignore me right now too? I said I donât want to talk right now.â
He feels his jaw tick. âLook, Iâm sorry,â he starts, still not feeling sorry in the least, âBut-â
You put a hand up and whirl on him, shaking your head in disbelief. The thunderous look on your face would have a lesser man taking a step back, instead Bradley steels his spine and digs his feet into the sand. Â
âI really donât want to hear it. I donât think Iâve ever been this mad at you,â you fume. âNot even in high school when you got in that stupid fucking fight at that Homecoming party when I had to take you to the hospital.â
He presses his lips together firmly. There was a time and place for a conversation about that night, the one where heâd earned the scars on his face, but it wasnât here and now. It was a secret heâd kept to himself for nearly two decades, the only other person whoâd known the full story was his mom. But telling you about it now would only make things worse.
You continue, like a freight train without brakes, âAnd youâd been drunk then. Not that that excuses anything. But youâve had, what? Two beers tonight?â When you lift your eyebrows at him expectantly, he nods curtly in confirmation. âSo tell me what the hell just happened in there?â
He swears that sharp flash of your eyes could cut glass. Â A lick of heat bursts behind his sternum. Hot and fierce.
âHe wasnât backing off,â Bradley grits out, trying to summon the patience he doesnât have. âWhat was I supposed to do? Give him a pat on the back and let him keep hitting on my girlfriend?â You scoff and he feels his pulse kick up in his throat. âI have always had your back, and I will always have your back.â
Bradley doesnât understand why you donât seem to understand that heâd do anything for you. Heâs been looking out for you since your bike handlebars had iridescent tassels streaming from them, and if he has his way heâll be looking out for you until his number is up.
âBut thatâs the thing, Rooster! You didnât have my back in there,â you argue, stepping forward so youâre toe to toe with him. Your use of his callsign again chafes against his ears like sandpaper. âAll you did was manhandle me out of the way to get at him and throw fists. I mean, Mav and Hondo would have let it slide if theyâd been there to see that. But what about Cyclone? Would he? Why would you put your career at risk like that? What were you even thinking?â
Youâre looking at him like you donât know him, and he hates it. Because youâre the person who knows him best.
He runs a hand through his hair in agitation. Heâs been trying to tame his temper, that caged animal that paced within the confines of the ribs in his chest. But his anger and frustration has been feeding off of yours, meeting it measure for measure.
âI wasnât. I wasnât thinking,â Bradley explodes, flinging his arms out to the side. âIâm not going to stop and make a damn pros and cons list while I watch some asshole being disrespectful and getting physical with you. Itâs not going to happen, kid.â
âAnd I told you that I had it handled!â you exclaim.
The sound of the waves gets lost in the way both of your voices are raising with each and every parry in the verbal fencing match youâve found yourselves in. This has escalated quicker than he ever could have expected, and all he wants is to find himself back on the same page with you.
âHow am I the bad guy in all of this right now?â
âDonât you get it? Iâm not mad about you wanting you to be there for me, Iâm mad about how you went about it. You literally pushed me out of the way and passed off to Jake, like my voice and feelings in that moment didnât matter to you. Like you didnât care about what I wanted. You have never treated me like that before.â
Guilt makes his stomach churn.
âYou and I both know thatâs not true,â he replies. Itâs an uncomfortable truth.
That dark period after his mom died and how heâd treated you still haunted him sometimes. When heâd try to set fire to all the bridges around him, including his friendship with you. He hadnât been worth knowing back then, but youâd never given up on him. He remembers it like it was yesterday, heâs never forgotten it. On the nights he couldnât sleep, it was one of the many things that played out behind his eyelids like a highlight reel of all his worst moments.
Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. He sees the moment it clicks for you because the fire that had been blazing behind those eyes he knows so well transforms into something softer. Something sadder.
âBradley, Iâm not going to hold onto something from when you were eighteen and hurting and heartbroken.â Your voice catches with emotion. âBut tonight? Tonight, you made me feel small. And youâre the very last person I thought whoâd ever make me feel that way.â
He canât even enjoy hearing you say his name again, because you look so disappointed in him. The two of you stand there staring at each other, searching each otherâs eyes as the waves rolling in along the shore fill the silence.
The way your lower lip wobbles steals the fight right out of him. All that righteous indignation that had been whirling in his chest is gone quicker than it came over him at the sight of the tears welling up along your lower lash line.
Heâd let you down back then. And heâd let you down tonight too. He feels like heâs broken a promise to you, one heâd made with himself a longtime ago. Bradley wants to be the man whose shoulders you could lean on, the one you trusted to bet there to support you. He never thought heâd be the guy who makes you cry.
Bradley says your name tenderly. Every single letter of it is precious to him because youâre the most important person in the world to him.
The single tear that escapes the corner of your eye and rolls down your face cracks his chest wide open.
He holds out his hand for you, but you half-heartedly bat it away.
âNo, Iâm still mad at you,â you say, feebly. Itâs unconvincing at best.
âYou can be mad at me, kid,â Bradley murmurs, âBut just let me hold you.â
He needs to know that youâll still let him. That you still want him.
Bradley reaches out for you again and this time you let him pull you into his chest. And when you thread your arms around his torso and hold him just as tight that knot in his stomach loosens. He rests his chin on your head and releases a sigh. With you in his arms, he feels like his feet are finally back on solid ground.
He knows he owes you an apology, a real one this time. He knows that heâs fucked up, he understands where he went wrong. But he canât shake the feeling that he feels like heâs missing something, that thereâs another reason playing into why youâre so upset.
Every one of your quiet sniffles twists the knife thatâs lodged itself between his ribs just a bit more each time.
He doesnât know how long the two of you stand there wrapped up in each other, as he runs his hand up and down your back. Thereâs more to discuss, but he doesnât rush you. Heâll hold you for as long as you need him to.
When you pull away, only far enough to look up at him, he takes the opportunity to gently cup your face in his hands. His thumb skims along the line of your jaw, your eyes are still watery.
âSweet girl, why are you crying? I know you. Why does it feel like thereâs more to this than just me being an idiot?â he asks, quietly. It still feels so fragile between the two of you.
âBecause I l-like you so much. And I know you meant well, but I hated what happened tonight.â You wipe angrily at the fresh tears that streak down your face, like youâre irritated at them for them falling without your permission. Â âMy ex used to pull that kind of bullshit all the time and I always hated the way it made me feel.â
His hands fall from your face.
Your confession surprises him. âJack?â Bradley asks, his eyebrows pulling together. You nod. âI thought you said he was fine? That the break up was mutual because things got stale between the two of you.â
Itâs times like this where heâs reminded of just how much distance there between the two of you over the last decade before you moved to San Diego. Of how much of you heâs missed out on. All the little moments that made up someoneâs life. There was only so much an email, or a text, or a call could do.
You sigh, heavily. âIâm realizing now that there were a lot of things I put up with Jack because I didnât want to rock the boat.â
Bradleyâs fingers flex involuntarily where his hands are resting your hips. He doesnât know what to make of that admission.
âYou got to give me more than that to work with, kid. Help me to understand.â
You run you hand along his forearm soothingly, like you can sense his unease. He slides his thumbs through the loops of your jeans, fixing himself to you.
âJack was really good about wanting to show everyone that he was a good boyfriend. And he was- for a while.â You pause, pressing your lips together. âBut there were a few times where weâd go out and heâd make a scene, like what happened tonight. Except instead of someone being an actual asshole, itâd be someone whoâd started up some polite small talk with me as we waited in line. And it always became a bigger thing than it needed to be. Then afterwards, heâd make it seem like he was defending my honor or something, even though he knew I didnât like the kind of attention and all the looks that came with it afterwards. But Jack was always about Jack, and he liked the hero edit his friends would give him.â
You look away from him towards the ocean, the sunset paints you golden. Bradley knows youâre collecting your thoughts, so he waits. When youâre ready, you turn back towards him. Thereâs a different kind of hurt reflected in your eyes, one that tells him tonight has opened up old wounds for you.
âHeâd say all the right things around other people, but when it was just the two of us alone, I never got that side of him. At the time I believed he was saying them because he meant them, but I can see now that he never really showed me that he meant them. I took his words at face value and settled for them.â
You give him a self-conscious shrug. Like youâre embarrassed. But your big heart was one of the things he loved most about you, and he hated the idea that someone had been careless with it before it made it into his safekeeping.
Bradley swallows hard. That tonight reminded you of the low points in your past relationship is hard for him to hear. And knowing why, makes it even worse.
âI think, more than anything,â you continue, your voice much quieter now, âIâm just mad that I let myself get lost in that for so long. Like I knew I needed more and that I wanted more, but I kept putting him ahead of myself when he wasnât doing that for me.â
You thread your fingers between his and squeeze them lightly. He squeezes yours back.
âBut you, Bradley, say the right things and mean them. You show me how important I am to you, with or without an audience. No one has ever made me feel as special as you do. Like, you donât buy me red roses because you think you should-â
âWait,â he doesnât mean to cut you off, but his mind has snagged on a critical detail, âI thought your favorite flowers were tulips?â
A soft smile coasts over your pretty face. âThey are.â He loves the warm way youâre looking at him right now, tender and fond. âAnd thatâs what Iâm talking about. You show me all the ways you know me because you care about me and want to make me happy. You donât treat me like Iâm an accessory in your life. I mean, I didnât feel like I could even hang art on the walls of the apartment I paid half the rent for without Jack having an opinion on it. And here you are letting me bring over kitchen towels and plants for you, and we donât even live together yet.â
Yet. Such a small word, but it means so much to know that youâre envisioning the same future with him that he sees with you.
âI like that you do that. I want you to do that. I appreciate the way you show me youâre thinking about me too.â Bradley runs his thumbs over the back of your hands. âAlthough, Iâd rather be the one buying them,â he says, only partly teasing.
You made his house feel like a home. He hadnât had that in so long. He wanted you to have things there in his condo that you also liked and made you happy because he wanted you to stay. He couldnât wait for the day the two of you shared one address instead of two.
âDoes that mean I should return the throw pillows I found for you?â He spots a wink of your dimples. âTheyâre soft, but firm enough that you wonât hurt your neck when you inevitably fall asleep on the couch even though you claim youâre just âresting your eyesâ.â He never wants you to stop teasing him.
âNo,â Bradley chuckles. âThey sound perfect, but youâre going to let me Venmo you for them.â
âOk, fine,â you agree. Almost reluctantly.
God, he loves you.
He leans in to kiss you. Once. Twice. Soft, sweet.
Bradley lets go of one of your hands to settle on your lower back and press you closer to him, until thereâs no space between your two bodies. And brings the other one, with your fingers still tangled with his up against his chest. Before resting his forehead against yours.
âIâm so sorry I made you feel like that tonight.â
âThank you, I forgive you.â You set the hand not entwined with his on the side of his face, your thumb sweeps across his cheek. âBut I need you to hear me when I say that I can hold my own just fine, Bradley. I know you want to have my back and look out for me, but please, just not like that. Even if your heart is in the right place, ok?â
He nods. âI hear you, sweet girl. Itâs not going to happen again. I promise.â He turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm. And then lifts the one still in his up to his lips, and drops a kiss to the back it.
âPlus, you taught me how to throw a punch, remember? Iâm pretty sure I broke a guyâs nose one time,â you grin.
âAtta girl,â he says with pride. Itâs so much lighter between the two of you now. He takes a couple step back, letting go of you and giving you a not-so-subtle onceover. âOk, hot shot, show me what you got.â Beckoning you over with both hands.
âIâm not going to punch you, Bradley.â
âCâmon, kid, show me how itâs done.â
You shake your head at him in amused disbelief. âYouâre not going to let this go, are you?â
âNo maâam.â He taps his finger on his abs. âLetâs see it.â
You roll your eyes at him fondly. Then you hook your thumb over the top of your fist, just like he showed you all those years ago. And you ever so slowly, ever so gently press your perfectly aligned fist into his stomach. It could hardly even be considered a graze.
He doubles over with an overexaggerated oof and then tilts his head up at you and winks with a smile.
âYouâre ridiculous.â The sound of your laugh fills his lungs.
Itâs the same sound when heâd toss you into the pool when you were twelve. Itâs the same sound when heâd spin you on the big tire swing when you were fourteen. Itâs the same sound when he twirled you around the dance floor when you were nineteen at your momâs second wedding.
Thereâs not just a glimmer of your dimples anymore, the full force of them hits him right in the chest.
âSpeaking of punching,â Bradley says, straightening back up. âHangman thinks Iâm punching up.â
âOh, does he? Interesting,â you hum. Your eyes shine in amusement.
He grins. âHeâs not wrong. Youâre way out of my league.â
You softly shake your head at him. âIâm just right for you. And youâre just right for me.â
He couldnât agree more, but you donât give him the chance too because youâre threading your arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours. With you in his arms and his lips on yours, he feels whole. You werenât just right for him, you were perfect for him. And heâd never stop trying to be the perfectly right man for you.
No oneâs ever had him, not like the way you do.
Youâd always had a special place in his heart, but now the whole thing belonged to you. It was yours for the taking. He knew it would be in good hands with you, and he wasnât going to stop proving to you that he was the one to be trusted with yours.
âDo you want me to take you home or do you want to go back inside?â He asks against your lips.
You kiss him again. âLetâs go back,â you say, wrapping your arm around his waist. âYou owe me a dance, you know.â
He drops an arm over your shoulder. âI do?â
âYou do.â
âWell then, lead the way, sweet girl.â
After he twirls you around on the crowded makeshift dancefloor of the Hard Deck, you let him take you home. Where he apologizes to you again, but this time on his knees with your thigh thrown over his shoulder. And twice more in your bed for good measure.
But not before he got his teeth on that little bow of yours.
He never stood a chance against it.
đ đđđ° đ°đđđ€đŹ đ„đđđđ«
Bradley is about to line up his next shot at the pool table when Jake saddles up and nudges his shoulder.
âLooks like your girl has an admirer.â Hangman points with his beer bottle, directing Bradleyâs gaze to the bar where someone is chatting you up.
He recognizes him from the most recent batch of Top Gun students. To call him overconfident would be an understatement. The guy is clearly as full of himself on the ground as he is in the sky, based on his body language as he monologues to you, all puffed up chest and cocky smiles.
If the guy had any common sense, heâd see that you look like youâd rather be anywhere else. Itâs written all over your face.
âSo it seems,â Bradley agrees, rests a hip against the table.
Heâd noticed the guy checking you out. But it was pretty ballsy of the aviator to be leaning into you the way that he is, considering the two of you had arrived together and that Bradley had been the one tasked with doing some demonstration trainings with them earlier in the week.
The man makes some big gestures with his hands, heâs clearly reached the part of his story thatâs meant to impress you. Bradley chuckles to himself when he sees the less than subtle roll of your eyes.
âAre you going to go all Rocky Balboa on his ass?â Jake asks with a knowing smirk.
You must feel their eyes on you, because you glance over in their direction.
He knows you can handle yourself, but heâll be there if you want him to be.
Bradley lifts his eyebrow in a silent question. You give him a slight shake of your head and he nods.
âNah, sheâs got it.â
He sees the moment the guy fucks up and oversteps, because your eyebrows shoot up. Youâre his sweet girl, but he knows the other guy is in for it when look that promises the best kind of trouble settles over your face.
His favorite menace.
Bradley watches on as you lean over the counter and ring the bell with enthusiasm.
A cheer goes up throughout the bar. He brings his fingers up to his lips and lets out a loud whistle.
You look rightfully smug as Penny points out the wooden sigh strung up between the beer taps to the confused Top Gun student whose bank account will be hurting in the morning.
âDamn. I forgot the kid is a straight hustler,â Jake says, clearly impressed.
âShe sure is,â Bradley grins, still looking at you, âItâs a good thing she likes you or youâd be screwed.â He pats Jakeâs shoulder reassuringly, before pressing the cue into his hands.
You return a few minutes later, with a tray of frothy, freshly poured beers for everyone wearing an all-to-pleased grin that lights up the whole bar.
He waits until the beers are safely on the table before threading a finger through your beltloop and tugging him to you.
âThatâs my girl.â
Bradley tilts your face up for a kiss. Itâs not his best work, youâre making it difficult for him since youâre too busy smiling.
He wouldnât have it any other way.
Disclaimer: my writing playlist included Cassandra, The Prophecy, and Castles Crumbling. So legally I cannot be held accountable for any angst hangovers.
Thank you for reading!
If you want to see what happens next for these two, click here!
You can read more of my stories here!
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Someone Like You - J.Seresin
Summary: Being best friends with a naval aviator was hard, being best friends and in love with the Jake "Hangman" Seresin was even harder.
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Medic!Reader
Warnings: 18+, fluff, there is a small bit of angst, jake kind of bein douche, best friends to lovers troupe because top tier, oblivous by both parties.(if i missed any lemme know)
The request: If you're open to requests, I have one for you! It could be about Tyler, Jake, or Glenâwhichever you prefer. The story would revolve around them being very close friends, but heâs always surrounded by girls. The reader begins to pull away, feeling inadequate or thinking she's not pretty enough, believing he could never see her as more than just a friend. Iâd love for it to have a sweet, fluffy ending!
authors note: to the anon who requested this, thank you! I hope i have done justice to what you envisioned! - I really love getting requests because ya'll got some great ideas! If you have requested something, I promise i will get to it!! love, em. <333
The sun was sat snugly high in the blue sky. Sitting under the rays, you watched the group of aviators run through the sand covered in sweat. Sitting perched on the towel and sunglasses on your nose.
You never expected this to be your life after moving from your hometown to be a field medic with a group of aviators.
âYou done sunbathing?â you look up behind the aviators to the man above you, blocking the sun from your eyes.
Jake Seresin in all his glory, hands on his hips.
âCan I help you?â pulling the sunglasses down your nose, you look at him over the rims with a raised brow. He chuckles, pushing the hair that was sticking to his forehead back.
He has been on leave for the last two weeks, letting his hair grow out of regs. "Are you done crisping like a chicken and gonna come play a game?â He holds his hand to you, which you take happily and he pulls you from the sand with a grunt.
âI donât know if I shouldâ you push the bridge of the sunglasses back up your nose. âWhat?! You are playing câmonâ he encourages you over, jogging ahead of you in the sand.
You watch as the rest of the the dagger squad who has been nothing but kind to you, encourage you. Then there's the group of aviators who were glued to the squad, more so Jake than others.
They giggle between themselves. You never knew joining the Navy was gonna have the same effects of highschool.
â(y/n)!â Jakeâs voice pulls you from your thoughts, a grin on his face. âCâmon! One game!?â he pouts, hands on his hips. You sigh and make your way down the sand, pulling the shorts on your body to cover your bikini bottoms.
The dagger squad was your adopted family. You met them all in your time on the ships as a field medic but as well as at base when Jake made his way into your office quite often to get âlooked atâ.
âDude! I had no idea you were this good at thisâ Phoenix wraps her arm around your shoulders as you walk back to your things with a giggle. âI blame Hangman for hiding you from usâ you smile, grabbing your towel and bag of items and standing back to your full height.
Turning to say something, your thoughts run short as the girls again circle around Jake, hands on his arms as they all giggle.
He did have the million dollar smile.
âYou coming to the hard deck with us?â Bradley asks, standing beside phoenix. You turn to the taller man, smiling up at him as you shake your head. âI return back to work tomorrow unlike some peopleâ you chuckle, nudging him gently.
He nods, hands held up in defense as you smile. âSee you soon though?â he asks as you are walking up the sand, you grin. âOf course! Someones bound to get hurtâ you wink, making your way back to your own vehicle.
âSweetheart!â you sigh, the southern drawl was almost like a vice around your brain. Setting your items in the back of your Jeep, you turn to face him. âYou arenât coming?â he asks, stopping in front of you,panting to catch his breath. You shake your head, âI have to work tomorrow captainâ. He smirks, pushing a hair out of your face gently.
âNot even for one drink?â he asks as you shake your head. âNo but I will be up to pick you up if you need meâ he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your cheek as he jogs over to his truck.
Ally, another pilot in Top gun standing at the passenger side was waiting for him. âSee you later sweetheart!â he waves.
Sighing heavily you climb into your jeep, immediately turning the radio up loudly and driving away.
You knew you were not the only woman in Jakeâs life. He was charming with his green eyes and winning smile but everytime you would do anything with him, the woman gravitated to him like he was the opposite end of their magnets.
Driving through the city, your heart hurt a bit. You knew how childish it seemed.
How childish it was to be upset that he had the female gaze, he was tall, tan and kind under his hundred layers of ego. As you made your way into your home, the phone in your hand vibrated.
Jake: Letâs get together this week for dinner? Drinks?
you smile sadly at the text. You knew he enjoyed your company. You replied.
you: Sure Jake, sounds good
The text bubble appeared but you chose for your own mental state it was best to mute the conversation for the time being.
3am on the dot your phone rang.
You knew who was on the other line. Reaching over, you grab the phone off the nightstand. âHello?â you mumble, rubbing your eyes. â(y/n)â you sigh at the sound of Bradleys voice.
âHey rooâ you mumble, eyes closed as you pinch the bridge of your nose. âI think you should come get Jake⊠maybe me too?â he questions as you chuckle softly. âBe there shortlyâ you hang up and climb out of bed.
Grabbing the closest sweatshirt to you and make your way outside and down to the hard deck. Dressed in your pajamas, you make your way inside the bar, still roaring with life even on a Sunday night.
Jake and Bradley sat at the bar with Penny who grins at your arrival. âCuteâ she mumbles as you shake your head, making your way to them.
âLetâs go boysâ you pat both of their shoulders, encouraging them out the door. âIs that my sweatshirt?â Jake questions as you look down at the hoodie on your body.
âYes it is, let's goâ you motion to the door. âJakey!â Ally gasps, running to Jake at the door. You canât help the way you cringe, pulling some cash out of your pocket. âHow much do the two of them owe?â you ask Penny who shakes her head.
âTheyâll both come and pay tomorrow, I trust itâ you sigh, smiling at her. âI gotta goâ you can hear the faint slur in Jakeâs voice. âBut i thought we were gonna have some funâ she bites her lip, looking up at him through her lashes, in her drunken state attempting to look as sexy and sultry as possible.
Jake shakes his head and makes his way out the door. You follow both men out to your parked Jeep as Lindsey stares daggers into your back.
The car ride is silent except for the wind. You pulled into Bradleys apartment first, parking right by the steps, he climbs out.
âThanks love, youâre the bestâ he reaches in to kiss your cheek as he makes his way up the steps. âHey!â Jake scolds him as Bradley smirks and makes his way to his apartment. âCan I move to the front now?â Jake asks childishly. âYes Jakobâ you sigh with a smile.
He climbs out and makes his way into the front seat beside you as you pull out of the parking lot and make your way down the road to Jakeâs apartment. âThanks for coming to get me honeyâ he whispers, his slur is almost gone at this point. âYouâre welcomeâ you mumble, rubbing your eyes with a yawn.
âIâm sorry I did this to youâ he mumbles as you shake your head. âIâd rather you be safeâ you mumble.
âWhy donât you like to come get drinks with me anymore?â his drunk words flow out of him like vomit.
âI just donât enjoy it much anymore, Jâ he nods slowly.
He knew you were lying but chose not to pry anymore while you were tired. âCan I come home with you?â he asks. Jake was quite needy in his semi-drunken state.
He did live down the road from you and did frequent your guest room often, hence his hoodie laying around your home. âI guessâ you smirk, making the turn to your own home over Jakes.
He stumbles inside once the vehicle is parked. He was mostly sobered up as he made his way to the guest room. âSee you in a few hoursâ he mumbles as you shake your head and make your way to your own bedroom.
The guest bedroom door opens, Jake makes his way out in a pair of black sweatpants he had left in the dresser drawer. "Sweetheart?" he questions as he yawns, making his way down the steps. He stops at the end of the stairs, looking around.
He notices the fresh smell of coffee and the few dishes in the sink. He jogs back up the stairs to see your bedroom door open, looking around its then he notices the pink note stuck to his door. Pulling it off the door, he sighs.
off to work, lock up on your way out.
+
The hard deck jukebox could be heard from streets away, it left you grinning. You pull into the parking lot, The Eagles âLife in the fastlaneâ playing through the speakers.
You donât know how Rooster and Phoenix talked you into this but you climbed out and made your way inside. Dressed in a tank top and pair of denim shorts you look through the crowd for your favorite aviators.
âSweetheart!â Jakeâs voice yells for you, you look up at the sound of his voice. He pushes through the crowd of people to get to you.
He's singing to you as he approaches, "and she was terminally pretty" he grins, looking you up and down, âI didnât know you were coming,â he smiles.
You looked so beautiful.
âUh-yeah rooster and nat invited meâ you smile up at him and move past him to your friends. Phoenix was aware of your feelings for Jake.
How hard it was to be out with him as he was always surround by woman, not once looking your way with them around. âRooâ you smile, patting his shoulder as he pulls you into his side for a hug.
âThere's my favorite medic!â he grins as you chuckle. Jake makes his way back over to the group, sitting down as Ally makes her way to him, climbing in his lap.
He doesnât hesitate to let her, adjusting in the seat to accommodate her. You sigh, turning to face Phoenix and Rooster.
âI donât get itâ you raise a brow, looking up from the table at the sound of Phoenix's voice. âWhatâs that?â you ask, crossing your leg over the other and arms over your chest.
âHe acts like he wants to be around you so badly and then acts like thatâ she motions over to Jake, sitting back in his chair arm around Ally's waist, her group of friends around the two of them. You shrug, ânot my problem anymoreâ you mumble, fishing out a few bills from your back pocket.
âI'm sorry to be a buzzkill but, thanks for inviting me guys but I think Iâm gonna head homeâ you hand them the money to cover your drink and stand from the booth. Rooster stands, hands on your shoulders. âYou donât deserve himâ he mumbles, giving your shoulder a squeeze and pulling you into a hug.
You hug him back and sigh heavily. âI guess I just have to get under a guy, they say that's the best way to get over oneâ you mumble against his chest as he laughs.
âSee, that's the spiritâ he grins, smiling at you. âLet us know if you need anythingâ he encourages as you smile.
It had been a week since your night at the hard deck with rooster and phoenix
a week before you decided it was best to put your distance between you and Jake.
The phone beside you began ringing. You knew exactly who it was. Reaching over you ignore the call for the second time and
Within seconds the phone rings again. You reach over and turn the phone off completely.
You did not have the energy to go and pick him up once again.
Maybe you would get over the man that is Jake Seresin.
rolling over and burying yourself deeper in the sheets of your bed, tears in your lash line as you sniffle to avoid them from falling.
You felt silly being this upset about a man who was not yours to be upset about.
You knew that he was a charming man when the two of you became friends, you also knew he looked at you as just that, a friend.
You shake your head and close your eyes.
The next morning as you turned your phone back on, the text messages piled in.
24 missed calls and 45 text messages.
You sigh and choose to delete the text messages and mute the conversation you have with him once again.
The drive to base was peaceful as you pulled into your designated parking lot. You were not gonna let this affect your work. â(y/n)!â you look over at Coyote waving to you,smiling, you wave back and mock salute to him.
He smiles, saluting back to you as he makes his way inside. Making your way to your office, you ignore the urge to turn and go down the hall to where you knew the dagger squad was meeting.
Jake sits down beside Rooster and Phoenix.
If looks could kill the two of them would be long gone.
âCan I help you?â Phoenix speaks first, arms crossed. âSpillâ he adjusts in the seat, elbows resting on his knees as he looks between the two of them. âSpill what Hangman?â Rooster asks,looking over at him from his phone.
âWhy wonât (y/n) talk to meâ he mumbles, looking between them again. âIsnât that a question for her?â Phoenix asks with a raised brow.
âI tried, I called her over a hundred times last night with no responseâ he defends as Phoenix shrugs. âI donât know what to tell you Hangmanâ Rooster nods in agreement with his girlfriend and Jake sighs heavily and stands from the chair.Â
â(y/l/n)â turning at the sound of your name,clipboard in hand you raise your brow. âYes maâamâ you set the clipboard down and approach your commanding officer. âWe are going to need you to go out and assist in the atlanticâ you nod quickly, âof course maâamâ she grins, reaching out to give your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
âI know you donât love being tied down to one place too longâ she smirks, heading to the door, âyou will be heading out in the morningâ you nod eagerly, âand a car will be picking you upâ she smiles with a nod and walks out the door.
You take a deep breath and wipe your once sweaty palms on your pants. You knew you needed to tell the dagger squad.
With a deep breath you head down the hall to the common room.
âHangman, where are you?!â you can hear Fanboys voice over the comms. You knock gently on the door, Coyote,Phoenix,Rooster and Bob all turn to you.
âHiâ you wave as you make your way into them, sitting down beside Phoenix. Her face is full of concern, âwhat is it?â she asks as you turn to your closest friends.
âIâm being sent out tomorrow morning, they need additional medics out in the atlantic, of course I donât know the full extentâ you look at them, not seeing Jake standing in the doorway, panting.
âYouâre leaving?â your eyes snap to Jake.
Heâs still in his flight suit, the top half around his waist with his black tank top sticking to his skin. You turn from his eye back to Phoenix and Bob.
The two of them smile, nodding slowly. âWe should go to the hard deck and have a send off party!â Coyote tries to lighten the mood, immediately noticing the tension in the room.
âI agreeâ Rooster chimes in, looking over at you. You smile sadly, âif you guys want I supposeâ they cheer as you stand.
Jake hasnât moved from the doorway, watching you. He watched the way you avoided his eye.
Walking out of the room, you brush Jakeâs shoulder as you begin to walk down the hall to your office. You bit your lip as you heard his boots follow, you knew you couldnât escape him anymore.
â(y/n)!â he reaches out, grabbing your shoulder to stop your movements. âWhat Jake?â you ask, turning to face him tilting your head. âWhat do you mean what?!â he defends, looking at you.
âYou havenât talked to me in days!â He throws his hands up, ânot even days, weeks! You wonât answer my calls, you won't answer my text messages, you ignore me when you see me at work or even out in public!â he defends as his hands fall at his sides.
âExplain it to me!â he adds, hands on his hips as he looks over your face. âIâve not been ignoring youâ you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes, âbullshitâ he sits.
You sigh, hands on your own hips as you see conference room doors open and close. You knew his voice was traveling through the base.
âNot here Jakeâ you sigh softly, walking down the hall towards your office. âExplain it to me here (y/n)!â he yells.
You close your eyes, feeling the tears begin to fall down your cheeks.Â
You knew you shouldnât have this conversation in the hallway of your place of employment. You can hear his boots approaching, you snap.
âBecause I love you!â you yell back to face him, face red with tears. âI love you and I know you wouldnât love someone like me!â you point to your chest looking at him as the tears begin to roll down your cheeks.
âI am not them!â you point out the window to Ally and the rest of the new top gun recruits on the tarmac. âI am not tall and sexy and-â Jake stands there, shocked at your reaction.
âYou wouldnât love someone like me! You-You- I am not Jake Seresin material and I canât take you staying in my house anymore and I canât take you being around me anymore because I knewâ you sob, looking away from him.
âDistancing myself was going to help my heart get over youâ you whisper turning around from him.
âThis time away may be best for meâ Jake's boots squeak along the concrete floors. â(y/n)â he whispers, heâs directly behind you now. Your shoulders shake, months of tension falling off your shoulders.
He reaches out, grabbing your shoulder to gently turn you back to face him, cupping your cheek to gently bring your eyes back to him. Heâs also got tears rolling down his cheeks.
âSomeone like you?â he whispers, looking over your face. âSomeone who I have seen devote her life to others? Someone who I absolutely adore, who would spring to help anyone even at 3am after a drunk night at the bar. Someone like youâ he chuckles, shaking his head. âIâm not them Jakeâ you whisper as he shakes head, âand thatâs what makes you so specialâ he reaches over and wipes your cheeks with his thumb.
âI love you (y/n)â he chuckles, shaking his head. âI canât believe you couldnât see itâ he chuckles as you look at him.
âMe!?â you defend as he grins. âI adore you, I fell in love with you years ago sweetheartâ he watches the look in your eye, watching as you look at him, looking into the green eyes that brought you so much comfort.
âY-You love me?â you look over his face for any signs of a joke, he chuckles. âI love you, not them other girls, not anyone but youâ he smiles, leaning down to connect your lips.Â
It takes you a moment to register what is happening by the time you are reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer to you.
He pulls away slowly after a few minutes, nose nudging yours as his eyes close. âI canât believe youâ he whispers, âthinking I couldnât love someone like youâ your eyes close, a small smile on your lips.
âI am not someone youâd go for Jâ you whisper with a smile as he shakes his head, pulling you into his chest. Wrapping your arms around his waist you sniffle against his black tank top.
âThis is horrible timingâ you mumble.
âIâll be here when you get back sweetheartâ he whispers against your hairline.Â
+
The helicopter ride was quiet. The voices in your mind were louder.
You smile as the base comes into view, âweâre almost homeâ the pilot, Maria grins at you through her aviators.
You were off base for three months, sharing letters and as many zoom phone calls as possible with Jake and the rest of the dagger squad.
The tarmac is laid out as the helicopter begins its descent. You pull the headset off and stand, leaning out the side of the helicopter, hands holding the handles. The smell of the ocean brought you a sense of comfort.
You knew the minute you laid eyes on Jake and your family, you would be home. You can hear cheering from the ground as the chopper finally lands. Climbing down, you stand on the pavement and take a deep breath.
You were home.
The doors opened and the dagger squad all rushed out. âSheâs home!â Rooster yells with a smile on his face. You grin, standing on the big x. This was your family.
Ally and her group of friends follow Jake out of the doors.
Your eyes fall to each other as she continues to attempt to grab onto his arm. âScuse meâ he moves from her and begins his jog to you.
You meet him halfway and he grabs you by the waist and spins your around, holding you close to his body. You laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, hiding your face in his shoulder. âMy girl is home!â he grins, setting you to your feet.
âWelcome home sweet girl he grins, leaning down to connect your lips.
Maybe someone like you deserves someone like him.
--
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as always, if you enjoyed this fic, likes reblogs & comments are always welcomed! - remember, please do not repost any of my work on other media platforms!!!
ps. i knew I would get something out! thanks for always being patient with me I swear theres alot going on in this brain of mine!!
#glen powell#jake seresin#top gun maverick#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#hangman fluff#hangman angst#hangman x reader#jake seresin fic#jake seresin request#fic request#top gun hangman#top gun fanfiction
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something soft based on this fic by @hero-in-waiting because I spent like a week reading it, saw a good pose reference on Pinterest, and promptly blacked out
#tgm#hangster#top gun maverick#top gun rooster#top gun hangman#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#it was crazy the ref came across my pinterest home page and it was just like okay gonna draw now i guess lmao#art#digital art#illustration#fanart#artists on tumblr#clip studio paint#csp#top gun fanfiction#i need to stop reading really good fics because then i want to DRAW FOR THEM
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